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legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

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Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain.

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be.

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said.

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that.

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him.

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone.

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top.

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.”

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious.

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?”

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality.

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office.

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document.

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that.

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.”

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?”

He sends you a pointed look.

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home.

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back.

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down.

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to.

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately.

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute.

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna.

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both.

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment.

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with.

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else.

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call.

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes.

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers.

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.”

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back.

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face.

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand.

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up.

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.”

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.”

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily.

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible.

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts.

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking.

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you.

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad.

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter.

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.”

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her.

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding.

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple.

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands.

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you.

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers.

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning.

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!”

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air.

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd.

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better.

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her.

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.”

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.”

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment.

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone.

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack.

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America.

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?”

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

“There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest.

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!”

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase.

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning.

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you.

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling.

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground.

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs.

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never.

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today.

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side.

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe.

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need.

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away.

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about.

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now.

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face.

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment.

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you.

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile.

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…”

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it.

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door.

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her.

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut.

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix #legally binded

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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

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where have all the good men gone? | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Three

Chapter Summary | A date, supposed to get your mind of Javier, goes terribly, and he's the only person you can think to call that will make anything better.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, alcohol consumption, protective!Javi, misogynistic comments (not from Javi), (1) man being a pushy douchebag (also not Javi), swearing, mentions of the drug trade - nothing else I can think of.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Authors Note | I am truly having the most fun with these two and I hope you're enjoying their story so far! Things are definitely going to be heating up soon, so please hang in there, it'll be spectacular when they finally do get spicy with each other! If you're enjoying this then comments, asks and reblogs are my lifeblood and if you'd like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

“I promise he’s good fun,” Liv’s voice speaks through the phone, cradled to your ear by your shoulder as you skim through your wardrobe, “Nice, and age appropriate.” She teases.

“Shut up,” You grumble, still annoyed that you’ve allowed her to talk you into this at all, “This is still a terrible idea.”

“You were the one complaining about Javier Peña being a bad idea,” She defends herself, “And you also could have said no, too late now.”

You sigh because she’s right. You’ve been trying for the past week to convince yourself that finding someone else might make wanting Javier go away, even just a little bit. Someone your age, not entangled in your family dynamics, or at least you’re hoping anyway. Liv had suggested someone she knew from work, a nice boy, two years older than you, his head screwed on, a managerial position at work. Sensible.

“I have no idea what to wear.” You groan down the phone, there are plenty of dresses you could choose, but somehow, it feels like this person you don’t know doesn’t deserve that of you.

“Put those jeans on,” Liv speaks, crunching coming down the phone line, clearly she’s snacking like she always does, “The tight ones, makes your ass look phenomenal, and the lowest cut top you own.”

“Liv,” You chastise, “I’ve never met him before, I’m not fucking him tonight.”

“I didn’t suggest you did,” She chuckles, “Just give him a taste of what’s to come.”

“Unbelievable,” You mutter, but follow her advice anyway, pulling out a shirt that cuts low, scooping out your jeans from the drawer, “Right, I gotta go and get ready, but if this is awful, you’re entirely to blame, okay?”

“Hearing you loud and clear girl,” She chuckles, “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Goodbye!” You chuckle, hanging up.

It’s still light out, so you opt to walk to the bar in town. It’s not all that far, and the air has cooled enough by the time you leave that it doesn’t feel too stiflingly hot. The bar is not one you would have chosen, one of the more upmarket establishments in town. You wish you could go back to your normal dive bar, with its slightly sticky floor and the smell of fried food. You give him the benefit of the doubt though, maybe he’s just trying to impress you and you can’t fault him for that, can you?

Liv told you he’d be sat at the bar in a blue shirt, and there’s only one person it can be when you get close enough, “Victor?” You ask, stood next to him.

“The one and only,” He smiles at you, standing from the barstool to give you a hug, which you allow, “You look hot.”

“Thanks,” You chuckle, sitting down on the stool next him, noticing a drink already there for you, it’s a cocktail, bright pink, and you know you’ll already hate it, and you do when you take a sip, wincing as the fruity blend moves down your throat, “Oh, it’s very sweet.”

“I thought it was a safe option, most girls love this drink.”

You’re tempted to make a comment about this clearly being his favourite place to bring his dates but you bite your tongue, working through the necessary small talk as you try and drink it as fast as you can so you can choose something you might actually enjoy.

“So, Liv told me you’re a journalist,” He comments, sipping his glass of whiskey, “What kind of things do you write?”

“I mainly cover news about the drug trade and how that affects the town.” You explain, taking the last sip of your drink, flagging the bartender down.

“Pretty morbid,” He shrugs, ordering himself another whiskey as you opt for a margarita, “Surely a girl like you should be writing about fashion or something.”

You scoff, “So I can’t write about things that are important to our town because I’m a woman?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” He tries to backtrack, “Just that it’s intimidating, is all, might put people off,” He chuckles then, “Although not me, like my girls with a bit of personality.”

You roll your eyes and don’t even try and hide it as you sip at your margarita, much better, you think. It carries on like that for another hour, Victor and his thinly veiled misogyny and his boring, surface level conversation. He tries at some point to put his hand on your knee, but you jerk away, moving so he can’t touch you.

“You want another?” He asks when you finish your third drink, “The night is still young.”

“No thank you,” You say, trying to be as polite as possible, “I have work tomorrow so probably best to head home.”

You try and insist that you pay for your part of the bill, but to his only credit, he insists on covering the tab but does then try and wrap his arm around your waist to walk you outside, which makes you want to hit him more than anything.

You stand next to him on the pavement outside the bar as the doors close behind you. You can still hear everyone else talking inside, but you have no idea what to do. You want to go home, but it’s dark, and you know you’d told your dad that Victor would walk you home, but you don’t want to spend another minute in his company.

“So, am I gonna get my goodnight kiss?” He asks, trying to take hold of your wrist to pull you into him.

He’s stronger than you, so he does sort of succeed in pulling you into his body, but you manage to put your palm against his chest to push him back.

“I don’t think so.” You cringe a little, trying to lean back as far as you can with his hand pulling your wrist.

“You’re joking right?” He scoffs, “I paid for your drinks, try and be interested in what you said and you’re going to refuse me?”

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” You speak, trying to talk the situation down, “I just don’t think this is gonna work.”

“Don’t need to tell me,” He snaps, “Such a fucking tease turning up dressed like this, but you’re really just a prude.”

“Oh fuck off man!” You try and push him again, succeeding in doing it enough for him to let go of your wrist so you can put some distance between you, “I don’t owe you shit.”

“Forget it,” He turns around and walks away, leaving you on your own, “Probably would have been a shit lay anyway.”

You’re tempted to call back but realise it’s not worth it, so you let him wander off, leaving you on the sidewalk on your own with no idea what to do now. You would walk home, but if your dad see’s you on your own, he’s going to kill you for being silly enough to walk home alone after dark, and then find Victor and kill him too for being a jerk.

You slump against the brick wall of the bar, rooting through your bag, there’s enough cash to go back in and get a drink and try and calm down a little, then, your fingers brush against the card you’d slipped in there a few days ago. The name and the number, and the few coins in the bottom of your bag, draw you to the phone box at the end of the street. You’re putting the money in and dialing before you can convince yourself it’s a silly idea.

He picks up on the third ring.

“Peña.” It’s so formal.

“Javi?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level, but ultimately failing.

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he asks, and he sounds frantic.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I just-” God this seems so stupid now, mainly because you don’t want to admit you were on a date, you don’t want to make yourself seem unavailable to him, “I was on a date and it didn’t go well, he was meant to walk me home and well, I don’t want him to, but I don’t wanna call my dad.”

“He hurt you?” He seems cross, protective even, which makes your tummy flutter.

“N-no,” You sigh, “He got pushy when I wouldn’t kiss him but I’m fine.”

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the phone, can hear the jangle of keys, “Where are you?”

“I’m at the phone box at the end of Grant Street.” You say, you’re about to speak again when Javi beats you to it.

“Stay there, go inside a store or something and wait for me, I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” You nod, like he can see you, “Javi?”

“Yeah, querida?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare,” He scoffs, “Never apologise for needing my help, okay?” You can hear the sound of his truck engine in the background, “I gotta hang up to drive, but I’ll be there soon, promise.”

“Okay,” You sniff, “Thank you.”

You can hear the dial tone before he can reply, so you hang the receiver back up and head into the liquor store on the other side of the road. You smile at the clerk, who asks if you need anything, you shake your head, tell him you’re just waiting for someone and then spend the rest of the time looking out of the window.

He’s parking up in a worryingly short amount of time, and as you walk from the store you worry that he put himself in danger driving so fast to get you. He’s opening his door and climbing down from the truck. As soon as you’re close enough, he’s got his hands on your shoulders, searching your face to make sure you’re alright.

“I’m fine Javi, I promise,” You insist, holding gently to his arms, giving him a smile, “I’ve probably overreacted.”

He lets his arm drops and signals for you to get into the truck, following swiftly, “If he made you uncomfortable it’s not an overreaction,” He speaks, turning the truck back on and pulling away, “He still around?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

It makes you wonder if he means good because he won’t bother you anymore, or good because it means he won’t be tempted to do something about his blatant disrespect. You decide not to probe that one, but file it away for later. You’re driving down the street when your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you’ve not eaten since lunch.

“You hungry?”

“I could eat,” You mumble sheepishly, “I’m sure there’s something at home.”

Javi nods, but drives straight past the turning he would need to take you home, driving straight on instead and turning off a little later. You’re about to ask where he’s taking you when he pulls into the parking lot at McDonalds. He parks up and tells you to stay where you are.

You watch him as he walks away, perfectly broad back, shirt tucked into his jeans. He really is a vision in every way when you look at him. He’s striding back out a little while later, brown paper bag in one hand and a soda cup in the other. He passes them both to you as he climbs back into his seat.

“What’s this?” You ask, taking a sip of the cold soda.

“Cheeseburger, extra pickles and a Sprite with extra ice.”

Yet again, he’s managed to amaze you with his observation skills. There was a time where he’d taken a trip with you and your parents, just a day out of town somewhere, and you’d stopped to get food on the way home, you’d made this exact order, turned to him and told him it was your favourite, and somehow he’d filed that away for right now, when you needed it the most.

“Thank you.” You speak simply, reaching in for the burger, unwrapping it carefully before taking a bite.

Javi can’t help but watch out of the side of his eye as you eat. God, you looked beautiful. Jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto your skin, showing off all those perfect parts of you. A shirt that was enticing without being too much. Fuck, he wanted to reach over, use his thumb to wipe away the tiny bit of sauce that had gathered in the corner of your mouth, push it into your mouth and let you lick it off his thumb.

You ball up the wrapper your burger had come in once you’ve finished, dropping it into the paper bag, picking up the cup of soda to suck the Sprite through the straw, “You alright now?” He asks.

You look at him, small, sad smile on your lips, “Just can’t help feeling there’s something wrong with me.” You shrug, offering him a sip of your drink which he declines.

“What do you mean?” He asks, wanting to reach over to you, put a comforting hand on you, but deciding against it for now.

You shrug a little, leaning your head back against the seat, “No-one ever looks at me in that way, I suppose,” You answer honestly, and he wants to tell you it isn’t true, that he thinks of you exactly like that, no matter how much he shouldn’t, “I’ve been with one guy in my whole life and I don’t think he ever really liked me, was only with me because I was the only one left out of my friends.”

“Did he say that?”

“He didn’t have to,” You shrug again, “He never really made an effort, never took me out, never really wanted to sleep with me much either, I guess I was just easy for him,” You say, “Convenient.” Is what you finish on.

“It isn’t you,” Javi speaks, turning his head to look at you, resting it against his seat in much the same way you are, “First of all, college boys are always idiots, don’t let that be your base line,” You snort and turn your head to look at him now, “What did tonight’s idiot do?”

You shake your head at him, “He was just a misogynistic asshole,” You add a shrug, “Apparently because I’m a woman I should write about fashion and not anything that actually matters.”

Javi scoffs, because in his experience, women make the best journalists, quiet, unassuming but they always knew how to pull strings and get what they wanted and he doesn’t doubt you’re the same, “Take it as a compliment,” He offers, “Sometimes it’s best to intimidate boys, and the ones that you don’t?” He asks as a rhetorical question, “Those will be the men worth your time.”

You chuckle a bit, rolling your head on the headrest behind you to look back out of the front of the car, “You’re just saying this to make me feel better.”

Javi reaches over, takes hold of your hand and gives it a slight squeeze before he’s letting it drop again, almost like he’s been burnt, like he knows he shouldn’t have done it, “I am saying it to make you feel better, that’s the whole point, but it’s true,” He shrugs a little in his seat, “Don’t feel like you’ve got to rush into that side of life either, you’re still young, there’s plenty of time for you.”

You hum in agreement because you know he’s right, it’s what everyone always says to you in these circumstances, but somehow, coming from him, it means more. He’s older than you and although you’ve no doubt that he’s known plenty of women in his time, he’s in just the same predicament as you are.

“Will you take me home?” You ask softly, “I’m tired.”

He nods, starting up his car, pulling out of the parking lot and finally driving you back home.

He pulls his truck up just down the street from your house, far enough away that your dad won’t be able to see, but close enough that he knows he’ll be able to sit and wait to watch you get in safely. He cuts the engine and turns to you, giving you a soft smile, trying to tell you that it’ll all be okay.

“Thanks,” You speak softly, “For all this, made a shitty night not so bad in the end.”

“Always,” He smiles back, “I mean it when I say you don’t ever need to worry about calling me.”

“I know,” You smile, and he feels his heart swell at the sight, “Well, goodnight Javi.”

He doesn’t really register what’s happening until it’s too late. You drag your body across the truck instead of moving to the door to open it and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. It would be innocent enough if it wasn’t for the fact your lips press into the skin just far enough away from his mouth so as not to cross a line, but not right in the middle of his cheek either. It’s the softest way he’s been touched in a long time, and he can feel himself wanting to grip onto you, smash his mouth to your own and finally scratch the itch that’s sitting under his skin.

You pull away, but before you can open the door, he’s taking hold of your wrist and moving closer, pressing his own kiss to your cheek right back, further up your skin than you had done to him, but it’s a kiss to your skin none-the-less, one that floods his chest with hope, a feeling he hasn’t really felt in years. He keeps his mouth there probably for a little longer than he should, committing the feel of your skin on his mouth because he knows this is as far as he should push things, but he also knows that he now needs to know what the rest of your skin feels like under his mouth.

He pulls away and when he looks at your eyes, all full of hope and want, the same look he’d seen countless times in Colombia, whether he was promising a visa or led next to someone in bed, and he knows he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged these kinds of feelings, but he’s done it now, he can’t take it back, wouldn’t want to if he could either.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, querida,” He says softly, “Nothing wrong with you at all.”

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ellebakers · 1 year

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☆ Still love you (+18)

Chad meeks martin x reader.

Summary : You're chad's first love, the one he had before liv, you also survived the woodsboro massacre but since that event you've been doing everything you can to escape reality even if it means destroying yourself and chad can't stand it.

Warnings : Sex, mention of death, blood, language.

everything was better before.

you have always lived in woodsboro, within a warm and loving family. you went to school all year with the same group of friends. tara carpenter, wes hicks, amber freeman, mindy and her brother chad meeks martin.

you have always been closer to chad, wes and amber, indeed wes has always been your confidant, the one to whom you talked about your problems and to whom you confided your secrets. amber your sidekick, the one with whom you did all your first times like your first cigarette, your first hangover and many other things you weren't proud of.

and chad, he was your best friend then your first boyfriend, your first love, the one to whom you gave your virginity and who gave you his.

everything was perfect, until the day your mother gale weathers received a job offer in new york.

you had to say goodbye to your friends, to your love to go and live elsewhere.

at first, your father followed you, but he couldn't handle life in a big city, so he left your mother to go back to live in woodsboro. why didn't you follow him ? well because of chad. when you moved to new york, you tried to make things work, you called each other, he came on certain weekends and you went to his house when you could, but the distance got the better of your relationship. little by little you lost this link, you no longer had anything in common so breaking up was the best decision. then some time later he posted on social media with his new girlfriend liv. so you preferred to stay with your mother and start a new life. apart from your friends and your father, you didn't care about anything in woodsboro.

until the day when wes called you to tell you that tara had been assaulted by someone wearing the ghostface mask. you didn't hesitate a minute and you ran to your childhood town.

the reunion with chad was embarrassing. just like meeting his girlfriend. but that wasn't what hurt you the most, no. what destroyed you was the brutal death of your father, that of your best friend wes and for the grand finale you discovered that the person you trusted the most was responsible for these deaths. amber, your best friend murdered your father and she was responsible for wes' death. she looked you straight in the eye, she told you how she killed your father, then she stabbed you multiple times, watching you bleed out on her kitchen floor.

she didn't do it alone, of course, richie, samantha carpenter's boyfriend was her accomplice and obviously her secret boyfriend. you managed to survive thanks to your mother, your godmother sidney, samantha and tara who killed richie and amber.

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

this was all a year ago. a lot of things have happened since. you went back to new york with your mother to try to mourn your father. you had graduated and had been accepted to blackmore university just like tara, mindy and chad.

samantha had also moved to town, she lived in an apartment not far from campus with her sister and a girl named quinn. mindy lived on campus with his girlfriend anika and chad also lived on campus with his roommate ethan.

between your mother and you things have changed since despite what she had promised, she had written a fucking book about what happened while writing shit about your friends.

that's why you decided to take an apartment not far from sam and tara.

but despite your new life and the fact that you and chad became closer and closer, you felt empty. every night you dreamed of your father's death. and every night you woke up screaming and crying.

for months you felt like shit. but during a party you found a way to sleep well. thanks to drugs.

your dealer’s name was jordan, he was a guy who was in your history class. he gave you some smoking plants and you had the best night in months, so you went back and bought some over and over again so much that now when you feel a nightmare coming you wake up and take a few puffs to sleep well.

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

this party was really bad, but the alcohol was flowing and your drinking partner. tara. was full of energy and she wasn't about to let you go. not now.

"i need another drink." informed you the brunette before leaving in the direction of the kitchen to reload.

you scanned the crowd for a certain boy. but you were very quickly disappointed when you found him leaning against a wall, a pretty redhead under his arm making puppy eyes at him. you took a last sip of your glass and headed for the dance floor.

you were dancing alone when jordan approached you, your mood lit up seeing him.

"jordyyyyyy." you exclaimed jumping at him.

he laughed and pushed you lightly. "oh oh i know someone who is drunk."

you rolled your eyes. "absolutely not."

he approached your ear and whispered to you. "i have brand new merchandise."

you bit your lip and nodded, whispering back. "you know i'm always a taker."

from the outside, it looks like you're talking about something hot. like two students who proposed a sex session.

at least that's how chad felt and his hand tightened around his can even more, he wasn't paying any attention to what the redhead was saying to him. all that was on his mind was how close this guy was to you and how you bit your lip as he whispered something in your ear. he felt his blood boil as you took this guy's hand, guiding him upstairs.

"chad are you listening to me."

without even looking at the girl he intended to fuck in the bathroom, he answered her. "no." then he went in the same direction as you.

once upstairs, he tried to open all the doors, but they were all locked and moans were heard in each one. he was trying to recognize your voice but he couldn't.

the fact that you could be one of this moaning girls made him want to vomit. not imagine you moaning, no, it was imagining a guy other than him making you moan that made him sick.

suddenly he froze when he heard your laughter in the bathroom. he put his ear to the door to listen.

"i promise you y/n, this guy was hot, but he lasted like three seconds."

your laugh made chad smile, he hadn't heard you laugh in a long time.

"i know what it is, don't worry."

jordan laughed in turn. "go ahead and explain. i have just entrusted you with my worst hookup, it's up to you now."

he knew he shouldn't be listening, but curiosity pushed him to press his ear even closer to the door.

"okay. It was like two years ago. my mom was at a social party. i was bored to death and one of the waiters was flirting with me so i ended up letting him fuck me in the storeroom except. he came in like two thrusts and moaned oh shit, yes i’m your little slut."

your dealer burst out laughing throwing his head back. "oh fuck. will we ever find a handsome and talented guy in bed."

you took a puff of your magic cigarette before turning to jordan. "i had found him. chad, my first love."

"oh oh chad like your buddy chad." you nodded. "yeah, he was my first boyfriend and obviously my first time. i never loved anyone else after him. and believe me, i slept with a lot of guys after our breakup however, i never had so many orgasms with them, whereas when chad and i did it, he didn't give me a minute of rest ."

jordan clapped a hand against his chest. "y/n stop otherwise i'll come down and fuck him myself."

you rolled your eyes. "he's probably already busy with the pretty redhead he had under his arm earlier."

jordan shook his head. "listen even if he's good in bed, he's dumb. if i had an ex as hot as you, i'd do anything to get her back."

chad didn't know what to do. he felt the blush rise to his cheeks, not only had you never loved after him but you confessed that he was the best sex of your life.

he widened his eyes when he heard you say. "i want to fuck now."

jordan cleared his throat. "oh uh, that's really cool, but you know i like guys then." you burst out laughing and nudged his shoulder. "i'm not talking about you jordan. i just want to fuck that's all."

he laughed in turn. "i'm sure you can find a guy or a vibrator. anyway. i'll go." you got up from the bathtub where you were. "wait, how much do i owe you for this ?" he shook his head. "nothing at all, a little magic cigarette from time to time is good."

chad frowned. you were on drugs.

he didn't have time to hide, jordan opened the door and came face to face with him. the dealer turns to you. "oh chad." you pulled out the joint you were smoking and groaned when you saw him. "shit."

he pushed aside to let jordan pass and he entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him, sticking his back to it. he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you. "if you're looking for a free bathroom for your antics with the pretty redhead, there's one downstairs i think." you put on a fake smile and looked at your reflection in the mirror to fix the mascara that had run due to the heat.

"since when do you do this ?" he asked you.

you didn't even try to deny or avoid the question, you kept removing the mascara using a cotton ball you had found and water. "since i wake up every night screaming after dreaming of my father's death." you dropped it so naturally that he was seized with shivers. he straightened up and approached you. "what ?"

you caught his eye in the mirror and shrugged. "when I'm not dreaming of my father's death, i'm dreaming of wes' death or what amber did to me, so. what you saw me smoked helps me sleep without waking me up screaming and crying."

he turned you to him and put his hands on your hips. "why didn't you tell me, i could have helped."

"and how huh ? by coming to tuck me in. by reading me a story."

he paused, considering what to say. then he took your face in his hands and ran his thumb over your lips. "like that." he leaned down and put his lips against yours. instinctively you put your arms around his neck and kissed him back. he gently passed his tongue against your lips to ask permission to enter. you gave it to him as you opened your mouth and your tongues danced until you had to push each other to breathe.

"it works quite well."

he rested his forehead against yours and stroked your cheek with his thumb. "so stop taking that shit."

you closed your eyes and exhaled. "chad, i have no other solutions."

he nodded. "you have other solutions. i just showed you one."

you growled and pushed you away from him to turn towards the mirror. "and what am I supposed to do ? call you every time in the middle of the night so that you come and kiss me and then leave. it will be useless because in any case i find myself alone in this apartment ."

he leaned his chest against your back and pushed your hair over one shoulder to gain access to your neck. he gave it a few kisses before putting his chin up and looking at you in the mirror.

"you don't have to be alone. i can stay with you."

he put his hands around your waist and you put your hand on his. feeling him against you reassured you.

"that's when you're going to tell me that's what friends do. isn't it."

he rested his mouth on your neck but instead of kissing it he sucked it lightly, which forced you to bite your lip to keep you from moaning. after all these years he still knew where your sensitive spot is.

he lifted his mouth slightly. "i think we know you like me that we are more than friends."

he ran one of his hands over your breasts sensually, made you arch your back, he took advantage of the fact that you weren't wearing a bra to take one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, made you moan. your dress was so thin that you felt like you were naked under his hands.

"i still love you. you know it y/n, you always knew it."

"chad." you whispered. as he continued to play with your now hard nipples, he reached his other hand between your thighs and stroked you gently but adding pressure. that drove you crazy. you needed him and now.

he turned you around stopping his gestures on your body and kissed you. he picked you up gently and placed you on the sink.

"baby if only you knew how much i pictured us like this." he whispered against your mouth. "you, sweating and begging me to keep going. and me, deep inside you. for years i couldn't stop thinking about us, the way our bodies fit perfectly together. the way you arched your body every time that i was hitting that sweet spot."

he was going to kill you, not only with his words but also by his lack of caresses. "chad touch me please."

he smiled against your mouth and without warning, he tore your panties and inserted a finger inside you. the pleasure was such that you arched your back and moaned louder, louder than with any other guy.

"tell me that you also thought of us."

you gasped as he inserted a second finger. writhing in pleasure you grabbed his top and pulled him against your lips. he kissed you with such fervor that your whole body burst into flames.

"all the time." you whispered against his mouth.

he withdrew his fingers and pushed himself away. you were about to complain but he got down on his knees and took your thighs which he pulled to bring you closer to the edge of the sink, taking care not to let you fall. you understood very quickly what he had in mind.

he spread your thighs, put one of your legs on his shoulder and he started what he had wanted to do for too long. he began by leaving kisses inside your thigh while going up, made you shiver.

you slipped a hand behind his head to guide him, impatient because you knew what he was capable of with his mouth.

he looked at you one last time, admiring the girl he was in love with then he plunged his head between your legs and inserted his tongue into your pussy.

you arch your back and moan his name. "chad. fuck keep going." you continued to moan louder and louder as he sucked, licked and shoved his tongue in.

hearing you moan made him harden, he was so hard that he had to palm himself through his jeans to relieve himself a little. it was sure that he was going to cum without you even touching him. just with the sounds you made.

when your moans became louder and louder he understood that you were going to cum so he continued to devour you until you reached orgasm.

once done. he got up and kissed you. you slipped a hand between the two of you and started to undo his belt but he pushed your hands away. you frown. "why ?" he smiled at you. "i heard what you said a little earlier. that you wanted to fuck, so here's what i'm going to do. i'm going to take you back to your apartment and fuck you until morning."

and chad was a man of his word. he had actually walked you home and then he had fucked you in all the positions he had imagined you in and on every surface of your apartment, from the kitchen, to the dining room table, to the sofa and to the bedroom. put it all to bed until morning. and the short time you slept, you didn't have a single nightmare.

✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚

#chad meeks smut #chad meeks martin #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin x you #scream vi

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bingwriterxo · 9 months

Text

moth to a flame

pairing: amber freeman x reader, minor wes hicks x reader

summary: in which you get a new boyfriend, yet he's not who you really want

warnings: mentions of domestic violence, talks of homophobia, cheating

word count: 1000+

author's note: loosely based on 'moth to a flame' by swedish house mafia & the weeknd. writing mojo's back, babyyyy 🤠

“So,” Mindy started as she slammed her hands down on the lunch table, her eyes sparkling with an excitement that made Amber want to puke, “let’s talk about the happy, new couple!” She climbed into her seat and whipped her head around. “Coast is clear. Thoughts, everyone?”

Liv piped up first. “I think they’re adorable!”

“Yeah,” Chad agreed, grinning. “They’re cute together.”

“I’m just happy that Y/N is happy,” Tara said. She shrugged and added, as an afterthought, “Wes, too, I guess.”

Amber scoffed and crossed her arms, sitting up a little straighter when everyone looked at her. “Are you idiots blind? Wes is a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend.” She narrowed her eyes at her friends as disgust boiled beneath her skin. “He’s not nearly good enough for Y/N.”

Mindy rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. “You don’t think anyone’s good enough for her, Amber. You said that about her last three boyfriends.”

Amber nodded. “Yeah, and I was right. They all ended up being abusive assholes.” Even just mentioning your ex-boyfriends left a bad taste in her mouth and ignited a murderous flame in her chest. Oh, what she’d give to teach all of them a lesson.

“Okay,” Liv began, a little hesitant, “but we know Wes, and he’s good for her! He’s the sweet ‘boy-next-door’ type.”

“Yeah,” Tara said. “He’d never hurt a hair on Y/N’s head. Not like…” She trailed off, and the silence of the group spoke for itself. Amber clenched her jaw at the thought. “Besides, she was so happy to tell us about the relationship! They both were.” She reached out and placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “She’s in good hands, Amber.”

“Yeah, right,” Amber muttered. “If he so much as touches her, I’ll--”

“Who’re you threatening today, Ambs?” Your teasing voice interrupted the girl’s warning, and she looked up at you, smiling, before her face fell upon seeing Wes beside you, a grin pulling at his own lips. She swore she could feel bile rise in the back of her throat when she realized that the two of you were holding hands. “Someone good, I hope,” you said, chuckling.

You fell into the seat beside Mindy, greeting the rest of the table, and Wes was left to sit across from Amber, shifting uncomfortably beneath her stare.

“Yeah,” Amber said, smirking at the blonde boy. “Someone real good.”

* * *

“Jesus Christ!” Amber groaned as she reached for her phone, which had been ringing non-stop for minutes. “Can’t a girl just get some sleep?” With her eyes half-closed, she answered the call, barking out, “What?” and almost immediately regretting it when your teary voice echoed through the phone.

“Ambs,” you whispered.

She shot up, her eyes wide and worried, her heart pounding in her chest. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I--” You hesitated, and Amber could feel her stomach drop when you sniffled. “Can I come over? It’s my parents.”

Half of her wanted to snark, “Why don’t you call Wes?”, but the other half of her--the half she knew she’d listen to--just wanted to hold you in her arms and keep you safe.

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “Come over.”

When you hung up, telling her you’d be there in ten minutes, Tara’s voice started to ring through her head: she’s in good hands, Amber. A small, tiny, minuscule part of her that she’d never admit existed almost felt bad for the boy.

* * *

As soon as you arrived, you were crawling beneath Amber’s blankets and wrapping your arms around her waist, your face nuzzling into her neck as you inhaled her scent. She was holding you just as tightly, glad that your tears had subsided in the time it had taken for you to cross town.

“You okay, baby?” Amber asked, her voice loud in the otherwise silent room.

You hummed, shuffling even closer to her. “Better now,” you confessed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed deeply. “They’re just fighting again. It’s whatever.”

Amber hated when you did that--when you’d brush off the troubles that were going on at home, when you’d brush off your own feelings. Still, there was a flicker of pride in her chest that you had called her rather than Wes.

The two of you settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes, but after a while, Amber could no longer let sleeping dogs lie, and she piped up.

“So, you and Wes.” Her face soured at the boy’s name, and she could feel you tense in her arms. “We should probably talk about that.”

“What do you want me to say?” you asked carefully.

“You like him?”

You sat up, and Amber immediately regretted saying anything at all, missing your warmth. “Can we not do this right now?”

She sat up, too, drawing her knees to her chest. “You called me; you were cuddling with me. I think we have to do this right now, Y/N,” she said, tilting her head. She scoffed when you stayed silent. “Of all the boys at Woodsboro, you had to choose one of our friends?”

“He’s safe, Amber. You saw what happened when I chose at random. You saw,” you said, your voice tight and shaky, and Amber glanced away, images of your bruised wrists flashing through her mind. “At least with Wes, I know he won’t hurt me.”

“Why do you have to choose a guy at all?” she asked. “We both know how you really feel, and you don’t feel anything for that boy.”

You hung your head. “I can’t come out,” you whispered. “You know that. You know what my parents would say, what they’d do.” You looked back up at her. “But you’re right: we both do know how I feel, what I feel.” You reached out, fingers skimming over her hand. “For you.”

Amber cursed the butterflies that stirred in her stomach at the touch and bit the inside of her cheek. “You know I already can’t stand Wes, and I really don’t care about his feelings, but if he finds out--”

“He won’t. They never do.”

“But if he does--”

You interrupted her with a kiss, soft and sweet and loving, and when you pulled away, your forehead pressed against hers, you whispered, “He won’t.”

#amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #amber x reader #mikey madison x reader #mikey madison #wes hicks x reader #wes hicks #scream 5

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totalswag · 2 months

Text

chapter one - all I want - rafe cameron

paring rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

authors note the first chapter is finally up! i can't wait for to start this series with you guys. you have no idea the amount of deduction i've put in this first chapter. i hope you lovies enjoy the first chapter.

summary Y/N Y/L/N is a regular kook that lives in the Outer Banks. One of the most pleasant person to encounter. Room lights up when you enter a room. Contrary to some kooks, you don't care whether side of the island people come from. Friends with the pogue's. You go through a lot struggles in your life where you shy's away from the world. Rafe Cameron, also known as Kook King. He has a huge reputation on the island; is cold, cocky, jerk face, asshole, and will say whatever he wants to get what he wants. Behind all that tuff-ness, he struggles with a lot of things too. On a random Friday night you meet for the first time and Rafe can’t seem to get you out of his head after your little encounter. He’s never met a girl like you before. Eventually, you learn a lot about the Cameron boy from your eyes.

word count 1.7k

warnings love, crying, kissing/making out, yelling, partying, cursing, explicit scenes, fighting, mentions of death, possible pregnancy?, addiction, mentions of drinking and other drug substances.

You've lived in the Outer Banks for as long as you can remember. Lived in the same house since you were a little girl. Made so many memories, both good and bad.

You grew up on what others say “kook side” of the island, which honestly you never understood why that name was given in the first place. Never cared for the name title either.

Since you could remember, you didn't really care what side of the island people came from. Yeah, you went to school full of kooks but everyone's the same in that they do not care about the people who live in the cut. Never cared about which side of the island the people were from. You are good friends with the pogues too and occasionally hang out with them here and there.

You were in your room on the bed with your best friend Scarlett watching a movie on your tv. Both of you have been relaxing at your house for a few hours in your room hanging out. Today was one of those days where all you wanted to do was relax after a long week.

Scarlett has been one of your closest and best friends since eighth school. Scarlett is one of those friends you can talk to about everything. She won't judge you for talking about the same thing. She is a sweet and caring person, yet she can flip the switch if you mess with her. To this day, you have no idea what you would do without her.

“How was the mainland and seeing your brother?” Scarlett asked you, when you re-entered your room after using the bathroom

Your family and you went to the mainland to see your older brother, Adam, and his new home, which he had purchased with his girlfriend, Liv. Plus, it was a good time to be surrounded by family and enjoy the small get away from Kildare for once.

"Y/N do you want to go to Topper's party tonight?" Scarlett asked, twisting her body to face you.

“Starts at ten thirty.” She says before you could ask about the start of the party.

"Uh, I don't see why not," you shrug, "Topper throws good parties too." You chuckle, gazing at Scarlett, who nods in agreement.

Parties are usually your thing on the weekends when you feel like going out. When you get a few drinks in you, you are the life of the party and have fun with your friends.

When you aren’t in the mood to go out you spend your time at home enjoying your night watching movies in your room in your cozy clothing.

“We can stay at my house since I live closer to him anyways. Plus, my parents are out of town for the weekend” Scarlett explains.

Topper Thorton, one of the well known kooks in Kildare. Everyone knows him. Known him for a few years now and have become one of your good friends. He throws some of the best parties too.

Before you began packing your things for the night, you went downstairs to ask your parents, who were relaxing on the couch in the living room, watching their favorite television shows of all time.

“Hey sweetheart,” your dad, Edward, smiles when he sees you enter the living room, “you need something?” curiously looking at you as he tried to figure out what was about to come out of your mouth.

“Yes, can I stay the night at Scarletts?” You ask kindly, closing your eyes, crossing your fingers behind your back.

Your parents look at each other without saying a word then look at you with a nod.

“Thank you, I love you” smiling, blowing them kisses before running upstairs to your room.

“You know you don’t need to ask” your dad yelled as you raced upstairs.

Scarlett was walking out your bathroom when you entered your room casually, “what did they say?” she asked curiously, looking at you, trying to figure out what the answer is.

“It’s a yes bitch,” smiling as you do a little dance.

“This is gonna be so fun.” she smirks, nodding her head as you walk over to your closet picking a couple outfits you might wear.

“The smell of weed is already filling my lungs and we haven’t reached the house yet” you laughed interlocking your elbow with Scarlett as you two walked towards the house alongside others.

“Pretty soon we might be smoking that weed,” Scarlett replied with a chuckle.

“You are correct on that one.”

You get this strange pit in your stomach the moment you arrive at the party, which you had never had previously when you went to parties. You told yourself not to worry about it and instead focus on the upcoming night.

People turned their heads as you went inside the home, focusing all of their attention on you. You entered the party with your heads held high with confidence.

On the island, you are well-known for your personality. When you're just being yourself, people gravitate toward you. When you walk into a room, all eyes are on you; your presence captivates everyone you encounter.

The lights throughout the house were darkened to match the ambiance of the party, and the music was loud enough. Almost everyone was doing everything you see at a party– drinking, smoking, using other drug substances, making out, dancing, drinking games, etc.

Parties are well-known on the Outer Banks. Almost every weekend, there is a party happening. Parties you won’t forget. There are house parties or beach parties; you name it, and someone will throw it somewhere.

If you can be honest, so much was going on all at once you couldn't wrap your head around it.

A few people you know approached you as you walked past people who were tipsy, drunk, or high, eager to see you two at the party.

"Let's get some drinks, yeah?" You spoke into Scarlett's ear as you walked down the hallway that led to the kitchen and living area.

Upon entering the area, two tables laid out with people playing drinking games.

There were many coolers with different types of alcohol inscribed on top, which made decision-making easier because if it didn't, you'd have problems finding the drink you were looking for if the names weren’t on top.

People sometimes leave coolers without labels, resulting in ice on the kitchen floor that melts into water and causes someone to slip. You can't count on your fingers how many times you've seen it.

"Quickly grab two drinks just in case we finish these," Scarlett exclaims excitedly, making you laugh.

There were varieties of alcohol on the counter, along with a handful of shot glasses and red solo cups that were either empty, half-filled, or just waiting to be pulled out of the plastic bag.

When you picked a spot in the living room by the sliding glass door, you could hear a drunk Topper come inside the house with two other boys who were equally drunk. The two other guys must be new because you’ve never seen them before.

"I'm so glad you two made it tonight!" Drunk Topper smiled and opened his arms as you approached him.

"Hey, top!" you both exclaimed, smiling toothily.

"When did you both get here?" He asks, slurring his words, but you understand what he's saying.

"Ten minutes ago, but don't worry, we'll be drinking more throughout the night; you know us best," you respond, poking Scarlett's left shoulder with your right.

He closes his eyes and nods, "That's what I like to hear, Whoo!" throwing his fist in the air before giving you both a hug then walking down the hall.

You turned around to face Scarlett, who was taking a large sip of her drink, which caught you off guard. She slapped your arm playfully, signaling you to chug your drink and allow the alcohol get you tipsy.

"That felt good," you grinned and sighed.

"Hey Y/N, Scarlett come play rage cage with us," said Josh, one of your guy friends, motioning for you to join the gathering of people gathered around the table.

Fuck it.

Rage cage is one of the most entertaining drinking games of all time. You take it very seriously every time you play, and so do many other people. You don't want to buy the bitch cup because some of them contain different types of alcohol.

Half an hour later, you are really drunk. Drunk enough to still know what you are doing and maybe saying.

“Girl drop it to the floor, I love the way yo’ booty go” everyone sang throughout the house.

All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move

You were dancing with your girlfriends on the dance floor with drunken bodies surrounding you– bodies dancing in sync to the rhythm of the song. Scarlett was a few away dancing with the guy she’s been seeing so you had a good eye on her.

You held your drink in your hand, tightly, covering the opening. You turned away from the crowded dance floor because the sweaty drunk bodies were making you feel hot. You need to walk outside to get some air real quick.

"I'm going to get some air; I'll be back," you said above the loud music to Amber, one of your close friends, gesturing to the balcony.

Amber nods and advises you to be cautious before walking through the crowd and call her if anything happens.

You give her a quick hug. She’s too kind.

As you turned to face the balcony, you were caught off guard by a muscular chest bumping into you, causing you to stumble back somewhat before being caught by the two strong hands.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry about that," the male voice says, pulling you up and stooping down to make eye contact, trying to see if you were okay. The eye contact was strong, almost sending chills down your spine.

When you looked up, your jaw dropped but quickly closed to avoid looking foolish. The face appears familiar, but you can't place a name to it.

"No worries, I wasn't paying attention," you drunkenly giggled, pulling your hair out of your face and tucking one strand behind your ear.

"I'm Y/N, by the way," you grinned, extending your free hand.

"Rafe," he says with a toothy smile, shaking your hand, “Cameron.”

Suddenly that weird feeling went away…

all i want tag-list

@winterrrnight @lucky7rosie @bejeweledreverie @rachelivey333

➨ i have two separate tag-lists one for my regular fics and this tag-list if for this series. if you would like to be added to my regular tag-list, you can let me know in the comment section.

➨ welcome to my rafe series tag-list readers. if you aren't on my taglist and would like to be notified whenever i upload a chapter feel free to leave a comment in the comment section or hit that follow button with post notifications (works either way).

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wonnieloves · 5 days

Text

give me that beat

#icons #kpop #kpop icons #moodboard #kpop moodboard #riize #wonbin #riize wonbin #wonbin icons #wonbin moodboard #riize mooboard #riize wonbin moodboard #riize comeback #riize impossible #liv's little town #wonnieloves

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multific · 11 months

Text

Wanted and Needed

Deckard Shaw x Reader

Warnings: mention of smut, pregnancy

Summary: It was only meant to be one night. But of course, it is never that easy.

The way he looked at you always sent shivers down your spine. He made you feel so good about yourself.

And then, during a race, he stepped over to you and whispered into your ear.

"I will win for you." he said before getting into his car.

You could only blink and watch as he indeed, won.

Being a long member of the team, you had your opinions on Deckard in the beginning but you were quickly smitten by his looks and charm.

He looked too good in his suit.

He won and he took you home that same evening.

That night changed your entire life.

It was truly meant to be a fling.

A nice fuck and done.

He made you feel incredible, you never felt so good with anyone ever.

But when the morning came, he was gone. Even the bed was cold.

And so, you knew that your hopes for a round two in the morning were ruined.

But as you found out soon, during your monthly doctor's check-up, Deckard Shaw might have left a bit more than just his necktie in your place.

"Congratulations, you are pregnant."

All you could do is let out a long sigh.

Pregnant.

Because of fucking course.

Why not?

Like, you were totally ready to be a mom... IF you wanted to be one to begin with.

And now... you are going to have a baby because Deckard Shaw was too handsome so you lied about being on pills... great you were going to be a mother while being this stupid.

Awesome.

First things first, you decided not to tell Deckard. The others also didn't know, you told them you are moving for a fresh start.

Which was kind of true. Dom was the only one who saw right through you and the only one who knew about the baby.

He, of course, supported you in every way he could.

You moved to a new town into a small house. It was perfect for you and your baby.

Perfect for you to freak out 24/7 about how you are going to be a bad mom, trying to read books while throwing up.

Fun.

Buying stuff for the baby, trying not to cry at every cute little sock you see.

Being pregnant was extremely challenging.

Who knew?!

According to your new doctor, everything was going very well with your baby, you even learned that you will be having a little girl, so now, you were full-on princess mode.

But your worry never stopped.

And as your belly grew, so did your worries.

Deep down you also knew that you shouldn't worry, it wasn't good for the baby, but you couldn't help it.

You let out a long sigh, and finally, during the last two months you decided that you are going to be the best mom, you for sure will try.

You promised yourself that you will be good. Then you promised your baby that you will be good.

When you went into labour, you let your instincts take over instead of panic.

Giving birth was an entirely new level of pain. But you kept reminding yourself to just push and breathe.

It will be all worth it.

And it did.

Your daughter was born perfect.

Healthy and beautiful.

You gave her a beautiful name, Olivia.

Olivia looked much like her father, her eyes were a dead telltale sign. She couldn't even deny even if she wanted to that she was indeed Deckard Shaw's little girl.

You often wondered what Deckard was doing... probably a blonde. Dom often gave you calls to check up on you, which you appreciated, you even sent him photos of Liv.

Liv was a rather fussy baby. She liked things her way, not yours. But she loved to sleep.

Even with her crib in your room, she barely woke up.

Her fussy period ended in her third week. From then on, he became an extremely interested little girl. Everything and anything in your house had to be at least licked once. But she caused you so much happiness.

Dom wanted to come over and meet the newest addition to the family, he promised it would be only him.

"Look, Livie! It's Uncle Dom." Olivia was at first a bit taken aback by the stranger but she soon got used to him. "She mainly eats and sleeps, but she is very interested in everything," you told to Dom as he had her in his arms.

"She is beautiful," he said and you could sense in his voice, he wanted to say more but decided against it. "Deckard was looking for you. I heard he asked the others about you, he even called Luke."

"Dom..."

"I know, I know why you did what you did. But don't you think he deserves to know that he has a daughter?"

"When I found out, I tried to call him. But he never called back. To me, that was clear, he didn't want anything to do with me. And I'm okay with that. I have her now." Dom nodded.

At the end of the day, Dom left waving you goodbye.

It was honestly amazing to see him, he talked a lot about the others and how they miss you.

You knew that one day you will have to face them, not yet, but someday.

Liv was sleeping in her room, it was midafternoon when the doorbell rang.

You headed to open it.

As soon as you locked eyes with him, your heart stopped.

You immediately closed the door in his face.

He knocked again.

"Sweetheart, open the door please." he said.

"Just a moment!"

Just what in the fuck was Deckard doing here? Did Dom tell him? No. He had to find out on his own. You tried your best to hide any evidence about your baby, hiding the toys and the pictures.

When you opened the door again, and let him in, you were panicking.

"I've been looking for you, could have used your skills for a mission."

Ah, of course. You were rather disappointed.

"I don't work, Deckard."

"I know, everyone keeps telling me that you retired."

"I did."

"Why?"

"I was tired of it." what a lie. How could you ever get tired of being a badass?

There was a moment of silence. You watched him think before he spoke up.

"You disappeared... the only way I could find you was through Dom."

"You tracked his car?"

"Of course, I have been looking for you for almost a year and a half now. 14 months."

"I had my reasons. And you left the next day, so I don't see why you would care where I went after."

"I'm not good with this... emotions and whatnot."

"Right. Thank you for the visit." you said pointing at your door and to your surprise, he left without any fuss.

"If you need help, I put my number into your phone."

"I won't." you closed and locked the door behind him, finally letting out a sigh.

This was bad. Very bad.

You couldn't move again, it would only be a matter of time for him to find you.

You thought long and hard. So he hacked Dom's phone and didn't check his messages? He didn't know about Olivia? What was happening?

You needed some fresh air, so when Liv woke up from her nap, you decided to take a walk with her in the neighbourhood, heading to the park. You could also use the fresh air and the time to think.

Thankfully Liv was in a great mood. She loved being outdoors. You stopped by a bench and sat down, having her in her stroller, she was sitting, looking around with big bright eyes, taking in the pigeons and the trees.

No matter how many times you were in the park, she always looked so excited and interested, even in the things she had seen many many times before.

She then motioned for you, asking to be picked up. She cooed as her hands made grabbing motions.

You smiled and picked her up.

Bounding her a little you smiled as she grabbed your necklace, pulling on it.

How could she be so strong?!

She then pointed at the pigeons.

"Pigeon." you told her as she cooed once more. You thought this was too cute. It was as if she was trying to say pigeon but couldn't. Then she pointed at a figure. "That's a man." you said as she was focused on the man.

Then you looked up, finally realizing who the man was.

Deckard.

Fuck.

Shit.

Without a word, you stood up and tried to walk away. Liv was rather confused you could tell but she didn't mind the sudden change in pace too much.

Then suddenly he was in front of you, you pulled Liv to your chest, your other hand tightening around the handle of the stroller.

"Deckard..."

"You have a child." he sounded way too calm.

"I-I do." you watched as his eyes roamed all over your daughter, particularly her face. There was no denying the fact that she was his.

"Who's the father?" you felt so powerless. You have not felt like this in a very long time.

"Deckard..." you tried to collect your thoughts. Thoughts you have been telling yourself for two years now. "You left. The next morning, you were gone."

"Jesus, Lass. And you think what? That I don't want to know about my daughter?"

"You didn't want me, why would you want her?"

"I woke up to make breakfast but got a call-" you put your hand up.

"I tried to call you, you didn't call me back."

"I have no excuse. I fucked that up. But I deserve to know that I have a child."

"You treated me like shit. I got the message, you didn't want anything from me but a quick time. I don't see why you would care about Liv."

"I do." he said with a calm voice. "I care. I spent all this time, trying to find you. I asked the others, no one knew. But I soon realized that you and Dom were closer, so you must have told him. I tracked his phone and... I came here to find you but I could have never imagined... her."

It was hard for you to believe that he cared. But he looked genuine.

It wasn't until Olivia broke the silence with a small whine when you looked at her, again, she was pointing at something.

"It's a dog, Love." then you looked back at Deckard. "Look, I really don't need... your money. It's okay, truly. I just... You left."

"I did. And I regret not leaving at least a text message. I regret it every day."

"I-Come by tomorrow. We will talk while she naps." Deckard nodded before he watched you leave.

---

Little did you know that Deckard basically slept in his car to make sure you wouldn't run off.

And you didn't.

In the early afternoon, he once again stood at the door, he could hear the cries coming from inside.

Deckard knocked, he watched the door open to ajar.

"Come in!" you said as he headed in, closing and locking the door behind himself. "She just won't settle. I'll take her to her room, I'll be back."

"Can I help?" he asked as you let out a huff.

"Oh, I don't think. Sometimes she is just like this." you said as you walked to the back of the house into her room. Deckard followed you, watching as you cried to calm her.

It did work a little, but now Olivia was watching the stranger in her room.

She motioned for Deckard as if she wanted to be held by him.

"I don't think he wants to hold you baby."

"I do." his reply came in so fast it almost scared you.

"Okay." you headed over to him.

"I want to but how do I?" you showed him just how to hold her as you watched her reaction. As soon as she was in his arms, she stopped fussing, gripping his shirt, she closed her eyes. "When she falls asleep, put her to her bed." you said as you pointed at the small bed. "And the blanket over her." Deckard nodded.

You decided to leave them alone, as you were leaving you stopped in the doorway.

"If you run off with her... Nothing will stop me."

"I'm not going to kidnap her from you." he said, rolling his eyes. You nodded once before leaving and having some lunch finally.

Deckard could only watch this tiny human in his arms. Was a beauty she was. She looked exactly like her mother, but she did have his eyes.

He did as you asked him, put her into her bed and put her pink blanket over her.

Deckard watched her for a couple of minutes but soon left her room, letting the little girl sleep.

"She is almost five months old." you said as he appeared, you just finished your lunch. "A true gift."

"She looks like you."

"I think she looks more like you."

"How was the... pregnancy?"

"Challenging. I was sick very often so they had to give me meds. Then she decided to come early. I was terrified."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly, you didn't know."

"But now, I'm here."

"I left because I was scared. So scared. First I wanted to tell you. I truly did. But I got scared that you would tell me to... leave her. I will be honest I wasn't ready to be a mother, I am still trying to figure out how I should go about this but... if you are willing to try, I-I want to give you a chance so you could see her."

Deckard didn't even need to think. The moment he saw the little girl in your arms in the park, he knew.

"I want to be a part of her life. I want you to move to London to live with me. That way we can raise her together."

"You know I always wanted to live there..."

"I do know. I hope my offer will tempt you enough so you say yes."

That sly little bastard. But you let out a long sigh.

"I appreciate it Deckard, I truly do, and I'm happy that you want to be a part of our daughter's life. But... it's not like... it's not like we were in a relationship or something. I don't think us moving in together would be a good idea. You are welcome to visit her anytime."

Deckard was rather taken aback, he thought you might jump into the opportunity.

"I understand." he said and he truly did. He was only hoping you would. "I will come visit tomorrow," he said as he headed for the door, you waved him goodbye.

That night, you couldn't sleep.

You kept thinking about what Deckard said. While living with him didn't sound terrible and you could use the help with Liv.

It was now your stubbornness and fear holding you back.

You loved Deckard too much. Which one could argue with, given how you ran away with a baby, but it was the truth.

You didn't want to disappoint him, you didn't want for him to live a life which he might regret later.

But you were ready to give him a chance, you were ready for him to decide what he wanted.

The next morning, he arrived early. You were in the middle of feeding when there was a knock.

"You are early," you said as you let him in. "I'm feeding her, wait here." he sat down on your couch, but after a minute, he couldn't sit any longer.

He walked to your room, and he found you, back to the door as you breastfed your daughter.

As if you felt his presence, you turned and saw him. His eyes never left you, and he started to walk into the room.

You felt exposed, but you didn't mind it. He ran his hand over Olivia's head. He sat down next to you on the bed.

"The doctor said babies are supposed to be chubby. She often said that Liv is very healthy. She will get her vaccines once I stop breastfeeding. But you see, I just have so much milk... The doctor said I can donate it. Which is like super weird to me, but she said some mother's can't produce milk so... oh sorry, you probably don't want to hear any of that."

"I want to know everything." you looked into his eyes, but he was watching Liv.

"Okay, ummm, she was born three weeks earlier than she should have. She spent time in the hospital after. But she is all good now. She loves the outdoors and animals. She is very interested. Dom once said he will buy a dog for her once she is old enough." Deckard made a face at that, the thought of another man giving things to his daughter, things he should.

"And how was the... birth?"

"Oh, terrible, thank you for asking. I had to drive to the hospital, it was awful, I was bleeding and in pain. I was... very scared." Deckard looked at you. "I thought I lost her." he could see the tears in your eyes.

"But you didn't." he said to comfort you.

"I didn't."

"I like her name, where did you get it from?"

"It was in a children's book that I got for her while I was pregnant. I really liked the name so... do you really like it?" he nodded. For that moment you felt at ease. You looked down at your daughter as Deckard pulled you closer to his side, arms moving around you as he pulled you to his chest, his head on your shoulder, he placed a kiss on your skin.

Soon, Olivia stopped eating and you grabbed a cloth. you made a face.

"Why are you in a suit?" you asked Deckard who looked down at his attire.

"I wanted to look good for my girls."

"Well, then get ready to have saliva all over it." you said as you placed the cloth on his shoulder, then you handed him Liv. "Wait until she burps, then place her into her bed, I'll make breakfast, I'm starving."

You weren't sure what just happened. The way he held you was so delicate.

You tried to tell yourself that he only did it for Liv, but he didn't.

You know he didn't.

You just finished breakfast when Deckard came to join you.

"She's sleeping." he said.

"I have this." you said as you handed him an album. "All of her ultrasound pictures, pictures a day after she was born are in there. It's the only one I have but if you want, you can keep one picture of her."

"I want you both to live with me. It would be the safest. I know what you said. And I cannot help but think about what would have happened if that day I left a note or never left at all. I keep thinking about it."

You stood up and headed to the living room when Deckard spoke up, making you stop in the hallway.

"It would have been different. But we will never know. We have to focus on now. You want us to live close to you, and I want you to have a relationship with her." he joined you in the hallway, standing so close you could barely think.

"The very first thing you told me is that I didn't want you so why would I want her, but Y/N, I wanted you for so long. Long before we even went to that race. Long before that night. I wanted you for so long now. I still want you. Not because of Olivia, but because of you. And how could I not want her? She is my daughter, our daughter." he took a step closer to you, closing the distance as his hand came to rest on your cheek.

"Deckard, I always had a huge crush on you. But... I'm done with this whole dancing around one another. You want us and we need you. Livie needs you, I need you. We will move to London." you saw his eyes shine as he leaned down to give you a kiss.

Finally, you two were together, finally, you had what you always wanted. Finally, your daughter had her father.

---

"A view of the Big Ben." you said as you stood in front of the window, looking out with your daughter on your hip.

"Yes, the view in this apartment is great, it is truly royal if I might say." the woman said as she joined you, but of course she would say these things, she had to sell the place.

The view was nice, but something about the windows made you feel exposed. Could be because they were from the floor up to the ceiling.

"What do you think?" Deckard joined you and the woman left to give you some time. You made a face and Deckard knew. "We looked at eight apartments, you didn't like any..."

"It's not that they are not good. It's just... off."

"Okay, then we will look until we find the one."

"Can we... maybe we could look at houses a bit out of London? Like a cottage?" he looked at you confused.

"Cottage?" then he realized perhaps you want a house similar to the one you had before you moved in with him. "Okay, I think I know what you want." he said as he turned to the lady.

---

Your eyes were shining from the moment you closed the car's door. You even forgot to get Olivia from the backseat, you felt like you were in a dream.

"Decks..."

"This house, while from the outside it is more traditional, on the inside it just had been renovated and renewed. It has solar panels built into the roof, it has a garden in the back as well as in the front. It is a bit more secluded but it does have neighbours. Come on in I will show you around." the lady continued the tour. "Fire bedrooms, two office rooms, a lovely spacious living room and a kitchen. The back garden might need a bit of terraforming but the space is given for any flowers or trees. Perfect place for your little one to run around and have her friends over for a birthday party perhaps."

You loved it, and Deckard knew you loved it.

"This is the one." you said when you finally looked at him, coming back from your dream. "Perfect for us and if we want more kids, we have the room. You can have a gym even and I can have an office to work from. This is just perfect, do you like it?"

Deckard smiled, deciding to not bring it up that you just in fact mentioned more children.

"I love it." he said and you didn't even waste time, you signed the papers.

---

One morning you sat out on the balcony, enjoying the morning sun as Deckard and Livie were asleep.

You truly loved this house. It was different from your previous house and Deckard's apartment, but at the same time, it looked like both.

You heard the door open and as you saw Deckard walk out with his coffee in hand you pointed at a part of the garden.

"I want to put a flowerbed there. And some hydrangeas over there."

"Sounds good to me."

"And we could get an inflatable pool for Livie, for the summer. I'm sure she will love it."

"Perfect." you looked at him as he smiled at you.

"What?" you asked.

"You look happy. It makes me happy."

"It's just... feels nice to be wanted."

"I think it's more need. Like you said Livie needs me, and I need the two of you." you reached out to him as he held your hand. "I love you."

"I love you too," you said as you caught a glimpse of the beautiful diamond on your finger.

He was all you ever wanted and needed.

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ellethespaceunicorn · 6 months

Text

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Two

Chapter Two: The Cabin in the Woods

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: You search the woods for the house you were taken to that night. It’s been hours and you’re lost. Your phone has no service, it is getting dark, and your dumbass didn’t tell anyone you were going on an adventure.

Warnings: mutual pining

A/N: A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. I really hope y’all enjoy this one. It was a tough one to write, Walter was so feisty!

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Cover Art by me

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When you arrived at the hospital, you had another nurse and colleague check out your head injury on your next shift. Armed with a clean bill of health and a brain bursting with unanswered questions, you try to go about your day.

The entirety of your workday was spent having coworkers break you out of a trance. Every few minutes, you’d gaze off into nothingness until those around you noticed and snapped their fingers in front of your face. You kept thinking about the wolf and Walter, trying to piece the two together.

After work, you change your clothes and put on your hiking boots. Even though the drive from the cabin to Liv’s house was short, that was in a vehicle. On foot, you will need to cover a lot of ground. You decided against driving your car down the road that splits the forest.

If you parked at the entrance to the forest near the park grounds, you could easily sneak back to your car and bypass the curfew checkpoint at the tree line. Not that you planned on being out until nightfall.

Parking your car in the gravel-filled lot, you tighten your scarf around your neck and start your journey into the woods. Walking takes you about ten minutes to get to the clearing where you and Olivia enjoyed wine coolers. It didn’t seem like it took you this long to get to the clearing a couple of days ago, but you don’t stay long enough to dwell on it.

Retracing your steps, you walk for another few minutes in search of the tree with the giant roots jutting out from the forest floor. After ten minutes of wandering, you think about giving up because daylight is in short supply. Looking down at your phone, you curse when you see the battery percentage looking back at you. Eleven percent wouldn’t get you far should you need to make an urgent call or use the flashlight since you forgot to bring one.

After another few minutes of traipsing through the forest, you trip over a large root and accidentally find your tree. Following the roots, you find the little alcove that you had planned to hide in during your game with Liv. You notice the setting sun as you turn to sit on the higher roots.

Taking out your phone, you realize that it had shut off due to low power. Shoving it back in your pocket, you stand up and wipe a hand down your face. You’re pissed off, cold, and now have no way to contact anyone should you need to. Anger boils your blood as you stand in the now-dark forest.

Pacing for a few seconds doesn’t calm you down. You start to hear all the little nocturnal animals coming alive and usually, you would find this peaceful. However, you would give anything to hear a certain howl. But it’s just crickets, frogs, and owls out tonight.

You don’t know what else to do but…

“Fuck. Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuuck!” You scream out into the void, it would seem.

Until you hear a response in the form of a huff behind you.

When you turn around, you're only a little surprised to see the same wolf from before walking toward you. You stand still until it stops about a foot from you. You look down and study its paws, large enough to rip your throat out. But the wolf just sits down as a dog would and looks up at you before yawning, showing off its sharp teeth and long dusty-mauve tongue.

If this were a dog, you would have reached out a hand to pet it. But the sheer size of it was enough to keep your hands to yourself. You didn't have to think about that for long before the wolf was back on all fours walking around you and nudging at your leg as it started to walk away. It doesn't make it far before it turns around to look at you.

"Oh, am I supposed to follow you or something?" You feel silly asking the wolf a question, but only less so when it huffs in response, "Okay. Following a wolf wasn't on the itinerary. But it isn't attacking me so whatever," You finish, mostly to yourself.

Following the wolf, you notice you are going in a completely different direction through the forest. Of course, the last time you were here was an inebriated adventure but you could've sworn you would go right instead of left. Either way, you're putting your faith in a four-legged carnivore so you stop thinking about what should or shouldn't be happening.

A light in the distance can be seen through the trees and once you reach it, you find yourself in front of a medium-sized cabin. There is a light at the little fence encircling the property. The black Ford F-150 that Walter drove is parked to the side in the driveway. You have to admit you didn't expect to see this place look so...normal. It almost looks quaint.

You shuffle on your feet and are suddenly too nervous to propel you forward. Whining at your side reminds you that you aren't alone. You absentmindedly reach your hand out to stroke the wolf's fur. Thick, coarse fur slides through your fingers. Glowing, yellow eyes look into yours and your fear starts to dissipate. The wolf licks at your hand and then takes off around the back of the cabin.

You think about shouting after it or running after it, but instead, you walk up to the fencing. You could swear you hear a door being closed in the back of the cabin, but you can't be sure and you don't want to snoop. Opening the latch to the gate, you walk through the front yard dragging your feet. Your fight or flight response makes an appearance when you hear movement in the house.

'It's now or never,' you think, raising your hand to knock on the door.

Three sharp knocks and you shove your hands in your pockets, waiting for the door to be opened. You jump at the sound of something crashing to the ground and soon the light above the door is turned on. You hold up a hand over your eyes as the harsh fluorescent beams down on you in the dark of night. The door is opened and you take your hand down to see Walter standing there. You’re once again under the spell of him.

He stands tall at about 6’1", and his hair is a disheveled mess but it only adds to the sex appeal. His brows are scrunched together and it doesn’t look like he needs you at his doorstep right now by the scowl across his pretty pink lips. He’s shirtless, sweaty, breathing hard, and smells like a wet dog. The denim shorts he wears are tattered at the ends and his defined calves are on display. His bare feet are a bit dirty as if he’s been running barefoot.

Your eyes shoot back up to his, a faint glow makes his blue eyes look almost golden. He blinks a few times and the glow is gone, aquamarine replaces gold.

You run through a mental checklist. Wet dog smell, check. Frayed shorts that were probably thrown on in a hurry, check. Golden eyes, check. You feel so stupid thinking about the last item. Walter’s hair color is the same as the wolf that brought you here.

“Are you going to come in or are you going to just stare at me like I’m a–”

“Werewolf?” You blurt out, cutting off Walter’s sentence.

“Just come in, and I can explain everything,” He opens the door and steps aside to let you in, but you don’t move, “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Please come in?”

His sincere tone and pleading eyes get the better of you. You sigh, chewing the inside of your cheek. Walking in, you step just inside the living room, giving Walter enough space to close the door behind you. You notice a side table knocked over, a lamp, and small knickknacks on the floor next to it. You turn back to look at him and his face is that of a kicked puppy.

Of course, it is.

“Look, I didn’t–”

“As much as I want to have this conversation right now, I can’t get over how much you smell. I’m gonna need you to take care of that ASAP. Go get clean and I’ll tidy up. And where is the kitchen? I need coffee if I’m gonna have this conversation sober.” You say, taking off your coat and laying on the back of the couch.

Walter walks you to the kitchen and watches as you busy yourself with the coffee maker. You tell him politely to get out of his kitchen and go shower. He opens his mouth to talk but closes it when he sees your eyebrows raise and your hand go to your hip. He simply nods and walks away. You hear him walk up the stairs and soon the faint sound of a shower being turned on before a door is closed.

You fill the coffee maker with grounds and water, setting it then make your way to the living room. Picking up the end table, you turn it right side up and set it on its legs. You bend down to pick up the figurines from the floor. You’re not surprised when they turn out to be two wolves, the larger one made of light wood and the smaller wolf a dark mahogany.

You hear the coffee maker sputtering and go in to check on it. Pulling out two mugs from their spot in the corner cabinet, you fill one and leave one for Walter, not sure if he even wants coffee so late at night. Did werewolves even drink coffee?

So, that’s it. You’re just entertaining the idea that werewolves not only exist but that you’re in a cabin with one. In the back of your mind, your grandfather’s tale of the Claw Creek creature demands attention. You were going over it when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

You bring your mug to your mouth to take a sip when Walter appears in the doorway, just as beautiful as when you saw him for the first time. His wet hair curls around his ears. He’s wearing a tighter-than-necessary heather gray henley, the front of it holding onto his pecs for dear life while the sleeves are pulled up to show off muscular forearms. A pair of jeans hug his meaty legs and boots cover his feet.

“You stare a lot.” His words break you out of your ogling and you finally pull down the mug from your lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Wolfie,” you comment, suddenly hyperaware that you may have just said something rude.

Walter’s chuckle surprises you, and you’re put at ease, “Wolfie?” He challenges, walking toward you.

You shrug your shoulders and stand your ground, looking up at him as he stops in front of you. He nods to the coffee maker and you step back to let him make a cup for himself. He takes a sip and hums at the flavor. He turns to ask you about it and you answer before he can open his mouth.

“Cinnamon. Just a few shakes and it takes away the sharp bitterness. Now, if you’re done talking about coffee, can we talk about how you can turn into a wolf?” Your frustration peeks through and Walter nods, leading you back into the living room.

Once you get to the couch, you set down your coffee on the table in front of you and turn to face Walter. He takes the cue and starts to speak.

“So, what do you want to know? Do you want me to go through my entire lifetime? It’s quite long, so far. Or start where I was attacked and bitten by someone I thought was a friend? Should I dispel werewolf myths about uncontrollable shifting during the full moon?” He rambles on, probably trying to confuse you or overwhelm you.

Luckily, you’re already overwhelmed so his attempt is in vain.

“I have a couple of questions. The first one is: Do you eat people? The second one is: Could you follow my scent to find me?” you offer, pulling your leg up to sit on it while leaning against the back of the couch.

“I don’t eat people. I don’t think Werewolves as a whole, ever eat people. Attack? Sure. But no, I don’t crave human flesh,” he pauses, looking down at his hands, “How’d you know about the scent thing?” He’s suddenly super interested in his fingernails.

“I didn’t know about the scent thing. You just confirmed a hunch, is all,” You reach for your mug, bringing it closer to your lips before taking a sip, “One more question and I’ll release you from the hot seat. Are you safe out here? Like, I mean, with the animal mutilations in the town, they were talking about sending hunters out to look for whatever was doing it.”

“That wasn’t me, just so you know. I’m safe out here. I actually live in town, I just come here to shift and get some time away. No one comes out this way. This used to be an abandoned shack, but I fixed it up over the past years. Got electricity going and made it...wait. You care if I’m safe out here?” he presses, a toothy grin showing off his sharp canines.

“You saved my life, I can’t care about your wellbeing? I’m being nice, don’t push it, Wolfie,” you snap, a little harsher than you meant to. You did feel lied to, but he was being honest with you. You shake your head before insisting, “I’m sorry, I just...this is a lot. And I need you to know that I was really pissed off with you in the beginning, but I know why you didn’t tell me. Safety and all that. Maybe you can drive me back to my car so I can start the drive back home?” You were cut off by an intense yawn that came out of nowhere.

“Speaking of safety, you look like you’re ready to fall over. You’ve had all of about two sips of coffee and that yawn almost unhinged your jaw a bit there. Just, I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re tired behind the wheel,” he admits, turning concerned eyes on you.

“You know, as a wolf, using puppy dog eyes on me should be considered unfair. And how do I know this is not some elaborate excuse to get me into your bed so you can have your way with me, huh?” you huff, squinting at him as his eyes glimmer in the low light of the room.

“Do you want me to have my way with you?” he leans back, head over his shoulder, and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Your hand flies out to slap his bicep. You figure that was easier than giving him the answer that was on the tip of your tongue.

He rolls his eyes and gets up from the couch, pointing to your coffee cup in your hand and motioning for you to give it to him. He takes both of your unfinished cups to the kitchen and when he comes back, he heads for the stairs. “You coming, pup?”

“Pup? Is that because I called you Wolfie?” You stand up from the couch, tilting your head at him before walking to follow him up the steps.

“I don’t know, give me time and I’ll think of something better.” He winks at you and smiles when you duck your head.

Once Walter shows you to his bedroom, you don’t hide your urge to look over everything in the room while he leans against the open door. You almost get upset when you see that his bedspread isn’t a large picture of a wolf’s face. Somehow you thought it would just fit in with his vibe. But the midnight blue damask comforter that covers the bed is actually way more fitting.

“Wait, where are you gonna sleep if I sleep in here?” You question as you sit on the bed and take off your boots.

“I figured I would sleep on the couch. I don’t need much sleep anyway. Unless that was an invitation…?” he smirks and is surprised when you look to be thinking it over.

“Can you stay in here ‘til I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.” you confess, looking everywhere but who you were talking to. You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you also know you won’t sleep in a bed that’s not yours all by your lonesome.

“Are you alright? I mean, of course, you’re not. What am I saying?” he rambles, coming into the room fully and hunching his shoulders so he can seem less intimidating.

Walter walks over to the bed, pulls back the bedspread, and motions for you to crawl under the covers. Once you are comfortable, he turns on a low light on his dresser and turns off the overhead light of the room. Coming back to the bed, he sits at the edge and toes off his boots before you pull him to lie down next to you.

Turning to face him as he lays on his back, you stare at his face as he looks up at the ceiling. You’re interlacing your fingers so that you don’t reach out and trace his jawline when a thought pops into your head.

“When’s the last time you had a woman in your bed?” You breathe, mentally kicking yourself for not thinking longer before you voice your thoughts.

“It’s been a while. Years. I don’t really...mingle much.” He murmurs, eyes never moving from one particular spot.

You refuse to acknowledge the “lone wolf” analogy, instead, you steady yourself before putting a hand on his. “Thank you for saving me, Walter. Goodnight.” Taking your hand back, you close your eyes and let tiredness take its course.

“You’re welcome.” His soft voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s the last thing you hear before you’re fully asleep.

To be continued…

A/N: Wow, you mean to tell me I got these two folks in bed together and they’re both dressed still? What?! Don’t hate me!

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

all hers, part iv

summary: when someone touches you inappropriately at a party, Ghostface!Tara remerges.

warnings: dark themes, murder, non-consensual kissing/groping of reader (not by Tara, from another character) - if this is triggering for you, please skip this chapter.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this part is a little bit of a break from the smut, more hurt/comfort, but don’t worry, the smut will be back for the next chapter. Let me know your thoughts and what you would like to see next.

It was the same every weekend: Amber, Tara’s best friend, would wait until her Dad left town, then phone up half the school for a Saturday night rager. Tara took you every weekend. It was the only real time the two of you would jump out of your love bubble, besides when you were in school. It was kind of nice to get out, get drunk and have a dance.

The only downside? Having to hang out with Tara’s friends.

Mindy and Wes were okay, but Chad was a fuckboy, Liv was a drama queen and Amber was a straight up bitch. You weren’t really sure why Tara was still friends with any of them, considering how little they all had in common. When you’d asked, Tara had just shrugged and said they’d been friends forever, since elementary school. So you put up with them for her, swallow your distaste for them with a red cup full of beer. At least the beer was free.

You almost spill it over yourself as you lean over the couch, placing Tara’s cup on the table next to her. You drink out of your own cup, settle down onto the couch next to her. The party is in full swing, but as usual Tara and her friends claim the living room, passing around a half-lit joint as they talk amongst themselves.

Tara leans into you. Presses a kiss to your cheeks.

“You look so hot in that new skirt, baby.” She murmurs into your ear. You smile, press a quick kiss to her lips. She’d taken you shopping that afternoon, and the moment she’d seen it on you she’d insisted on buying it. Her fingers skim across your thighs under the material, rub the soft skin there.

“Thanks, babe.” You say. She reaches for you, grabs you gently by the waist, trying to tug you into her lap. You shift your weight onto her, wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her, deep.

The sound of Amber tutting breaks you apart.

“You two are nauseating.” She sneers, “Can’t you go five minutes without being on top of each other?”

“I think they’re sweet.” Liv coos from the other side of the room. She’s draped over Chad, her boyfriend, who’s mostly ignoring her in favor of watching sports on his phone. “I wish Chad wanted me on his lap all the time.”

“You’re too heavy.” Chad says, mindlessly. Liv smacks him.

“You’re just jealous no one wants you in their lap, Amber.” Tara says. She rubs her hands over the tops of your thighs, skimming your underwear, not bothering to hide it.

Amber rolls her eyes.

“Please. I could pull half of this room. Guys and girls alike.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Go on then.” You challenge. You scan the room quickly. Point out a broad shouldered jock. “What about him?”

She grimaces. “Too dumb.”

Your eyes fall on a slim blonde girl, you point her out.

“Too skinny.”

“Wes is single.” Mindy pipes up. Chad sniggers.

“Ew. Too dorky.”

Amber looks at you, suddenly. Her eyes narrow as she drops her beer to the table. She stands, moves in close so she’s hovering over you.

“Maybe I’ll just take you.” She says, voice low. Smirk on her lips, “See what all the fuss is about. Figure out why Tara’s so obsessed with you.”

You feel Tara’s hands tighten around your waist.

“Why don’t you try and see what happens?” Tara says. Her eyes are hard, voice serious. Mindy and Wes stare. Even Chad looks up from his phone. Amber smiles.

“Down girl.” She laughs. She backs away, picks up her drink, “She’s not my type anyway. I don’t do good girls.”

Tara’s still rigid against you as Amber wanders off, no doubt to harass some poor freshman into doing another beer run. You lean back into her, press a warm kiss to her lips. “Love you.” You say, quiet enough so the others can’t hear, “Don’t let her under your skin.”

And she relaxes. Smiles slightly, tilts her head up to meet your lips.

The party continues. You watch as Mindy and Chad argue about the rules of beer-pong. Wes comes over at some point, engrosses Tara in a thirty minute conversation about some horror film they’d seen together. You scoot yourself off her lap, leaving her with a quick kiss. She looks up at you, questioning.

“Need to pee.” You assure. She nods, goes back to her conversation.

You move through the sea of bodies, manage to find a line that isn’t too long down in the hallway bathroom. Alcohol thrums pleasantly through you. You feel light, carefree. That might be the weed.

When it’s your turn, you open the door and go inside, only to be stopped by a foot in the door.

It’s Amber. You blink as she nudges her way into the bathroom, locks the door behind her.

“What are you doing?” You ask. She shrugs, turns to the mirror.

“I need to pee. It’s my house, I’m not waiting in line.”

You stare at her for a moment. She brushes lipgloss over her lips. This is weird. You don’t want to be here any more.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll leave you to it.”

She moves in front of the door, blocks your exit.

“You look really pretty tonight.” She says. Voice syrupy sweet. “That skirt is- wow.” Her eyes rake down your bare thighs. You cross your arms, self conscious.

“Thanks.” You say. “Tara bought it for me.”

“I can see why.” Amber says. She leans a little close. “If you were my girlfriend, I’d make you wear slutty little outfits like that too. Easy access, right?”

You take a step back.

“She doesn’t make me wear anything.” Is the only thing you can think to say.

“So you’re trying to tease her?” Amber asks, her eyes flashing, “Is that it? Get her all horned up for you so she’ll take you into a bathroom and fuck the life out of you?”

“I should go.”

This time you try and push past her. It’s a mistake, you realize all at once. Amber’s hands grip your shoulders, and now your faces are inches apart.

“I don’t see Tara anywhere. But I’m here now. I’ll fuck you better than she ever could.”

Before you can protest, she’s surging forward, taking your lips in a rough kiss.

You try to jerk away but your hands grip your face, holding you tight onto her. You struggle, hard, finally prying yourself away from her.

“Hey!” You slap her off but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you against the bathroom counter, sending toiletries flying to the floor. You grunt in pain as your back hits the counter. Before you can recover, she’s close again. Hands under your skirt, groping.

“Don’t be such a fucking tease.” She growls. “You’ve been walking around half naked all night and you’re trying to tell me you don’t want it?”

“Not from you.” You say. You shove her off, hard as you can. She stumbles back. It’s the chance you need. You surge towards the door, fumbling with the handle. Before you can pry it open, she’s back, pressing her hand against the door.

“Hey.” Her voice suddenly soft. Sweet. “I’m sorry. We got off on the wrong foot. How about we sit down. Get to know each other?”

“Fuck you.”

You tug the door. She jams her foot in the way.

“Tara won’t believe you.” She says, voice hard, “I’m her best friend. You’re just some slut she’s been fucking for less than a year.”

“Two years.” You tell her. “Get out of my way.”

She stares at you for a long moment. For a second, you think she might hit you.

“Fine. Fucking prude.” She sneers, backing off. “I didn’t want you anyway.”

You’re shaking when you go back downstairs. Tears spill down your cheeks, your lips still sting with the force of Amber’s unwanted kiss. She’s ripped your skirt, you hold it together with your hands as you make an escape for the back door.

It’s quieter outside, only a few people lingering. You head to the bottom of the garden, stand against the fence.

Your lip trembles. You’re wearing Tara’s jacket, pull it tight around your shoulders. You take a breath. Try and still yourself. Tara will be looking for you soon. If she finds you like this, eyes wet and sniffling, she’ll know something is wrong. She’ll know what Amber tried to do.

Tara’s going to kill her, you realize with a jolt. Not figuratively. She will literally kill her. Tonight, maybe. A fresh wave of tears spill from your eyes.

You catch your breath. Steady your breathing. It’s not ten minutes before you hear the crunch of shoes on the grass behind you, and someone’s hands looping around your waist.

“There she is.” Tara’s voice jolts you out of your reverie. She presses her lips to your shoulder, “My sweet girl.”

You lean back into her. Sniff back your tears. She can’t see your face from this angle. You blink away your tears.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.” She asks, as she rubs your arms. She smells familiar, like vanilla and cinnamon. You breathe her in, instantly comforted. You close your eyes, turn yourself in her arms. Nestle yourself into her neck. Her lips press to the top of your head.

“Here.” You only half lie. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Nothing.” You mumble into her neck.

She hums against you.

“Should we go home?” She wonders, “It’s getting a bit sad in there.”

You tilt your head back to look at the house.

It’s emptying out. You nod. Stand up properly. You tilt your head slightly away from her, hoping she’ll miss your puffy cheeks. She doesn’t. Her hands catch your waist, tilting your face to her.

Her brow furrows.

“You’ve been crying.” She says, voice soft.

You gulp. She has you, there’s no point in lying.

“A little.”

“Why?”

You could try to lie. Save Amber’s pathetic ass. But you know there’s no point. Tara knows you inside and out. She can read your every mood. Hunt out any little white lie. She knows you off by heart.

“Someone tried to kiss me.” You hesitate. “She did kiss me. But I didn’t-” You can feel the tears pricking up once more. “I didn’t want it.”

Tara blinks. Her hands on your waist tighten their grip.

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.” Tara says through gritted teeth. “Tell me. Now.”

“Tara-“

“Baby, if you don’t tell me who it is I’m going to take my knife and slit the throat of every girl in that house.”

You swallow hard. She isn’t kidding, you can see it in her eyes.

“Amber.”

Her eyes flash, but not with anger. Something else. Hurt, maybe, betrayal. Her jaw clenches. You put your hands on her forearms, try to bring her back to you.

“Tara. Baby. It’s okay-”

You can see the fight behind her eyes.

“I knew she’d try something like this.” She says, sounding aggravated, “Bitch. She’s always wanted my things, even when we were kids.”

Tara looks back to the house. Steadies her grip on your shoulders. Her hands cup your cheek, wiping away your tears. Her gaze drops a little lower, lingering on your ripped skirt.

“What happened to your skirt?” She asks. You swallow hard. “Did she do that?”

You hesitate. She leans in, presses a reassuring kiss to your lips.

“Tell me exactly what happened.” She says as she pulls away, voice quiet, “Every detail.”

And you do. She listens, a quiet storm brewing behind her eyes. When you’re finished, she takes you in her arms, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” She murmurs. “I never should have left you alone.”

You sway in her arms for a moment, before she’s retracting, pulling her phone from her pocket.

“I’m going to call Sam.” She says, pressing her lips to your cheek. “She’s going to take you home.”

Your heart sinks.

“No.” You say, “Tara, no. I want you to come home with me. I don’t want Sam-”

“I’ll be home as soon as I’m done.” She says, strokes your face reassuringly. She’s calm. Too calm. It sends a chill down your spine. You grip onto her arms.

“Tara, no. You promised.”

She looks at you, a little frustrated.

“Sweetheart. She put her hands on you. She hurt you. She made you cry.” She cups your cheek, tenderly. Brushes away the fresh tears that trickle down your face, “Don’t you see? That’s why she has to die.”

You shake your head, fervently.

“No. That isn’t what I want. I don’t want you to kill for me, Tara. That isn’t what I need. I just need my girlfriend to hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay, and that I’m safe with her.”

She’s pulling you back into her arms. Cradles you tightly.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” She promises. You bury your face in her chest, comforted by her scent. “I love you. I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”

“You’re not going to kill her.” You say into her chest, “Promise me.”

“Baby-”

“Promise me, Tara.”

You’re pulling away from her, looking into her eyes.

“I can’t lose you,” You say, cupping her cheeks. Your eyes are glistening with tears again. You grip onto her so tight, trying to make her understand. “Everytime you put on that mask you risk getting caught. And then they’ll take you away from me.”

“Oh, baby.” She says, “Is that what you’re worried about?”

It is what you worried about, more than anything. Sometimes you’d have nightmares about it: Tara, being dragged away in handcuffs, locked in a cell while they threw away the key. You nod.

“No-one will ever keep you from me.” She promises. She looks so pretty in the moonlight. Soft brown eyes stare back at you adoringly, almost as if she’s not trying to negotiate murder, “I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes I can.” She says. Her lips press to yours, insistent.

She takes your hand, presses it to her chest.

“You feel that?” She murmurs. Her heartbeat is wild, erratic. You press your fingertips to her chest, trying to soothe her. It doesn’t work. “That’s what happens when someone tries to take you from me. It doesn’t feel good, baby. It hurts me. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Do you know what it feels like to have your heart racing 24/7?”

You blink up at her. Shake your head.

“There’s only one thing that can stop it.” She murmurs. “I know you don’t like Ghostface. But sometimes she’s the only thing that can make me feel sane again. Everytime you ask me to stop, I have to fight this storm in me. Fight my instincts. I don’t know how much longer I can fight, baby.”

Her hands are shaking, you notice for the first time.

You rub her arm with your hand. Duck down, press your lips to her chest. Close your eyes.

“So, I’m going to call Sam, okay?” She’s asking now. Her eyes pleading. “She’s going to take you home.”

Your heart jumps in your throat.

Slowly, you nod.

Relief fills her face. She grips onto you, squeezes you tight.

“Be careful.” You murmur, “Please, baby, be careful for me.”

She kisses you, soft.

The next hour is like a fever dream. Tara puts you into Sam’s car, kisses you goodbye.

Sam’s still trying to make up for lost time with her sister so she doesn’t ask too many questions. The drive home is almost silent, you staring out the window, imagining the tilt of Tara’s knife slitting Amber’s throat. All you can think about is her getting caught. Praying she was careful enough not to leave behind any evidence. Maybe it should worry you how little you care about someone dying. But it doesn’t.

You climb into Tara’s bed alone, waiting for her. You stare at the ceiling. Minutes pass by agonizingly slow. All you can do is wait.

Finally, after what must have been hours, you hear her come in the front door. You sit up, chewing your lip, anxious as you hear the shower run.

When she opens the bedroom door, she’s dressed for bed.

She climbs into bed with you. Wraps her arms around your waist. You turn in her arms, immediately. Press your hand to her chest. Her heartbeat is steady, normal. She’s calm. You relax.

“She’s never going to touch you again.” Tara murmurs. She presses a tender kiss to your forehead. You don’t want to know. You burrow yourself as tight as you can in her arms. Focus on her steady heartbeat.

“I promise.”

Next part

#scream #ghostface!tara #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #mine #ah #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

1K notes · View notes

jesterwriting · 6 months

Note

jesterrr!!! my lovey dovey!! congrats on 200 !!

for the event, i was thinking perhaps ace + cowboy casanova would be a good match… heheh 🤠 no specifics in mind; do whatever you’d like!

i hope you have tons of fun with this event! ♥️

pairings: cowboy!ace x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k words

contents: cowboy ace, saloon worker reader, riding under the stars, fluff, flirting, ace is a sweetheart, first kiss, ace has a southern accent and so do you, nicknames used: sugar, sweetheart, darlin’

note: HAAAAIII LIV THANK YOU SO MUCH <33 i had so much fun with this request. i didnt know how badly i needed ace with a southern accent before i started writing this but zoo wee mama…. hes so…. hehe. i hope you enjoy reading this! <33 thank you so much for the request :3

playlist: cowboy casanova - carrie underwood

“He’s a good time Cowboy Casanova, leanin’ up against the record machine.”

done for the 200 followers event!!

The sun was down and the saloon was full. Your feet ached in your boots as you carried another round of drinks to a nearby table, offering a sweet smile and a nod to the folks sitting around it. The night was young, and you were already exhausted with the sudden influx of guests. You didn’t know why your dingy little town was so busy, considering it didn’t have much besides a ranch or two to its name, but it was flooded nonetheless.

Whiskey flowed like water here. You were nothing but a provider to the poor parched souls who wound up on your doorstep.

It had been a year since you started working at Dusty’s Saloon, aptly named for the dust that usually settled itself along the bar, and not once had it ever been so hectic. Of course, there was a fight every so often. You couldn’t mix men and beer without one brewing at least once a week. This, though? This was brand new. You caught sight of a few folks brandishing an emblem you didn’t recognize, either around their necks, on their belt buckle, or most surprisingly, tattooed on their body. Delia, your more privy coworker, would probably know what it meant. You would ask her if you had a second to yourself, but considering how the night was going, you doubted you would be able to.

“And here you are.” You set your final two tankards down on a table, meeting their thankful grins with one of your own, before you settled behind the bar. There was a short lull in your workload. Your boss was busy in the back, likely smoking, and you took the opportunity to take a short breather without one of his sharp reprimands.

If you got time to lean, you got time to clean, he’d say. If you ever heard that bullshit again, you’d show him what for, you swore on it. With a sigh, you started cleaning one of the glasses.

“Now, what’s got a pretty young thing like you lookin’ so down?”

You jumped, nearly dropping the rag you were working with. There, leaning against the counter, stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. His hair was black, deep black. The kind that looked inky under the light, styled short in the front and long in the back. He wore a tasseled vest, the musculature of his arms on display for all to see. You must have been staring because he flexed a little, his biceps bulging. When your eyes found his face, you were stunned by the constellations of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the friendly smile that adorned his lips.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He cocked his head to the side.

It was embarrassing that you were so easy to read. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes and gestured to the spirits behind you. “What’ll you have?”

“Don’t be like that, sugar, I was only sayin’ hi.” The man put his hands up in fake surrender, a playful gleam in his eyes. The spurs of his boots jingled when he readjusted himself against the bar.

“If you were just sayin’ hi, you’d be gone already.” You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. He was cute and he knew it, that was the most dangerous kind of man. Lucky for him, you didn’t mind a little danger.

He ignored you and tipped the brim of his hat. “Name’s Ace.” When he was met with silence and crossed arms, he continued, “Normally, this is where you give me your name.”

“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it.”

Eyes still sparkling, Ace grinned. “Well, fair’s fair. I tried. Have a good night. Come find me if you change your mind, alright, sugar?”

“I won’t,” You called back, knowing it was a lie. He must’ve known too, because he shot you a wink before settling at a far table to sip on his drink. Cocky bastard.

It wasn’t until you started cleaning a glass did you realize a smile had split your face right in two. You felt your face warm. Too easy to read, indeed. Ace probably knew you were putty in his hands from the first hello.

You heard a whisper of your voice from the backroom. Delia was looking at you from the crack in the door, hurriedly gesturing you over. Fond, you rolled your eyes and tucked your rag into your belt loop.

“”What d’ya need, Delia?”

Before you could blink, she pulled you into the room by your lapels. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight in the back, and another second to register that your friend was looking at you with a mix of fear and disbelief.

“What do you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to Fire Fist Ace?” Delia whisper-yelled.

You blinked a few times before gently unclenching her fingers from your jacket. “Fire Fist who? Honey, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Grabbing the back of your head, she focused your attention on the man who was pestering you at the bar. He had fallen asleep in his chair. A smile wormed its way onto your face at the sight.

“Him! Fire Fist Ace, one of Whitebeard’s boys. You don’t mess around with one of his,” She exclaimed.

“Whitebeard’s boys? I thought they were two towns over.”

“No, dummy, they’re right here in our town stirrin’ up all sorts of nonsense.” Delia turned you by your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye. “Listen to me now, Y/N, you don’t mess around with Fire Fist Ace. Girls, boys, anyone, he’ll go for ‘em all and he’ll use you and leave you out to dry. That’s what I hear.”

“Yeah, well you hear all sorts of stuff. Not all of it’s true.”

You tried not to flinch when Delia gasped so loud, a few heads turned in your direction. “Do not tell me you’re thinkin’ of foolin’ around with that boy.”

With a sheepish grin, you ducked out of her hold and spun back out to the bar. “No promises, Delia.”

Ignoring her scandalized expression, you found yourself waiting tables again. When you found yourself near Ace’s table, you set a cup of fine whiskey at his side. The chilled glass met his skin, waking him with a start.

“Oh, it’s just you, sugar,” He drawled. Ace looked down at the whiskey, smile still in place. “I didn’t order this.”

“The name’s Y/N, and it’s on the house.”

His index finger trailed circles along the rim of the glass as he stared up at you. “Pretty name for a pretty little thing like you. I like it.”

You snickered, “Didn’t ask if you liked it, though I can’t say I’m not flattered”

“Why don’t you come ridin’ with me tonight?” A few of the men at nearby tables snorted and you were reminded of his reputation. Did you really want to get involved with someone who’d only break your heart? To your surprise, the answer felt obvious. You cocked your hip to the side and gave him a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, cowboy.”

The grin that bloomed across his face was boyish and sweet. “Darlin’, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

—

It was late by the time you finished cleaning up. The crowd had left, likely back to Whitebeard’s camp, wherever that was. Delia left an hour ago, but not before giving you a disappointed frown. Fine, she could be disappointed all she wanted. You were ready for the whirlwind romance you’d been denied your whole life. You were young, it was time to take a chance, and if that chance was on a cowboy you met a few hours ago, so be it.

Said cowboy was asleep in his chair with his hat over his eyes. A bit of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth and onto his vest. Now that the bar wasn’t blocking you from his lower half, you noticed his belt buckle sported the same emblem as the other patrons. He was one of Whitebeard’s boys, that was for sure. A bit of trepidation swirled in your chest, easily snuffed out when you remembered how kind he’d been all night. Here's to hoping your gut was right, and Ace was the gentleman you believed him to be.

You gave him a gentle shake. Ace snorted before cracking an eye open and taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Mornin’, sugar.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” You laughed.

“‘S mornin’ somewhere,'' He slurred, still half-asleep.

Giggling, you poked his cheek. “C’mon, wake up. What about that ride, cowboy?”

That got his attention. Ace perked up like a dog that just heard the word ‘treat.’ His hat was skewed, and he adjusted it with one hand, the other wrapping around your shoulders to lead you out the door. “You’re gonna have the time of your life, sugar, I can promise you that.”

You clenched your fists to keep your nerves at bay. This was so unlike you, going off with a stranger in the dead of night. Ace seemed to notice your anxiety and gave you a squeeze, body warm against your own. It was comforting. You sighed, leaning into his embrace as you approached his horse. It had a beautiful brown coat, the same color as his eyes, and black mane, almost matching his own. Once, Delia had joked that all cowboys resembled their horses. It wasn’t until you were staring at Ace under the starlight did you start to believe something so ridiculous.

You doubted he’d consider it a compliment if you compared him to a horse, so you held your tongue.

His horse whinnied when she saw you. Ace placed a comforting hand on the side of her neck, smoothing out her fur. “Hush, girl. Don’t you worry now, they’re sweet like you.”

You slid next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. “You never know, I could be gettin’ you alone just to kill you.”

Ace snickered, “Wouldn’t be the first, wouldn’t be the last, but you would be the prettiest.”

“Oh, quiet now.” A flush heated your cheeks as you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

He seemed proud of himself for flustering you. With a practiced ease, Ace hefted himself into the saddle and scooted up so there was room for you. Patting the seat, he gave you a grin. “Need a hand, sugar?”

You had never ridden a horse before, you weren’t above admitting it. Sighing, you took his hand and tried not to think about how easily he lifted you with one arm, even with your foot in the stirrup. Once you were in the saddle, you wrapped your arms around Ace’s waist to steady yourself. He gave your thigh a final pat, then let out a loud yip, and the horse was off.

Without permission, a laugh bubbled out of your throat. You squeezed Ace, anxiety mixing with pure, unadulterated joy as the wind whipped your hair. Stars glittered overhead, the full moon casting the landscape in a silver glow. Ace was warm, and the night air was cold. Unable to stand the chill, you buried your face between his shoulder blades, ignoring the rumble of a chuckle that shook his entire body.

“Havin’ fun back there?” A bit of genuine concern leaked into his tone. “Need me to slow down?”

You wondered if he could feel your body shaking. Not from fear, but from excitement.

“Faster!” You cried.

Ace whooped, “Yeehaw!”

Laughing at the cliche, you felt your stomach drop as his horse picked up speed, dashing out of town and into the plains. The sound of hooves on hard ground echoed in your head. Adrenaline sang in your veins, making you dizzy and desperate for more. The two of you rode like this for a while before the horse slowed to a canter with an easy pull of her reins and a click of Ace’s tongue.

“Where are we?”

Ace looked back, excitement evident on his face. “Took you somewhere special to look at the stars.”

At his words, you looked up to see the entire night sky open in front of you. Countless clusters of stars formed webs, intertwining with one another in a sea of purple and blue. There were no clouds to block the view, it was a perfectly clear night, save for a few wisps here and there. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

Ace slid off the saddle and offered you his hand. “Hey. No peekin’”

“How can I not? It’s beautiful.”

Unlike before when he only pulled you by your arm into the saddle, Ace’s hands gently gripped you by the waist and lifted you with an ease you weren’t expecting. You were no waif, but he was deceptively strong. He looked down at you with soft eyes, smoothing out a few strands of wind blown hair with his palm.

“You’re beautiful, sugar.”

“Why do you keep calling me that if you know my name?”

His eyes flickered to your lips. “‘Cause you’re sweet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been mouthy all damn night.”

“A man can dream.”

With that, he kissed you, lips pressed softly against yours. He tasted like whiskey and he smelled like a hearth. Cozy and warm, like home. To your surprise, the kiss was chaste, over almost as soon as it began. Ace’s cheeks were bright red when he looked down at you.

“I heard you were a real casanova, surely you can kiss better than that,” You teased the already flustered man.

Ace’s blush darkened. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Around.”

He snickered at your non-answer. “Every cowboy’s got a reputation for rollin’ around in the hay. Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you’ve been bein’ honest with me all night, but I suppose it’s better late than never.”

Leaning down until his breath ghosted across your cheek, he whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

You smirked and pulled him closer until the two of you were nose to nose. “I think now’s as good a time as ever to get some practice in.”

“And the next night, and the next night,” Ace asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“And the night after that,” You said, bringing him in for a kiss.

#one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x y/n #.jesterwrites

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aperrywilliams · 1 year

Text

Unconventional (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven't seen your boyfriend, Spencer, in weeks and you are missing him like crazy. But circumstances have not been by your side lately. Will you find time for you both to share some intimacy?

Word Count: 8.5k (sorry, not sorry) of fluff, shameless smut, and something else ;)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI). SMUT. Masturbation (fem). Oral (fem receiving). Fingering. Penetrative sex. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Switch Spencer and switch Reader. Creampie.

A/N: This is a sequel of "They Would Never" and "That Wicked Love," but it can also be read as a stand-alone.

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"Okay, honey. Now it's time to sleep," you told Olivia as she crawled into her bed. As you tucked her, the pout on her face didn't go unnoticed. "What's it, baby?"

"When will Daddy be at home?" she asked with a sad frown.

You should have anticipated that question. It had been nine days since Spencer left on a case in Los Angeles. Nine days in which Olivia hadn't seen her father, and you hadn't seen your boyfriend.

Although it was common for Spencer to be out of town for work, the trips have become more frequent lately.

You could bet Olivia felt like her dad had been away forever. You didn't blame her because you felt the same way.

"He will be here late tonight, but you will see him in the morning, okay?" you tried to reassure the little girl with your motherly voice.

"M'kay," the kid shrugged, not very convinced. She still looked disappointed, but you settled with the fact she stopped asking questions. Kissing her forehead, you said good night.

"Sleep tight, baby. I love you."

"Love you too, Mommy," Olivia mumbled, hugging her teddy bear.

You flicked the lights off and padded to the living room. It was nine pm, and you decided to plop on the couch and read a book. Spencer texted some hours ago that he was flying back, but you didn't know when he would be home. You assumed it wouldn't happen before midnight, so you got comfy with your book and a glass of wine.

You lost track of time, so consumed in the story that you got startled when you heard the key jingling in the door's lock.

After noticing Spencer crossing the threshold, you almost jumped from the couch and ran to him. Spencer gladly welcomed your enthusiasm and hugged you tight. Your cheek was pressed to his chest as he kissed your head.

"I missed you," he mumbled.

"I missed you more," you disputed, muffling your words in his cardigan. God, you love the way his scent engulfs your senses.

"No way, I missed you more," Spencer replied, parting slightly to look at you—a grin plastered on his face. You leaned up and held his cheeks to kiss him. Spencer gladly kissed you back. You hummed contentedly as his lips molded with yours—it was the perfect fit.

When the need for breathing was too much, you reluctantly ended the kiss.

"Did you have dinner?" you asked the man, now attempting to tame his messy hair with your fingers.

"Yeah. We ate something flying back," Spencer replied, clearly comfortable with your doing in his hair.

"That's new. Are you sure you don't want something? A snack?" he shook his head.

"Nu-uh. Thanks. Is Liv sleeping?" Spencer asked instead, although he already figured out the answer.

"Yes, she does. After her bath, I put her in bed," you informed, pretty satisfied with how you combed Spencer's hair.

"Good." Spencer's gaze focused on you, barely blinking, with a smirk forming on his lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Spencer beamed as his hands tightened the grip on your waist and pulled you closer to him. With his lips close to the shell of your ear, his hot breath hit your skin in a way that got you goosebumps.

"Because I want to take my sweet girl to our bed and make love to her."

You felt the air leaving your lungs. Spencer using his bedroom voice, always made you tremble with desire. And he calling you his? It turned you feral. But you tried to play cool. Keyword: 'tried.'

"Uhm. Such a romantic," you said in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckled, not loosening his grip on you.

"Can you blame me? Nine days away from my gorgeous girlfriend are too much," he claimed before kissing your lips.

You melted into the kiss. Your body yearned for him, for his touch.

Walking backward, you both soon reached the bedroom. Not breaking the kiss Spencer leaned you on the mattress. His lips trailed down your neck; finding that spot always drives you crazy. A moan escaped you as he nipped the delicate skin.

"Spencer, do something, please. I'm about to combust," you demanded, unashamed of recognizing how much you needed him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Your clothes were quickly discarded and scattered on the floor as soft moans filled the room. Having him on top of you was what you had been craving for the past nine days. And it seems Spencer yearned for the same. His kisses on your skin and the reverence of his touch told you how much he missed you.

Not much later, your bodies melted deliciously, navigating in pure passion and dancing dangerously to the climax you both were searching for.

The coil in your lower stomach was building up, encouraged by Spencer's words.

"I missed you so much. God, you feel incredible," he panted in your ear, speeding his thrusts. You were about to succumb to your orgasm, but a little chirping voice brought you to reality.

"Mommy? Is daddy home?" Olivia asked from the hallway.

"Shit!" Spencer cursed, surprised by Liv's voice. But you weren't ready to let him go.

"Spencer, please. Please - don't - don't stop," you gasped. Nonetheless, Spencer slowed down his movements. Now, his attention was on your daughter on the opposite side of the wall.

"She's outside the door," Spencer pointed as if you didn't notice.

"Yeah, I - I know. But just - just a minute," you tried to convince Spencer, rocking your hips to encourage him to continue. Yet Spencer slowed to a halt, giving you an apologetic look and mouthing an 'I'm sorry.'

"Hi, Pumpkin! Daddy is home. Now I'm helping Mommy with something, and then I'll go to your room to say hi, okay?" He called to the door.

"And read me a story?" The little girl asked, excited after confirming her suspicion about Daddy at home.

"Sure! I'll be there in a minute!"

"M'kay!" you heard the little footsteps back to her room.

Carefully, Spencer pulled out of you, kissing your forehead.

"I'll go and come back real quick, okay?" He promised. You only sighed.

"Don't lie, Spencer. You know she won't be satisfied with just one story. She had missed you a lot."

"But I bet she's tired. I'll read her that one makes her fall asleep faster. That one with the castles and flying dragons? I promise I'll be back soon, and we can continue what we started," Spencer winked. You couldn't help but chuckle.

"Okay. I'll be waiting."

And you waited. Half an hour. An hour. An hour and a half. Spencer didn't come back, though. You already suspected what had happened, but you thought he was as eager as you so he could keep awake.

Only to be sure nothing terrible transpired, you padded to your daughter's room.

Spencer was soundly sleeping in the bed next to her. The book was long forgotten over the comforter.

There was no point in waking him up. You knew he likely didn't sleep properly in the past nine days. So you returned to the bedroom. After dressing in your comfy pajamas, you got into bed. Switching the lights off, you turned and closed your eyes. It took you only some minutes before dozing off.

When Spencer's eyes fluttered open, he first noticed Liv sleeping by his side. The second thing was how curled he was in the small bed. Stretching a little, he checked his watch. It read 3:00 AM.

Fuck. He had fallen asleep.

Slowly Spencer stood up and tucked Liv with the covers, leaving the book on the night table. After kissing her forehead, he walked out, leaving the room's door ajar.

Once back in your shared bedroom, he noticed you sleeping. Soft snoring escaped your lips.

He laid by your side, the mattress dipping under his weight. Carefully he leaned to whisper in your ear.

"Baby. I'm so sorry. I fell asleep. I'm sorry," he apologized, kissing your temple. You stirred a little, half awake, but you barely had the energy to speak, let alone to be gentle.

"Then go back to sleep," you mumbled before succumbing to your slumber again.

Spencer knew he deserved it. He made you wait, promising to come back soon. He would have to plan a good way to make it up to you.

After changing into his pajamas, Spencer joined you in bed and quickly dozen off.

Your alarm went off at 6:00 AM. Groaning, you threw down an arm over the bedside table. And without looking, you searched for the offensive device to turn it off.

Reluctantly your eyes fluttered open. To fight the snooze, you rubbed your palms over your eyes. Then you noticed Spencer was sleeping by your side.

He surely has the day off after the unholy hour he returned home last night.

Standing up, you padded to the bathroom to shower, hoping the hot water on your skin would help wake you up.

You were still slightly disappointed about the inexistent sexy time with your boyfriend last night, but you couldn't be mad at him. How could you? He looked so adorable sleeping next to Olivia.

But you have been missing him like crazy.

You've missed his hungry and open-mouth kisses, his hands roaming your naked body, his voice whispering dirty things in your ear.

God, you could hear him right now.

Without realizing it, you squeezed shut your eyes as your hand kneaded one of your breasts. With your thumb and pointer finger, you pinched a nipple and rubbed it. Your other hand traveled further south to meet your clit. Drawing several eight figures on the bud coaxed a moan from you.

The hot water on your skin only pushed you to get lost in the fantasy. The fantasy of Spencer fucking you like there is no tomorrow.

A whine escaped from your lips. You were so immersed in what you wanted him to do to you that you didn't notice Spencer's naked body behind you.

"You should have asked me if you wanted help with that," he said cheekily. You almost jumped in shock.

"Spencer!"

He wrapped his arms around your waist, his lips peppering kisses on your shoulder. He pressed your back to his chest, and you couldn't help the moan that left your mouth when you felt his hardness against your ass.

"Let me help, darling. Let me make it up for falling asleep last night," he asked. Your hum gave him the permission he needed.

After spinning you over, he quickly dropped to his knees, and with his left hand, he guided your right leg to rest over his shoulder. That provided him with the angle he wanted.

You were already turned on, but seeing Spencer on his knees for you was something else. He looked so hot there, so ready to please you.

He trailed kisses from your calves to your thighs. The anticipation was killing you.

"Baby, please. We do not have much time," you begged.

Spencer listened to your request and gave in, diving his mouth into your core.

"Fuck!" you whimpered, grasping Spencer's wet locks to root yourself.

"Baby, you taste so good," he mumbled, not stopping his task. The vibration of his voice rumbled in your core, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Everything about Spencer Reid was perfect; you learned that fact the day you met him years ago. But one of the incredible and still amazing things about this man was his talent to eat pussy. Like a starved man in front of his only meal. Of course, it's not something to complain about; quite the opposite.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chanted, so entranced in the pleasure you forgot the hot water hitting your bodies.

Spencer grasped your leg over his shoulder to keep you steady and used his other hand to push two fingers into you.

"Oh, yes! Yes! So so good!"

God, those slender and skillful fingers. You usually had an internal debate about what you loved the most: his tongue, fingers, or dick. But you loved them equally and even better if he used them on you simultaneously.

"Spencer, please. Faster, baby," you begged, and Spencer obliged. Speeding his motions, you were on the brink of your climax. You only needed a little push. When you were sure the coil was about to snap, a sudden opening of the bathroom door and a familiar little voice brought you to reality.

"Daddy!!! Aunt Penelope is calling!!!!" Liv chimed.

Spencer almost falls on the shower floor, leaving the grip of your leg.

"Shit!" you mumbled, bracing against the wall to steady yourself.

"Who is calling, Pumpkin?" Spencer shrieked, trying to conceal your curse words and his heavy breathing. Hastily he grabbed a towel from the hook next to the shower and covered himself.

"Aunt Peny!" Liv repeated, reaching out Spencer's cell phone to him.

"Oh. Okay. Thank you, sweetheart. Let's take the call outside, okay?" Spencer offered, leading Liv out of the bathroom.

After he shut the door, you let out a deep sigh, all flustered and frustrated.

Not a nice feeling, if you are honest.

Yet you knew the scene you'd find after exiting the bathroom would be more disappointing.

And you were just right.

With a towel around your body, you appeared in the bedroom and saw Spencer dressed in his usual work attire, fixing his tie. He noticed you standing there through the mirror reflection. Turning to face you, his apologetic eyes told you what you already knew.

"Don't look at me like that, please."

"I'm not looking at you in any particular way," you lied.

"Baby, I know you're pissed off. But there is an urgent case in Louisiana. There are several-" He was about to explain, but you shook your head to cut him off. You didn't want to know.

"Nu-uh. No need for details, Spencer. It's your job. I know." It was true; you knew how it was, but it didn't frustrate you less. Spencer came closer and held one of your hands.

"Hey, I promise I'll make it up to you," he vowed, rubbing your knuckles. You bit your lower lip; to this extent, you had already lost count of the times he had told the same thing in the past months.

"Don't. Stop saying that, Spence. I know you have good intentions, but circumstances are not on our side, so stop making promises we know you can't keep, okay?"

Spencer winced. He knew you were right; he didn't find a tangible way to make it up to Liv or you in the past months. That pained him.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad. Just - just frustrated, okay? Now I'm going to help Liv to dress and prepare myself for work," you announced, squeezing his hand before letting go of it and leaving the bedroom.

After assisting Olivia with the morning routine, the little girl strolled to where her dad was in the kitchen. You then started to prepare yourself. You knew it would be a hard day at work. Thanks to the nonhabitual customers plaguing the bookstore during the Holiday season, it had been like that in the past week.

You got to the kitchen fully dressed and found Spencer preparing breakfast. Liv was eating her cereal already.

"Mommy! Daddy made breakfast!" Liv chirped.

"I see that, sweetheart. Daddy made breakfast for me too. Thanks, Daddy," you said, grabbing the mug full of coffee Spencer served.

He gave you a wide smile.

Spencer felt terrible for leaving again in less than twelve hours, so he wanted at least to make a little something.

"I can take Liv to school," he offered. You looked at him, puzzled.

"You sure? You are not late already?"

"I'm sure. It's okay. I don't think the whole team gets there in less than forty-five minutes," Spencer informed, checking his watch.

You nodded, knowing why he was doing this. Spencer was already self-conscious and anxious about not being around so often in the past weeks. He felt guilty, and you hated making him feel that way.

After the last sip of his coffee, Spencer stood.

"Okay, time to go, Liv."

The little girl rushed to get her backpack and then to you to kiss you goodbye.

"Bye, Mommy."

"Bye, sweetheart. Mommy will pick you up in the afternoon, okay?" You reminded her while combing a rebel hair strand behind her ear. Olivia had the same kind of untamed hair as her father.

"M'kay. Love you."

"Love you too, honey."

"I'll call you when we touch down, okay?" Spencer affirmed, grabbing his satchel and go-bag.

"Okay. Be safe," you requested, as always, when he was leaving for a case.

"I will. I love you. So so much." Spencer pecked your lips, caressing your cheek.

"I love you too, Spencer."

And you were right. The day stood as awful as you thought it would be. So awful that it was eleven pm, and you were at home still working on the list you needed to get for the bookstore collection.

A ding from your phone took you out of your current task.

You chuckled, just picturing Spencer's face right now.

You typed, knowing Spencer could be slightly exaggerated sometimes. Still, you love when he tells you about trivial things of his day.

You didn't want to worry him, but you couldn't lie to him.

Spencer - the guy who barely sleeps being away from home - worried about your sleeping schedule was something contradictory and adorable at the same time.

Spencer felt bad. Even if he knew you were as workaholic as him, he would have wanted to be there so you didn't have to put up with all the work. On top of that, he missed you and his daughter.

In the time you have been dating since your reunion - five years after Olivia was born - Spencer's life changed, and for the better.

Spencer thought he would never find happiness after what he did. He thought he lost his chance when you told him you were pregnant, and he left.

So when fate brought you to his life again, he swore not to screw it up this time. Against the odds, you accepted him, and Spencer has never been happier since then. Thinking about that, he can't stress enough his desire to make you happy for long as you have him. As happy as you make him.

With that thought and before going to sleep, Spencer made a mental note to talk with Emily the following day. He needed to do something to make it up for the weeks away from you and get back the quality time you both needed.

While Spencer was catching a serial killer in Louisiana, you still managed a lot of workload in the bookstore. Five days and you were utterly exhausted. Now it was Friday, and Spencer hadn't called you yet. You guys spoke the night before; he hoped to wrap the case soon. Checking your watch, you realized it was time to pick up Liv from school. As you were getting ready, the bell at the bookstore entrance got your attention. You weren't prepared for what you saw next: Luke Alvez crossing the threshold. It took you two seconds to start freaking out. Something bad happened. Luke read your face immediately and jumped to explain.

"No, no, no. Everything is okay. Spencer is okay," he hastened to say, walking to you with hands up to calm you down.

"Why are you here then?" You asked, confused. You didn't think Luke was there looking for a book or just passing by.

And that also meant Spencer was in DC as well.

"Sorry, that sounded rude. When did you guys come back?" You asked the man, who gave you a wide smile.

"It's okay. We came back today. We caught the guy first thing in the morning. But! I'm not here to talk about work," he said, handing you an envelope he produced from his pocket. You took it and narrowed your eyes before opening it. There was a card inside you learned was written by Spencer. His handwriting was unmistakable.

'My sweet girl,

I'm sorry if seeing Luke made you nervous. I'm okay, safe and sound. I just can't be there right now, although I only want to be with you. Yet I need you to trust me in this, okay? I need you to go with Luke. He knows where. And you don't have to worry about Olivia, she is fine. I already picked her up.

See you soon, my love.

SR.'

You looked at Luke, still puzzled. He chuckled, signaling to the door.

"Shall we?"

You tried, by all means, to get Luke to tell you something about what was happening as you guys went in the car to who knows where, but he just shook his head, smiling and telling you to be patient. Clearly, Luke Alvez didn't know patience was the least you had left these days. Even so, you stopped insisting and focused on the road after a while. It was starting to get dark, and through the window, you could see the landscape of big green trees passing by. It was a welcomed sight after the days you just had.

Luke pulled over to a cabin hidden between the woods an hour later. The lights inside were on, and on the porch, you saw Spencer standing with a massive smile on his face.

"Spencer?" You asked after getting down from Luke's car. Luke behind you.

"Hey, love. How was the trip?" Spencer asked casually as if this was a regular occurrence and you were totally aware of what was going on.

"Honey, why you don't explain to me what's this?"

"Okay, Reid, (Y/N). Here is where my task is done," Luke announced, taking off an invisible hat in a saluting motion before climbing again to his car.

"Thank you so much, Luke. I owe you," Spencer told Alvez, who shook his head.

"No problem, man. Have a good time, you two."

As the car pulled away, you turned back to look at Spencer, who already had his eyes on you.

"Spencer? Why are we here? Where is Liv?" You asked, looking behind his shoulder into the cabin to see if your daughter was there. Spencer followed your line of vision, knowing what you were doing.

"Hey, look at me," he requested, softly tilting your head back to him with his fingers on your chin.

"But-" You stuttered. You weren't accustomed to being without Olivia if you weren't working or she wasn't at school.

"Hey, Liv is fine. She's with JJ and the boys, and they'll have a pajama party tonight. She won't miss us. And we, my sweet girl? We need time for ourselves. I know the past months have been stressful for both; that's why we are here. To disconnect and reconnect," Spencer explained, lovingly stroking your cheek. His efforts worked. You were now focused, looking at the man in awe.

"So you planned all of this?" You raised an eyebrow. Not that you weren't familiar with Spencer doing special things for you, but lately, your routine consumed a lot from both of you.

"Yep," he answered sheepishly. You chuckled before leaning to peck his lips.

"Spencer Reid, you're definitely something else."

"Wait until you see inside," he retorted, holding your hand and leading you into the cabin.

Spencer was right. Inside was like being in a romantic movie.

The place was cozy, with a fireplace in the middle and a large couch with thick blankets. In the back was a small table already set neatly for two. Not to mention the enormous windows with a spectacular lake view.

"This is so beautiful. Look at the lights! A table for two? Wine? You went the extra mile here!" You complimented your boyfriend as you took in the place. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck.

"Ah! And you haven't seen the hot tub yet," Spencer mumbled into your skin, filling your stomach with butterflies.

"I assume we won't sleep tonight," you giggled, turning to face Spencer. He had a playful look.

"Maybe not, but we can do that tomorrow," he offered, pecking the tip of your nose.

"I doubt it if we need to leave early," you pouted. Spencer smirked.

"We don't have to. Indeed, we don't have to come back until Monday noon."

Monday noon? You were not understanding.

"Spencer, don't be silly. Liv can't stay with JJ the entire weekend, and we have work," you tried to reason, but that only got you a wider smile from Spencer.

"In fact, she can. JJ promised the boys a trip to the zoo tomorrow and the kid's carnival in Virginia on Sunday. JJ invited Liv to join them, and she said yes," he informed you. You narrowed your eyes to him.

"Are you letting our six-old pick her activities for the weekend now?" Spencer giggled.

"Yep. This time, at least. And! About work, you don't have to worry. I have time off until Tuesday, and I talked with Alan, so you do too."

You were impressed. Spencer indeed took care of all the details.

"Unbelievable. And I have to guess you packed clothes for the weekend too?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"Your guess is correct. Although I do plan you won't wear many clothes this weekend. I would even venture to say we'll stay naked most of the time," Spencer whispered in your ear.

"Spencer Reid! What a perverted mind of yours," you scolded him, trying to disguise the growing desire you already had. He chuckled, leaning back to look at you.

"I know, but you love me for that."

"And for so many other things. Do you want me to show you?" You asked him, running your index finger up and down his chest.

"Oh yes, please," he agreed, kissing you. You welcomed the gesture, capturing his lips in yours. Your hands now fled up his shoulders until they were secured around his neck. Spencer gripped your hips to keep you in place.

Soon after, the kiss grew in heat and need. No one could have blamed you; it had been weeks since you both hadn't been together. Not even your best toy had been enough to appease how you missed him.

You were ready to have him right there and then. But it seemed Spencer had other plans because when you were about to undo his shirt buttons without breaking the kiss, one of his hands stopped you.

"Wait," he mumbled into your lips, reluctantly parting his lips from yours.

"What's wrong?" You asked, worried about doing something inappropriate or making him uncomfortable.

"Nothing. I mean, I'm as desperate as you are," Spencer answered, almost huffing. You didn't understand then why he stopped. Spencer saw the confusion in your eyes and hurried to explain. "It's just that dinner is ready, and we have a bottle of wine waiting for us," he explained, head pointing to the table.

"But baby, dinner can wait," you suggested seductively, giving your best bedroom eyes to him. You wanted nothing but him to give in and fuck you senseless.

Spencer bit his lower lip, considering your offer for a second. It didn't help you were toying with his shirt buttons, not breaking eye contact and batting your eyelashes at him.

"Ugh! Fuck dinner," Spencer decided, pulling you full to his body to kiss your lips. You gladly complied, shoving your arms around his neck again and kissing him back.

Not breaking apart, you both stumbled between the furniture to reach the bedroom. But once there, you couldn't help but part from Spencer's lips to turn and admire the place. Candles were scattered over each surface, giving a dim glow to the room.

"This is amazing, Spencer."

Spencer chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"All for you, my sweet girl," he purred in your ear. You love how horny he gets when he calls you like that. And hearing him talk made you shudder in anticipation. You were desperate for him. You have been like this for weeks and couldn't wait any longer.

"Please, Spencer. I need you," you begged, leaning back to rest your head on his shoulder.

"And I need you," he told you while his hands danced dangerously down your lower stomach and his lips kissed your neck. His hot breath on your skin set you aflame, and the moan ripping your throat sounded nasty and eager, but you couldn't care less.

Spencer's hands traveled to the hem of your top, pulling it up. You eased his task, raising your arms. With the garment out, Spencer's hand moved to unclasp your bra. After tugging the fabric off of you, he tossed it behind him.

You turned then to face him. He groaned, seeing your breasts. His hands cupped each of them as magnets, massaging the flesh and coaxing a moan from you.

"I missed these girls," he breathed before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirling around the bud felt amazing. You were so soaked already by his ministrations in your sensitive skin that you could have cum right then.

"Feels so good," you moaned, eyes closed shut and arching your back to give him better access.

Releasing your nipple with a pop, Spencer was now focused on the other one. Both needed the same treatment. Your hands flew to his wild curls, tugging them for what you got a grunt from Spencer.

"Harder," he demanded, and you obliged, tugging harder this time. A moan escaped from Spencer's mouth, vibrating in your skin and making you dizzy.

"Fuck, baby," you breathed. The noises coming from his mouth made you so wet and needy that you clenched your thighs together to get some friction, and you weren't even naked yet.

Out of instinct, your hands shifted to yank his shirt. Spencer understood what you wanted, and with his lips sucking and nipping your exposed skin, he unbuttoned and got rid of his shirt, tossing it to the floor.

"Spencer, please," you begged. You needed more, and you needed it now.

His hands moved to secure your ass and lift you up so your legs hooked around his waist. He walked both of you to the bed, climbing on his knees and bending you over the mattress.

"What do you want?" He asked, lips brushing yours and his voice husky with desire.

"You. All of you. Please."

"Don't worry, my sweet girl. I'll take care of you." His mouth was now kissing your neck as his hands started to unbutton your jeans.

The more desperate you were, the more Spencer tortured you by moving slower. Neither the whines nor the moans ripping from your throat were convincing enough. He wanted to take his sweet time with you.

After sliding your jeans down your legs and flinging them to the floor, Spencer's mouth focused on your calves first, kissing and licking up until reaching your thighs.

Your core throbbed in protest at the inattention, but it didn't wait long to feel Spencer's hot breath in your covered pussy. He groaned at the realization of how wet you were.

"All this for me?" He asked cockily, tracing the flimsy fabric with his fingers and making you moan.

"Yes! All of it. For you, baby," you panted and whined while Spencer toyed with the waistline of your panties.

"I need to taste you. Can I?" He asked. As if you were going to tell him no, which you wouldn't.

"Yes, yes, do it, baby."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice, gliding your panties down your legs and leaving you completely bare and at his mercy.

Seeing yourself so exposed might have made you feel vulnerable, but with Spencer, it didn't. Since the first time you both had sex, he had always treated you as the most precious thing in the world.

After licking a long stripe of your core, Spencer hummed, satisfied at last having you like this. You were the air his lungs missed.

Instinctively your hands found a home between his curls. You needed something to ground to as your boyfriend's tongue swirled around your swollen clit.

"So good. You taste so fucking good. I will never get tired of this," the man between your legs praised. It was true; if he could spend hours eating you out, he would. More than once, hearing your noises and feeling your moisture coating his tongue had been enough for him to cum.

This time though, he wanted you to cum first before he could ever think to do it himself. Still sucking your nub, he used his fingers to add to your pleasure. And it worked; as he finger-fucked you and lapped your clit, you were a moaning mess at the brink of cumming.

"Spencer! Right there! I'm gonna-shit!" You announced, shamelessly whining under his ministrations. Spencer knew you were close and sped his pace. Without stopping his task, he spoke his command.

"Cum for me. Let me drink it all."

His words rumbling in your core were what pushed you to the edge. You screamed his name, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair. A white-hot flash blurred your sight as your body filled with the pick of your pleasure.

"Spencer! Fuck!"

"That's my girl," he mumbled, dribbling at your core and swallowing everything you gave him. His fingers were still massaging that sweet spot, now slowly to help you to ride out your orgasm.

As you descended from your high, you noticed between half-lidded eyes a pair of hazel orbs looking at you in utter adoration.

"Good?" He asked, a lovesick smile plastered on his face. You huffed a laugh, still trying to regulate your breathing.

"You ask me that after I got hoarse from screaming your name?" You questioned in disbelief. Spencer chuckled.

"Yeah?"

"Come here," you demanded, pulling him up to kiss him. You could taste your own arousal coating his lips. The feeling made you both moan in unison.

"I love you," he mumbled on your lips.

"I love you too," you replied, still dizzy after your intense orgasm.

"We can stop if you want," he offered. You glanced at him, almost offended.

"If you stop, I'll break up with you," you threatened. Spencer laughed.

"Yes, ma'am."

Not waiting for another command, Spencer hovered over you, kissing you hungrily. You welcomed his passion, roaming down his naked torso and reaching his belt buckle. Then your hands were doing quick work to unfasten it.

"Eager, are we?" Spencer teased, nibbling at your collarbone.

"I could say the same," you bantered back, slightly palming his clothed erection. That made Spencer growl.

"I'm not going to lie, my sweet girl. I want to fuck you so bad," he grunted in your ear. And you moaned in anticipation.

"Then do it. Fuck me. I need your cock, baby. Fuck me hard until I forget my name," you begged, your voice giving away your desperation.

Spencer couldn't take it anymore; he kneeled on the mattress to undid his pants. He got rid of them and his boxers in record time. Both garments landed on the floor somewhere across the room.

Your eyes couldn't help but focus on Spencer's length hitting his lower stomach. It was painfully hard, head angry red and leaking precum. The sight watered your mouth. Oh, how bad you wanted it inside you, tearing you in two.

You let out a painful mewl at the thought, making Spencer chuckle.

"What is it?" Spencer taunted, already knowing what you wanted.

"Please, baby," you purred, hand wrapping around his length to pump it a few times. Spencer hissed when you did that.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," he demanded. You whined, hoping that would be enough for him to give in, but it wasn't. He would wait until you told him exactly what you wanted.

"I need your big cock. In me. Fucking me senseless," you confessed, still moving your hand up and down Spencer's dick. That was the last straw for him. With one hand, he grabbed both of yours and pinned them above your head. You gasped at the sudden change of position, but Spencer was too focused on what he was doing even to care. His free hand held his cock, aligning it with your entrance.

Slowly he pushed forward, and you felt how you were filled by him inch by inch. A dragged moan ripped out of your mouth at the welcomed intrusion.

"So tight, so warm," Spencer praised, entranced by the sensation of you and the sight of him disappearing between your folds.

"Spencer. Oh my God."

Once he was fully inside, his gaze focused on your face. Eyes squeezed shut; eyebrows furrowed, and mouth agape.

"I missed you so much, my sweet girl," he declared, using one hand to stroke your cheek lovingly. You opened your eyes to find his hazel ones looking at you with utter devotion.

"I missed you too, Spence. So much," you acknowledged, basking in the feeling of him and, above all, enjoying that time alone you both needed.

"I would stay like this forever," Spencer recognized, pushing some hair strands out of your face. A moan tore from his chest when you involuntarily clenched your walls around him.

"Me too, but now you need to move," you whimpered, ready to receive everything he could offer you. Spencer nodded, pulling out almost entirely before slamming into you again to set a steady pace.

"Fuck, yes!" You cried, feeling Spencer thrust into you once and again.

The sound of skin hitting skin was sinful, and your moans only added to that erotic picture. Spencer's eyes didn't leave yours, trying to commit to memory your blissed expression. He loved being the one who could give you that much pleasure. He wanted that for the rest of his life.

"(Y/N), shit," he panted, leaning forward to rest his forearms on each side of your head so he could kiss you hard. You kissed him back with the same intensity, swallowing all his grunts escaping his mouth with each thrust.

You were lost in the pleasure he was giving you, but nothing seemed to be enough. You wanted all of him. To feel him in deeply in you.

"Harder! Please, harder. I can take it!"

Your demand came in the form of a broken moan. And who was Spencer to deny you anything? Leaning his head in the crook of your neck, his hips started to move faster and purposely deep. Grunting in your ear, he tried to do his best not to lose it.

"So you can take it, uh? My sweet girl is so fucking desperate for my cock. If people knew how a whore you get with my dick in you." He accompanied each word with a harsh thrust, leaving you like a moaning mess.

You loved Spencer's dirty talk. It always got you there in no time. And this occasion wasn't the exception.

"Baby, I'm so close," you whined, scratching his biceps with your nails.

"Fuck, me too," Spencer added, panting hard and feeling his thrusts faltering.

"Please, don't stop!" You begged, almost at the edge of your climax.

"I won't," he grunted, thrusting deeper if possible.

"Shit! Oh God!"

"Cum for me! Cum on my cock, please," Spencer demanded with the last ounce of strength before succumbing to his own pleasure. And his words worked. After he commanded you to come, your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

"Fuck! Yes!" you cried as your walls constricted and your sight went blank.

"(Y/N), argh!" Spencer grunted, thrusting in and out to ride out your high and chase his own.

"Give it to me. Come on, Spencer. Give it to me!" you chanted, clenching your walls with the spasms of your climax. That drove Spencer to the edge, emptying himself in you. His warmth filled you and almost pushed you into another orgasm.

Spencer's body collapsed onto yours. His heavy breathing matched yours. As you descended from your highs, your hands found Spencer's damped hair. Spencer's hand rubbed circles in your naked waist as your fingers racked between his locks.

After some sense of reality brought you both back, Spencer pulled out of you and headed to the bathroom to get a wet cloth and clean the remnants of your mess. Tossing the fabric into the hamper, he laid down next to you.

"Wow. That - that was amazing," you puffed, still trying to catch your breath and scooting closer to rest your head on his chest.

"Yeah. More than amazing," Spencer added, securing your waist with his arms around.

It had been a long time since you had spent an evening like this. Without the pressure of time, your work, or chores to do.

"Thank you," you told Spencer, lazily gesturing around the room. You both were still regulating your breath. Spencer turned his head to look at you and smiled.

"You are welcome," he winked. And you could have ended the conversation there, but you felt the urge to let out what was on your mind.

"I'm not only talking about this, you know? I mean, I do," you tried to explain. "But it's everything, I guess?" Spencer raised an eyebrow. There was something else; he could feel it.

"(Y/N), if someone should be thankful, that would be me. Believe me," Spencer retorted softly. You shook your head, avoiding eye contact. Noticing your reaction, he leaned with a forearm on the mattress and reached to stroke your cheek so you could look at him again.

Maybe it's true sex can get you emotional; you didn't know, honestly. But you couldn't help the tears rolling down your cheeks- tears that alarmed your boyfriend.

"Hey, what's it, baby? Did I do or say something wrong?" Spencer asked when he saw your glassy eyes. You hastened to explain.

"No! You didn't do anything bad. It's the opposite, actually," you started. Spencer narrowed his eyes, trying to catch your train of thought.

While collecting your ideas, you sat in bed. Spencer mimicked you, giving you time to develop whatever was in your head.

"I won't tell you this to make you feel bad or guilty. But I need it to prove my point, okay?" You prefaced. Spencer nodded in silence. After letting out a deep sigh, you spoke again.

"I'm not going to say I fell in love with you the day I met you, but between that point and our first date, I knew I had fallen hard for you. And it was tough to realize things between us didn't evolve like a fairy tale. After you left, reality hit me: I was alone against the world again. But this time, I had a human being who depended on me," you sighed, remembering when you discovered you were pregnant. Spencer kept a respectful silence, waiting for you to continue.

"For a long time, I convinced myself I needed to fall in love again to get over you. And I tried. I swear I looked for it. But at some point, I stopped. It just didn't make sense, you know? I couldn't force my heart to do that. And I wondered if that kind of love wasn't meant for me. I settled with that idea to move on," you shrugged, gazing at him. You noticed how guilty he felt even if he didn't say anything.

"Spencer, I never hated you, even if you thought I did at some point. Truthfully, I hated myself for believing I could have gotten more from you than I did."

Spencer looked at you intensely, fighting the urge to say something. But he promised he would listen.

"And then life made us cross paths again. It wasn't conventional, but it happened, and the idea of having you in my life again scared the shit of me. I didn't want my heart hurt, but I did it for Olivia. And when I tried to shield myself from you, you still managed to reach me and rebuild the love you broke in me. I didn't feel it was possible, but you did it. That's why I thank you. Even if you broke my heart, you gathered the pieces and cared for them until they became whole again. You restored my faith in love."

As you ended speaking, you caught Spencer's tearing eyes. Yours surely looked the same.

"I love you," Spencer mumbled, barely blinking to avoid letting go of his tears. You smiled. Those words were the reassurance you needed in a moment of vulnerability like this.

"And I love you too if you didn't notice it from what I just said," you finished your statement with a joke, trying to lighten the mood. Spencer shook his head, chuckling. You giggled, satisfied with his reaction. That giggle morphed into a wide smile when his lips met yours in a long, sweet kiss.

When the kiss ended, Spencer rested his forehead on yours, basking in the intimate moment you were having. And without any prompting, he just said...

"Marry me."

After the words left his mouth, he realized what he had done. Opening his eyes, he saw yours filled with confusion.

"What?"

It slipped, but there was nothing but truth in his request. Spencer was convinced he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, be your husband, and love you how you deserved to be loved.

Chuckling nervously, he shook his head.

"It is not like I pictured this to go, but I can't wait any longer," he confessed. The cat was out of the bag.

"Spencer, what are you talking about?"

"Please. Give me a second. Wait right here."

Before you could say anything, he quickly got up from the bed and ran to the living room. Seeing your naked boyfriend jumping out of bed into the hallway was humorous enough to make a joke. Still, you were so confused about what was happening that nothing came out of your mouth.

"Where are you-" You stuttered.

"I'll be right back!"

He was right. In less than a minute, Spencer reappeared in the room, one of his fists clenched. He quickly knelt on the mattress in front of you, and with his free hand, he took yours.

"Like I said. It wasn't how I imagined doing this, but I guess Rossi was right when he told me you can't fabricate the perfect moment, but you can feel it, though," he prefaced.

"Spencer-"

“(Y/N). I love you, and I'll love you until my last breath and beyond. There is no one I want to be with for the rest of my days but you. You are the one for me; you already gave me your heart and one of the most precious gifts I could ask for, our little Olivia. And I want to make you both happy for the rest of my life."

Although you already suspected where this was going, your brain still couldn't believe the scene unfolding before you.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?"

Your jaw dropped after hearing the question. Spencer was proposing to you? It couldn't be. Although things were going well between you in this universe, you did not expect something like this at this moment.

Spencer took your silence as discomfort, so he tried to explain himself.

"I know this is unconventional. I had never proposed to anyone kneeling on a mattress, naked and shaking, either for feeling cold or be extremely nervous, I don't know. Well, I never proposed to anyone before, but you know what I mean-" Spencer rambled until you cut him off.

"Yes!" You blurted. And this time, it was Spencer who was surprised by your retort.

"What? 'Yes, I never proposed to anyone before' or 'Yes, I didn't do it being naked?'" he questioned, narrowing his eyes.

You laughed when you saw your boyfriend's face trying to figure out what you were referring to.

"Silly, 'yes' is my answer. I'll marry you," you repeated, beaming.

The confusion quickly turned to elation. You said yes. You agreed to marry him and be his wife. This was one of the happiest days of his life.

Without warning, he caught you with his arms in a tight embrace, laughing and letting out tears of happiness, hiding his head in your neck and inhaling your essence, evidence that you and this moment were real.

"So yes?" He asked when he parted, only for good measure.

"A million times yes," you assured him, leaning to kiss your now fiancee's lips.

A million times, you would say to him yes. That million times represent the love for that man who just asked to marry him, naked in the bed where he just fucked you like there wasn't tomorrow, in a cabin lost in the woods he picked to have time alone with you. This is the same man that broke your heart and mended it with time, care, and devotion. The man that gave you a beautiful daughter and just had promised life by your side.

Things were unconventional with Spencer Reid, no doubt, but unconventional is the story between you and him, so why not?

This moment starts another chapter in your unconventional life together, and you are already eager to know what the future will bring you.

Are you guys not eager to know too?

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey

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