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insuke69 · 4 months

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What's in a name? P2

Part I

2/3

☆ Hobie brown × Rich!Osborn!reader

★ Synopsis: Osborn is almost a disgusting name because of the messed up things it has and the dirty money that holds it up by threads. And here is the child that sneaks out one night and meets a punk that goes directly against her father.

✩ Warnings: cussing, Some more angst, 'crybaby’ reader, misunderstanding, SMUT

★ smut: P in V, unprotected, pull-out-method, oral (F!receiving), pierced pp.

Rating—M

✩ 7,1k words

______

If one word could describe how the next few days of your life was, It’d be bittersweet.

Bittersweet Because of how sweet Spiderpunk was to you. Or rather, how sweet he was to who he thought was Emily.

So sweet while you couldn’t describe how you felt with him, with your own behavior more open and carefree with that dark mask you bare almost every night when you sneak out and ‘accidentally’ run into him. It makes you grin like an idiot when he stands close or when you see him webbing over to you as you chill around the bench.

That bench where you two met, where you always helplessly cried as a little girl now being a place you look forward to going every day. The second the sun sets you tell Roxy you’re going out and you stay out until any hour of the night with not even Roxy knowing about the special punk that makes your heart pound and your body ease with some kind of feeling that makes you want to be close to him physically and emotionally.

Something about how exhilarating and free you felt around him, his arm around you while you held onto him. You two often webbed some nights, to buildings you know inside out since you helped your dad design some, or some simple spray painting in canals, and if you were lucky: You two would end up on some rooftop talking while looking into the night sky with few stars because of light pollution.

One night you’re bent beside your bed with the collection of pictures with you and Spiderpunk, you’re wondering if you should show him who you are: But that's the bitter part.

Spiderpunk loves and is close to the masked street artist he simply knows by her fake name, Emily.

Bitter because he doesn’t care for the actual woman below the mask, yet he enjoys the mask and the personality below. Spiderpunk seems to despise y/n Osborn. He doesn’t make his rebellious habits too known since he didn’t do that for attention and was always his own unfiltered and blunt self. How the hell will you two ever know each other when he wears his mask for anonymity and you wear yours to not end up getting stabbed at every turn.

“I just.. I feel like she's always trying to act as if she’s so much better than her dad, when she doesn’t even leave her house to avoid the people who see her as she is.” you remember Spiderpunk shrugging since the topic had moved to ‘you’.

“Yeah? What a hot take.” You comment sarcastically with a chuckle. You couldn’t defend yourself/who is the true woman behind the mask since he would likely be offended that you would defend the daughter of such a monster.

Your small memory moment cuts short as you hear your door knock in the way you know exactly who is the one behind the door and quickly shove the shoebox full of pictures of Spiderpunk and you with the art you’ve been putting up on most osborn buildings under your bed and sit on the edge of it while the door opens and Roxy walks in.

“Hey, remember to get ready for the event.” She said as she looks away from you and goes straight to your closet. “This is important to your father, he needs his daughter there and he needs you to behave for it.” Roxy continued as she began picking out an outfit for you.

This was a christmas event where your dad made a whole thing just to show off he donated some money to a cause about homeless and unfed people around in Brazil, meanwhile he hates the needy people down in the city less than a ten minute drive away–and actively keeping them ignored.

“What's the.. Uhm..” You begin before pausing to think of the word,

“Schedule? It's from five to twelve.” Roxy chimed.

“What? Dude! I won’t be able to go out w-” You cut yourself off before rewording your words, “I don’t want to go.” you say as you lean back on your hands before adding with a scoff. “It’s a waste of time and we both know I just have to smile for a camera and look pretty like some display model.”

Roxy didn’t know about Spiderpunk, nobody did. You couldn’t let her know about Spiderpunk, it's one thing to sneak out and arrive home late with spray paint stains and smelling like an unfamiliar cologne and musky scent faintly drafting through the air you walk through–mostly because you have to hold onto Spiderpunk as you two swing through the musty camden air.

“Yes, but you also have to understand how important this is to your father, and I’ve been trying my very best to make sure your Mr. Osborn h-”

“My dad, Norman, I couldn’t care less.” you interrupt with a slight grimace, “You don’t have to ‘Mr. Osborn’ him to me.”

Roxy nods and clears her throat, “Norman,” She corrected, “In shorter words, I’ve trying so damn hard to make sure he doesn’t find anything out about whatever the hell you do when you go out, The least you can do is listen to me and miss what you do just this once.”

Her tone is a bit exasperated while still calm as if it were nothing while she rummaged through your closet and took out a sparkly low cut red dress with black edges along with lace over where cleavage would’ve been visible, along with black stilettos. She places the dress and pair of shoes onto your bed beside where you sat and moved over to your vanity for the jewelry to wear with everything, settling on a pearl necklace and a pair of white gold earrings and placing them in the middle of your vanity for you to put them on before makeup.

“I still don’t get why you have to pick out my outfits, still.” You murmur under your breath with snark as you look over what Roxy had set up for you.

“You are still dependent.” She answered bluntly while grabbing tights for you, fishnets to have below the skirt of the dress.

Still dependent.

You go quiet for a moment. So even Roxy thinks you’re a daddy's girl who can’t think for herself. She’s always picked your outfits for you for events, it always pissed you off how she never wanted to teach you about what colors clash or what is too tacky. How are you supposed to know if nobody has taught you anything?

“Your hair will be half up-half down.” Roxy adds as she gestures to what she had set up for you.

At least you had your own abilities to do your own damn hair, how generous. And with that, Roxy had walked out of your room to leave you get changed and ready for the event.

You roll your eyes and start getting changed, you look at yourself in the mirror and take a breath before testing your fake smile while looking at yourself, partially not really recognizing the reflection behind it.

Some dolled up girl wearing things that cost more than most people can wish for, your money that you don’t earn, you can't earn anything. You’re like some little girl who has to rely on the people who refuse to even teach you anything. Your face just feels as if you’re being forced to enjoy and display everything that holds blood and dirt, almost muddily dragged on your skin and collar bone.

You huff and rip your gaze from the mirror and move back to your bed to take out the balaclava and gloves hastily and shove the shoebox back under your bed and hidden away then moving over to your closet and grabbing a black and white purse–shoving in the gloves and mask before spraying on your usual perfume and leaving your room to start being on your way to the event.

_____

In summary:

The event is shit, the event has loud music, loud overwhelming music, the whole time you have to be stood with a smile that barely reaches your eyes and having to awkwardly hug or shake hands with the most random strangers you have to interact with.

There's good food and catering–but you for whatever reason was told to stay by the big decorative tree and some security guards around you since it's the usual thing at events, your father isn’t really loved by all so it's for your safety to have some random big dude hovering your every move and interaction.

“Hey, what time is it?” You ask the taller man who wore dark sunglasses and a serious look on his face that barely glance at you, almost protecting you like you were some safe that has to be observed because of secrets and riches it held.

“It’s..” He changed his statue-like position and checked his watch, “Seven o’four.” He answered while moving back to his earlier position and staring dead ahead as if you were medusa, he was still and cold as stone anyway.

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest at the time. Five more hours of standing beside some man who doesn’t care to at all speak or interact with ‘the goods’ or the product he's protecting? No. You glance around and see some double doors that are labeled with two signs which indicate a woman's bathroom and the dude bathroom with a smaller sign with some writing that you can’t read all that well.

You take a step to walk in that direction before feeling a hand on your shoulder like a chain around your ankle holding you back.

Oh right, the statue-bodyguard

“Where do you th-” The guy began before you shake his hand off of your shoulder and keep walking in that direction.

“Bathroom! Little lady Osborn has to go to the ladies room.” You say sarcastically while walking over to the doors you saw, the bodyguard letting you go after saying something about not wasting time and five minutes–you tuned him out because you already felt so free without him hovering.

You walk towards the doors and read small instructions that pretty much tell you/the one reading that where the bathrooms are.

Turn left to the second hall and third door to the right, follow the hall where the restroom signs are.

-Oscorp

You push the door and walk through to see some big hall where there are other rooms, an untouched area of the venue that seemed to be rooms to take care of kids, like some daycare or classrooms. The hall has a barely yellowish tint and has a hall that goes to the bathrooms. You explore a bit more to find an exit with a bright green sign to indicate exactly what it is.

You grin and clutch your purse as you head to the emergency exit and push it open–the cold air of the night hitting you immediately and you curse at yourself for leaving your sweater to the guard.

You take a deep breath and let the cool air flood your lungs before taking a few steps away from the building to find what part of the city you’re in and start walking more while taking out your balaclava and gloves then putting them on.

You zone out while taking the refreshing walk away from the loud party your dad- well, ‘oscorp’ has thrown, a wasteful event full of music and food to distract people from the ruined lives caused by this large and overrated company.

You then hear a familiar THWAP appear from behind you.

Oh god.

Not now-

Your mask is over your face along with your gloves but that doesn’t hide your expensive jewelry or dress, or heels or anything of the sort that shows you aren’t the lower middle class woman Spiderpunk should think you are.

“Emi’?”

A voice you always want to hear, whether it's asking or telling you something, whether it's called out or whispered in your ear, you love whenever his deep cockney words are directed at you. The nickname he gave you since he often joked about Emily being too much of a hassle to pronounce.

But right now it feels horrifying, heart full of dread at the possibility of him figuring out you aren’t who you’ve been saying you are- hell- your name isn’t even Emily, you just named yourself after your dead mother.

“Emily.” Spiderpunk said more firmly once he recognised that mask, the same mask he sees most nights–and to little of your knowledge..

Really want to see what's below it.

Really wants to see the face of the woman he's growing to love.

You swallow your pride and turn to face him as if you were a kid whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

The lenses to spiderpunks masks widen a little as if to represent a bit of surprise once he sees the figure below what he usually sees, a worn out hoodie or random tee and some jeans. But now he's seeing a curvaceous colored figure in a dress that's glamorized with jewelry made of pearls and white gold, shining in the streetlight and faded moonlight.

You expect his expression shift of disgust or something at how you’re dressed, rich girl, looking like a classy brat whether there's a mask and gloves to seal something that's already leaking through your image. You’re ready to blink away tears at the feeling of your sinking heart, hands tensing and feeling like you’re holding the world's problems along with your own chained to your palms.

But to your surprise, he starts to shrug off his iconic leather jacket, before you can get a word in he passes it to you and puts it over your shoulders. “Its cold as hell tonigh’, what the hell are you wearing out here.” He says playfully with a chuckle as he looked over at you so the rhetorical question sinks in.

How the hell are you supposed to answer that?

“Uhhhhhhh..” You try to register the warm jacket now over you that had that lingering punk scent that a part of you wanted to steal genuine sniffs but you knew you couldn’t really other than subtle inhales, that scent so comforting for no reason beside the one who radiates it.

“I was at an.. ‘Important’ event but snuck out like usual.” You summarize as you adjust the jacket so you can put on the sleeves and snuggle into its warmth and scent.

His warmth and scent.

“So d’you wan’ to do the usual bullshi’ on rooftops or do you wan’ to jus’ want to fuck around Osborns buildings some more?” He asks with a grin in his voice as he lazily puts his long lanky arm around your waist like he did every night ‘platonically’, ready to tighten his hold the second you say yes for you two to swing wherever.

You smile and nod “Yeah no, I’m fine with whatever as long as it’s with you.” to which he happily shoots a web and you both begin swinging through the well lit streets of Camden, at least the part of town you both were in. The cold air soon felt a bit heavier, indicating the part of town less taken care of and more polluted. You two glide over several streets but Spiderpunk lowers and slows down around an alleyway, a familiar alleyway..

The Alleyway that started it all.

You could see the same gas station a bit down the street, bright and open. The same station where you had bought food for..

“Squaishy!” Spiderpunk greeted that same person as he let go of your waist and left you to come closer on your own accord instead of dragging you into the space, not knowing at all what has happened here for you. Little did Spiderpunk know that ‘Squaishy’ was the one who caused your tears that night. Squaishy seemed to be doing better but still with the worn out jacket but they were happy and glad to see Spiderpunk as they greeted each other with a handshake and small hug, A smile in Spiderpunk’s lenses. But Squaishy’s eyes darken as he looks over at you and recognizes your mask.

But Spiderpunk follows his gaze, not realizing the tension. “Squiashy! This is my friend, Emily.” he introduced as he put his hands on your shoulders and almost pushing you into the conversation.

A knowing amused smirk falls onto Squaishy’s lips as they raise their eyebrows, “Emily?” He echoed.

Fuck.

“I have to go.” You say abruptly before Squaishy can have a quip or comment about your name..

Or mentions that it isn’t your actual name.

Words couldn’t explain how Spider-punk looked as his head whipped to look in your direction as if you said something so appalling that it insulted his whole bloodline, “Wha’?” He asked as the lenses of his mask widened, looking almost like round ovals–but the important thing is that you suddenly feel his eyes burning into yours, as if he was shifting his attention onto you to not leave so soon. Squiashy’s smug expression shifts slightly when he notices how Spiderpunk when from seeming happy and in a good mood, to worried and uncertain.

“I was out on a walk.. You know, from where I escaped-slash-snuck out from, and I don’t want them noticing I’m gone or anything since I’m an ‘important factor’.” you say awkwardly, trying your best to say everything but nothing at the same time.

Hobie isn’t stupid though, he can always tell when there’s more to the story, especially now since your excuses are getting more vague and sloppy.

“I can take you back?” He offers, either wanting to spend more time with you or curious as to what you do or who you actually are. These half truths are starting to make Hobie more curious of the woman behind the balaclava every night. At his offer, trying to know more about you, not knowing that you aren’t the Emily you’re displaying yourself to be.

Emily is bold, playful, sarcastic, sweet, thoughtful and fun. She's the woman spiderpunk wants to hold close at night and would do anything to see her eyes below the mask smile.

But he didn't know the person who you have to keep hidden from him like how you keep ‘Emily’ from your father.

Y/n is quiet, keeps to herself, diffident, rich and spoiled. The woman who spiderpunk feels indifferent about beyond disdain and a grimace when he hears her, or the Osborn name in general.

“No, no. or.. Can you take me where you found me?” You request awkwardly with a small smile, hoping he’ll say yes, half knowing he will but won’t stop asking things. He’s as curious as a cat.. An adorable, tall, lanky punk-cat.

He nods and says a quick bye handshake with Squaishy and turns back to you, putting his arm around your waist firmly and holding your body against his then shoots a web, soon launching into the air and swinging, your arms and around his neck. Palpable tension beyond your face in the crook of his neck to shield your face from the cold air hitting you both. Tension now because of what even started this relationship..

His unanswered questions, and your half answers.

Once you arrive where Spiderpunk found you, when he sets you down he keeps a hand on your shoulder as if to keep you from leaving/running off. “So, would you mind telling me at least wha’ even’ you’re talking ‘bout?” He prompted as he looked into your visible eyes through the balaclava. It felt like he was looking into your soul, making your mouth go dry.

“..I mind? I’m- I’m sorry but I really do have to g-”

“Don’ start with that!” He cut you off with a scoff as he moves his hand off of your shoulder, letting you be able to go if you really wanted to, “You always have to end up disappearing, I understand your need to have your identity secre’, but at this point it's like you don’ trust me.”

He isn’t wrong but he isn’t right either. You do trust him, there's so much you know you have freedom of doubt in him but.. It's the one thing you can’t tell him about, the one thing that you can’t control and that you doubt he’d understand. The filthy name that comes after your first.

Osborn.

Tears make a glossy layer on your eyes, You’re stuck. On one hand, if you tell the truth, he won’t ever see you the same. On the other hand, If you still avoid it, you may slip up and he’ll find out the hard way.

“Not- not yet.” You whisper, “I’ll tell everything you want to hear, but I just can’t right now.” you murmur as you took off his jacket he lent you and passed it back to him before taking some steps back, as much as you didn’t want this argument to end on this sour note, you couldn’t risk anything going wrong with your father.

Spiderpunk watched with furrowed eyebrows under his mask as you went away, disappearing as you turned a corner. He cursed at himself under his breath as he put the leather jacket back on, a faint lingering fragrance of your perfume, conflicted thoughts and emotions circling his mind like a toy train. On one hand, he knows your boundaries and wants you to be comfortable and able to cry on his shoulder, on the other hand: He won’t let himself be manipulated and lied to, whether he's infatuated or not.

He shook his head and clasped his hands over his face.

“This is a breach of her privacy. This is a breach of her privacy, this is a breach of her-” He repeats in his mind as he shoots a web and runs up a building to arrive at its rooftop. He takes off his mask and stands by the edge as he looks out at the street you went down, his mind screaming at him and his heart telling him it's a bad idea.

“She won’t like that you followed her. She won’t trust you, you can just wait..” “But wait how long? What is so bad that she has to keep it from me? How long can she play me as the fuckin’ fool..” His mind debating against himself, but still looking out for you.

He spots you and jumps over buildings while running, his eyes on you to see where you’re going. What you’re doing. Why you are in such a hurry. Watching as you approach the venue, going towards the door you went out from. Osborn’s charity event.

It was dark but he saw your figure, the way your hands moved to first take off your gloves and shove them into your bag but something fell without you noticing, then your mask. It’s like Hobie was watching it in slow motion, your hands raising to the end of your mask and starting to raise it.

In a flash of awareness, he turned around completely before he saw your face. This wasn’t how he wanted it to happen, this isn't how he wanted to see the woman hidden behind that fabric, but the need to know was almost hurting his mind, but he remembered you dropped something so he put on his mask then jumped and webbed closer to where you were and strained his eyes looking at the ground to see what you dropped.

A gold bracelet with the names “Anne-Marie, Emily, Y/n.”

Spiderpunk read the names and recognized Emily of course, so it was clearly yours, he thought. But he also recognized the name of the offspring of the man he despised. He webbed back up to the building he was on earlier and took off his mask to inspect the bracelet a bit more.

Hobies gaze softened as he gently held the delicate gold bracelet in his hand, for as small and thin it was, it was heavy. It really was gold. Hobie didn’t know what to think. Who are you?

The Event ended eventually and he just watched everyone leave, blankly staring at Osborn and his daughter-

His daughter wearing the same thing you were. The same purse hung on your arm.

Hobie felt his heart almost drop.. The woman he wanted to keep safe and protect was the daughter of the man he wanted to protect everyone around them from. He clenched the bracelet in his hand so hard that he bent the gold ever so slightly with his mutated strength. He wanted to laugh at how badly you didn’t want him to figure anything out yet, scream into the sky until it shattered because of the betrayal, the anger, the hatred brewing, the hatred for the Osborn’s moving to ‘Emily’, a girl who he thought was someone humble, who he wanted to have by his side, in his arms, and in his bed. It hurt. The avoidant truths. The way that he couldn’t think straight anymore as his mind and hands were tense.

The car drove off from the venue where the Osborn’s were going home. Hobie was going to confront “Emily”, He couldn’t recognize them anymore. As if he was going to confront a stranger he used to know. He followed the car from afar until it parked, he waited by the forest beside your house, he was about to climb a random tree to get a better view without being seen, but his hand was met with some rough fabric, his first reaction was to clench and pull it down.

He sees that in his hand, is her backpack. The one he looked through naively having little to no idea that she wouldn’t have to be a drug dealer when she can easily buy whatever she wants whenever she wants.

A bedroom window lights up and it catches his attention, he thwips a web to the outside wall and quietly walks on the wall and peeks into the window to see you kneeling down beside your bed in front of a shoebox.

“How was the event, Emi’?” Spiderpunk asked sarcastically as he let himself in through the window, you flinched and eyes shot immediately towards him with your usually smiley and once gorgeous to him eyes as wide as glass dinner plates.

“What- what do.. Shit- I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you bu-” You began as you stood and began walking closer before he cut you off with his voice raised and clear distaste as he spoke to you. You’ve never heard genuine venom in his tone, he always spoke happily with the lenses of his mask beaming.. That was gone, all gone from his hateful gaze.

“Tell me what? That you’re part of a corporation thats forcing Millions of people in poverty? That you-”

“That I have nothing to do with!” You snap, years of verbal abuse from people who have always assumed the worst from you, and now it was even worse since he supposedly knew you internally. “Aren’t you someone who fights against stereotypes? Who fights against things that are unfair?”

“Don’ you dare. Thats differen’, you were actively Lying- Hiding the damn truth from me, Hearing me say all these things about Osborn- Your dad- Ugh.” He groaned while clasping his hand over his face, trying not to yell since he knew about your sensitivity towards being yelled at. “I have been nothing but caring towards you and it feels like you’ve stabbed me in the back.” he summarized, slowly taking off his mask to show his seriousness.. And to show that he still seems to trust you.

He felt betrayed, lied to, his trust was broken–yet.. He would tell you his plans, he would tell you which ones of Osborns buildings he was going to vandalize and on what days he planned to do it, but he’s never been caught.

He’s never been caught, you’ve never snitched.

You were there most of the time, you’ve had every chance to get him in trouble and caught, that means something.

Your expression softens, now wasn’t the time but he was handsome.. Stunning. His eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed while pinching the bridge of his nose, the scowl showed that he genuinely felt conflicted and you had to know the actual reason why. It almost hurts that you are being the cause of his frown instead of the reason of his smile.

You shake off the pained thoughts and continue as you step closer so he could look at you, “Can’t you see why I never told you? Look at how you’re reacting. You know me, or you at least know ‘Emily’, so what makes (y/n) any different?” you ask with a gesture of your hand, “I’m still the same girl who would spray paint with you, who’d come with you to put up art over my father’s buildings, the same girl you laughed with and the girl you held as she cried.” You tell him as your voice trembles with tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, vision already blurred from them pooling in your eyes, looking away before he could see the effect all of this is taking on you.

He's silent for a second, he wants to yell, he wants to talk, he wants to sob, he doesn’t know exactly what to do for a moment so he swallows his pride and interrupts you right before you were about to break the silence yourself.

“Because I loved you!” He spat as if he never wanted to admit it himself, “I loved the girl who’d spray paint with me,” Hobie takes a step closer to you this, “I loved the girl whose art I’d put up on Osborn’s buildings, and I loved..” He trailed off for a moment as he put his hand on your chin to force you to look at him gently, “..The same girl who laughed with me and who I held as she cried.”

Loved.

“Loved”..

“So what? Not anymore? Because of an ‘asshole’ who happens to be my father?” You ask as you pull back from his touch, upset at the fact that Hobie was blaming you for your dad’s actions, “it’s fucking unfair.” You added under your breath as the crybaby in you was coming back stronger for ever, now the frustration from that night and every hateful interaction you’ve had coming back full force.

“I.. don’t know.” He answered honestly with an empty chuckle as if his own internal turmoil was funny as he looked into your watering eyes, knowing full well he was causing them, and that knowledge felt like a drill to his heart.

The water in your eyes thickens as you feel like he’s slipping from your hands, the one person who saw you as a person at one point now seeing you like a monster like everyone else did, always compared to your dad by everyone else, it wasn’t new.. But this just hurt so much more. So much more.

And Hobie’s heart is torn, this wasn’t how he wanted to find anything out, this isn’t how anything was supposed to go, he never wanted to make you cry. He closes his eyes and takes a small breath once your face scrunches up while choking back a sob, remembering how affected you probably are in this moment, recognizing your own heartbreak as he thought of your words.

Unfair.

It was unfair what your father was doing, unfair how many innocent people like Squaishy now sleep in cold tents in abandoned areas just to not be killed due to the cold or by other not as nice vagabonds. Nothing was fair in this moment, no stars were aligned, no god that smiled upon them, no luck in a single charm..

At this point you were on the verge of fully breaking down at this, everything just went downhill in a matter of moments. But the second you let out a choke sob, Hobie knew what to do. You suddenly felt his hand on your jaw and he pulled you into a kiss, a passionate yet soft one. His plump lips and warm piercing against your surprised ones, you fully thought everything was over and here he was: Spiderpunk/Hobie brown, kissing you with his neck craned to accommodate your height and his other hand moving to your waist to hold your body flushed against his.

He was beginning to regret having kissed you at all since you weren’t reciprocating but those thoughts were wiped once he felt your hand move to the side of his neck and an eager response from your mouth. This felt right. Whether you were some masked street artist, The daughter of a sadistic sociopath, or simply (y/n) Osborn, and if Spiderpunk was some masked Vigilante, a punk squatter, or simply Hobie Brown, this was right.

Hobie was clearly more experienced with his kissing skills, considering the fact he probably had more than quadruple the social life you did: He at least probably had much more than double the sex life too. And it doesn’t take long for the repressed emotions, repressed love and the electric tension when you two swung through the city catches up to you two. Hobie’s tongue mixing into the kiss tentatively and his hand that was on your jaw snaking into your hair and keeping you close in an intimate yet not-forced way.

This feeling was intoxicating, finally having him close and his lips slotted in yours, fitting together like some kind of perfect pieces from different puzzles. Hobie advanced ever so slightly which made you take some steps back until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, he then gently pushed you back and climbed on top of you before pulling you into another deep kiss, but more greedy and ever so slightly wanton, and this change of pace made your heart begin to beat a bit more quickly with your lips hardly keeping up with his, his tongue dancing an expert tango and yours swayed a newbie ballet. He probably thought you had some kind of experience but you really didn’t, nobody dared get close to you emotionally and much less physically.

And its like alarms went off the second his hands lowered to your hips and thighs, close to the edge of the dress you had been wearing earlier at the stupid event earlier. You pulled out of the kiss and your hands almost slapped onto his in a haste to stop him, quickly muttering a quiet “Oh shit, sorry.” Under your breath as you rubbed his hands where your hand had landed on.

“You alrigh’?” He asked as his eyes looked into yours, ignoring your apology and focusing on why you had moved your hands to stop him so quickly, not wanting to move past your boundaries–he's not that kind of man, no matter how upset he was at you moments or however badly he wanted you in that moment. He was ready to put you first, you and your comfort first.[a]

“I.. I haven’t really done anything like this before.” You tell him bluntly yet a bit quietly as you averted your gaze in slight embarrassment, he was obviously a pro and an expert and here you were: Hardly able to know what to do with your tongue while making out with someone. This information clicked into Hobie’s mind and he nodded, “You don’ have to do anything you don’ wanna.” Hobie assured you as he gently put a hand to your cheek and made you look at him, his eyes boring into yours with raw concern and care.

“No no- it isn’t that I don’t want to..” Its that you don’t want to disappoint him or underwhelm him, but how the fuck do you tell him that after crying in front of him and literally disappointed him earlier when he learnt who you really were. “..I do want to, but.. I’m no model either.” You say half-jokingly to try to lighten the intense mood.

Hobie nodded again before leaning in and kissing you again, he didn’t really mind as long as you could express your limit, “Alrigh’, but if you need me t’stop, just say the word.” He reassured you while practically looking in your soul through your eyes.

He then leaned in and began kissing your neck, his hand moving to your waist while the other moved to your back and slowly began pulling down the zipper of your dress, the feeling of his touch and his lips on your neck like a kind of blue electricity that went all through you. The dress soon lowered to your waist, exposing your breasts that simply had nipple pads due to the dress having been one of cleavage, Hobie carefully peeled them off and set them aside onto your nightstand and began kissing down your collarbone with one hand already massaging your tit and pinching your nipple, his other hand working to lower the dress more. Over your abdomen, past your hips, down your thighs, and off your legs and body.

He carefully let his hands lower and gently hold the band of your fishnets and panties, but he paused as he awaited a yes or no from you, everything was going to be on your terms.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, breath slightly shaking and his hands were calloused yet soothing on your soft skin, but you wanted more and so you nodded in approval and soon enough–Your panties were gone too, your cunt fluttering once exposed to the cold air and Hobie’s hungry gaze. In a moment of self-consciousness your thighs press together, or at least you try to before Hobie stops you with his hands on your knees and easing them apart, not at all forcefully but just enough to show what he wanted.

“Do ya trus’ me?” He asked softly, the exact same way that spiderpunk did all those nights ago, his hand once that lingered too long on your hip now on your knees, showing yourself and your vulnerability.

“Never stopped trusting you.” You answered with a small approving nod.

And with that, Hobie began to pepper small kisses into the plushy flesh of your thighs and slowly inching closer to where you felt you needed him most. After what felt like hours, he finally reached the lips of your glistening pussy and his warm breath touching your puffy clit. He kissed it once before licking a stripe from your hole to your clit then latching his mouth suddenly to your bud, blissfully making out with your lips expertly like he was with your upper ones earlier.

“Oh.. shit..” You moan breathlessly with your hand knotting into his hair. His hand moves from holding you by the knee to keep your legs spread towards the hole of your pussy, easing in a finger that entered with not too much effort due to his spit and your wet arousal welcoming him. Yet your hips squirming due to the intrusion, making Hobie slow down his finger and focus on your cunt.

He slowly pumps a single finger in your pussy while licking his name letter by letter on your sensitive bundle of nerves.. H-O-B-I-E B-R-O-W-N. You quickly feel yourself get more sensitive and your hips squirm, unsure of how to react to this new sensation, his fingers reaching places you never could and much less stimulation at the same time in your hole as it is in your bundle of nerves.

You quickly come undone and your thighs almost press Hobie’s head between them, but his hand remains on your inner thigh to keep it open, lapping up your juices with his tongue flat on your cunt and his finger pumping in and out a little more before pulling it out of you and licking it clean. Something about this lewd display makes you clench around nothing, maybe it was the fact that he hardly took his eyes off of you once, studying your expression for any hesitance or regret.

He pulled up to show his raging hard-on, straining his jeans and creating a beautiful bulge. You watch as he fumbles with his belt and lowers his pants and boxers, his cock springing free and leaking beads of pre-cum, proudly standing eight inches at least, a silver Alberts piercing. He lazily strokes it a few times and aligns it lower to your sensitive virgin hole.

“Please.. Be gentle?” You request softly as you put your hand on his abdomen as if to make sure he had stopped and listened. He nodded before leaning down and kissing your lips slowly and passionately as he slowly eased himself into you with his hands moving to your hips. You felt a slight sting or burn while he pushed himself inside, yet his lips stayed on yours for you to be able to keep your focus and sounds averted while tasting yourself on his tongue. His hips come to halt once he’s fully inside, giving you time to adjust as he separated his lips from yours and waited for your green light patiently.

At the second nod of your head, he slowly pulled out and went in once again, creating a steady rhythm with his hips with pretty groans and praises falling from his lips.

“Fuck.. pretty cun’ sucking me in- tigh’ as hell.. Shi’.” He mumbled beautifully into the crook of your neck while his hips began rutting more into you, as if desperately chasing for more with his piercing stroking your spongey G-spot and his high.

You feel yourself clench around him as your orgasm washes over you once again, Hobie quickly following suit, Pulling out and stroking himself a bit more before finishing and cumming on your abdomen, his hands quickly moving to the sides of your head to stop himself from falling onto you and instead falling onto the space on the bed beside you. He laid on his side with a protective arm around your waist and held you close.

“Emily fuckin’ Osborn.” He mumbled almost to himself as he looked up at your fucked out expression, a small layer of sweat on your pretty face, normally he had fantasized of whoever you were under the mask being an expert at everything including dick and cunt, meanwhile here he was laying beside the daughter of the man he always swore to destroy.

“...Is now a good time to tell you that Emily is my moms name?”

“..wha’?”

___________________________

★| Taglist!:

@craziblondi @fodmdk123 @vinxernica @muffinlovesfiction @jane-3043 @coffeeandtealol @alecmores @azuurr3 @nyumei @noharaaa @alisoncdariel @dailyhobiebrown @malatuadimadre @ziarah @i-want-to-be-hit-by-a-car @malyjohn @horrorcore2002 @jess-fae @bluupen

@eyesxxyou

______

I’m really sorry if this is bad/underwhelming/not as good as the last one, I was really rushed and I felt bad for not getting this out sooner :(((

I love y’all so much <3

#across the spiderverse #spiderman #hobie brown #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #insuke #whats in a name #part 2 #part 2/3 #im finally done

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sophiesonlinediary · 2 months

Text

LYRA KANE X GRAYSON HAWTHORNE HC

(these are all from how i think she’ll be and just from my ideas in general)

★ grayson matches his tie to her outfits everyday

★ she owns a motorcycle and teaches him how to drive it

★ she messes up his hair at the end of the day to tease him

★ he'll go out to swim and she'll eventually join him and sit in a pool chair waiting for him to get out. sometimes even falling asleep, but grayson always carries her upstairs when that happens

★ they can talk to each other about ANYTHING

★ lyra doesn't like to admit it but she was super nervous when she met his brothers

★ and on that note grayson wrote a whole paper on conversation starters before meeting her mom and step dad

★ when graysons working too much lyra walks in and steals his papers or shuts his laptop and says he can get back to work after he takes a break

★ they travel everywhere together

★ lyra runs her fingers through his hair when he's falling asleep

★ grayson runs a finger from her waist to her hip when they're in an event just for her to know that he's their with her at all times

★ they have each other as their wallpapers

★ lyra had to take grayson shopping for an entire weekend to give his wardrobe a 'makeover'

★ neck kisses and back hugs when the other is stressed <3

★ grayson runs with lyra in the morning and they talk about what they have planned for the day

★ lyra gets really close to the brothers but especially nash since he's the one with all the embarrassing baby grayson stories

★ jameson will say something embarrassing about gray but lyra tries her hardest not to laugh but gets really red and eventually gives in

★ little stolen glances from across the room any chance they get

★ they immediately know when the others mood has changed

★ lyra does not know how to swim and grayson teaches her

★ grayson picks up her hair in a ponytail when it gets in her face

★ lyra absolutely bashes on emily the first time that she finds out about the double kiss plus dating thing

that felt like a good note to end on i wasn't gonna make this so long but ideas really came to me hope y'all enjoy 😻

#sophie's diary entry #grayson hawthorne x lyra kane #grayson hawthorne #phone girl x grayson #lyra kane #phone girl #the hawthorne vault #the hawthorne brothers #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #the inheritance games #the grandest game

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hotpinkboots · 8 months

Note

LISTEN LISTEN

Headcanons to how Emily (Corpse bride) would react to GN!darling drawing her? Like having several pages just full of drawings of Emily

I love her so much and the movie <33

~~~~~~~~~~

~𝔈𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶 w/a Darling That Draws Her Headcanons~

~~~~~~~~~~

YES YES YES. PLEASSSSSE REQUEST WITH EMILY MORE OFTEN I LOVE WRITING HER🙏🙏🙏

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝔈𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶

★★★★

~She is completely and utterly whipped for you.

~Knowing you're just as completely and utterly whipped for her makes her giddy and excited.

~Expect a lot of kisses and hugs because of this.

~Sometimes, she can grow a bit insecure about herself- she knows she's very pretty, but her eye, the decay, the visible bones, ect. can make her overthink about her looks sometimes.

~Seeing you draw her so often fully convinced her she's pretty.

~Will happily pose for you if you ask her to.

~But she might get a bit giggly and amused, expect her to move sometimes without thinking, or talk while you're trying to paint or sketch her.

~Not that she talks a LOT, but she gets excited over the attention you give her.

~Her Maggot may tease her around and try to make her feel self-conscious, so Emily may feel silly posing at first.

~Hasn't gotten her portrait done in years, so once she gets used to staying still for a pose again she's the perfect model.

~She's a very lovely model!

~If she ever found that you've been drawing her already even before she knew about it, she'll feel SO touched.

~Might even get a bit emotional about it!

~Very often compliments your skills and brags about how good you are.

~Now she purposely tries to look extra pretty in case you're around with your sketch pad.

~Which sometimes can lead to her doing something silly and clumsy by accident because she's trying too hard LOL

~May need a reminder that she's pretty when she's simply existing, that she doesn't need to TRY to look pretty.

~She loves having an artist for a partner!

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SHE IS SUCH A COMFORT CHARACTER AHH 😭

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Request Guidelines!

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Join my Discord Server! There you can talk about my fanfiction, roleplay, chat, watch movies and listen to music with other fandom nerds!:

~~~~~~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

#emily #emily corpse bride #emily x reader corpse bride #corpse bride #corpse bride x reader #tim burton #tim burton movies #emily x reader #corpse bride emily #corpse bride fic #pink's fanfic

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stereor4t · 3 months

Text

lesbian movies I've seen so far (review based on my tastes)

I'm going to give my opinion of the lesbian movies I've seen so far and I'm going to give them a score from 1 to 5 stars :3 it may contain some spoilers

Bound(1996)

For the year this movie was made, I was actually surprised by the END of it(fuck the obsession with killing the protagonist). I didn’t really have much faith in it by how it stars, but man, I was so surprised, I loved it, be gay do crime. ★★★★☆

Gia(1998)

God, this movie is my new roman empire, I didn’t know about Gia’s story, but the ending of the movie DESTROYED ME. the scene where shes talking with Linda and she says: now we have all the time in the world, I was so moved by it, I loved it. It’s currently one of my favorite movies.★★★★★

Lost and delirious(2001)

ugh shakespearean shit, this movie touches more than one of us when it comes to the experience of liking girls. I liked it but I felt like there was a lot of wasted potential that could’ve made it great, tbh i just wanted Paulie to be happy; the fact the Piper Perabo is in it helps the score too. ★★★☆☆

D.E.B.S.(2004)

ITS THE BEST FUCKING MOVIE IN THE WORLD, GOD. I actually hated this movie before watching it ‘cause I thought it was some dumb comedy, but god, when I gave it a chance it BLEW ME AWAY. If you want to see some lesbian spies enemies to lovers shit watch debs. ★★★★★

My summer of love(2004)

Personally, I HATED this movie kjj, I didn’t really get ANYTHING at all, like it felt like everything was just too rushed??? like when did they even fall in love lol? Gets points just for Emily Blunt. ★★☆☆☆

Imagine me & you(2005)

Piper Perabo again and Lena Heady THE WOMAN. This movie is ART, my fav movie, it’s beautiful, comfort movie af. The true don’t let your husband keep you from meeting your future wife. ★★★★★

Loving Annabelle(2006)

This movie was made for all of us who once liked a teacher or profesor. I liked it quite a lot, but I feel like seize it’s true potential. Personally, I choose to think that the alternative ending it’s the true one lol. ★★★☆☆

Bloomington(2010)

Again for us that like fantasizing about our teachers. I like this movie but again, I feel like they didn’t really make the most of it jskdja annoying af bitching about the same but yeah, it bothered me. Anyway, i liked the movie, and I didn’t like the ending at all,I felt bad for the poor teacher :c. ★★★☆☆

A perfect ending(2012)

I know a lot of people hate this movie and think it’s shit, but I personally love it lol. Idk I remember that when I watched it it got me super emotional and i liked it a lot, dont care what anyone says to me it’s a good movie. ★★★☆☆

The girl king(2015)

★☆☆☆☆

Didn’t like it at all, boring af, i didn’t really get it, idk, i was expecting more. ★☆☆☆☆

First girl i loved(2016)

Im fond of this movie, it was one of the first ones I saw, the ending just made a me a bit frustrated, but I liked it, Brianna Hildebrand with a wig funny as hell. ★★★☆☆

Disobedience(2017)

Rachel Weisz and McAdams DAMN. Great movie, I liked it in all aspects. Although the ending wasn’t what I expected I still liked it. ★★★★★

Tell it to the bees(2018)

Mmm I think this movie is kinda meh, like it’s okay but I feel like it lacks something for me to like it, tho I didn’t get the ending, like I don’t understand the decisions each one took. ★★☆☆☆

Ammonite(2020)

Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan!!!! I liked it but I didn’t love it, I never got to understand if Mary hated or loved Charlotte. The ending got me frustrated!!! ★★★☆☆

Crush(2022)

The kind of movie you gotta watch after Gia, I liked it I thought it was silly, like very much teenage romcom sort of shit, like the Kissing Booth but for lesbians. ★★★☆☆

You can live forever(2022)

I think this is a great movie, interesting story, I wasn’t expecting the whole ending sequence, what Marike says to Jamie destroyed me, in my head theyre the young version of the Disobedience ones. ★★★★★

Booksmart(2019)

GREAT MOVIE, very entertaining and funny, I liked it quite a lot, it’s perfect to watch it with friends. Gigi is just like me fr best character ever. ★★★★★

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buglovingbagel · 4 months

Text

How Stardew Valley villagers would react to you coming out as nonbinary!!

(Or trans, but I wrote it with nonbinary in mind, IM PROJECTING /lh)

All my favorite villagers, not just the bachelors, but I start with them. :3

Some of these were really hard to write for, especially with characters I don't know all that well 😭

THESE ARE ALL HEADCANNONS, PEOPLE. I'm aware not everything is super in character. I'm also aware I use he/him for Krobus despite headcannoning that he's genderless, pronouns ≠ gender

★

Maru: You had blurted the knowledge to her once while you were both talking at a bench in town. While initially stunned, she hugged you and beamed since you trusted her with such information, overjoyed. Eventually, she offered to get Harvey to use your preferred pronouns and change how you're referred medical records.

Haley: Smile and nod strategy. She doesn't know what half the words you said meant, but after some explaining, she offered to take you clothes shopping in ZuZu city next time she went to get something you'd be more comfortable in. She even rifled through her own clothing collection and gave you anything you'd be comfortable in, snapping a photo to save the memory. If there's one thing this woman could do, it was fashion, and you've never felt more comfortable looking in the mirror after your shopping trip.

Emily: She admits that she already knew, vaguely. Something about spirits guiding her to the conclusion, but she appreciated that you told her yourself just as much either way. She offered to tailor your clothes to be more comfortable and was patient and kind when you declined. Whenever you were worried about your transition or got into your own head about it, she meditates with you, assuring you everything would be okay, and lord is she convincing.

Abigail: Her response is pretty much just "cool!" She rants about a game character who has the same identity, tacks on a thank you at the end of the conversation, and continues like normal. This changes nothing for her at all, she never found your gender significant, just knew that you were a close friend and nothing like your gender "changing" would change that, ever.

Leah: She had made a sculpture representing her experience with femininity and, after asking for your opinion on it, you came out to her, hoping it wouldn't change her view of her feedback. She seemed overjoyed about whatever you said of her sculpture, good or bad, absorbed into your response and hardly even addressing that you came out until after the in depth feedback. She was red in embarrassment, apologized, and thanked you for trusting her.

Penny: She holds your hand the moment she senses you're nervous and listens carefully. She eventually admits that she doesn't fully understand, but respects you either way, smiling reassuringly and using whatever pronouns or name you choose. She doesn't use them in front of Pam unless you explicitly say you've come out to Pam.

Sam: My poor boy. He couldn't smile and nod as well as Haley, visibly confused the whole time. He needed multiple explanations on some words and had multiple questions to ask, some of which may have come off ignorant if it wasn't sorta hilarious to hear. It took a long time of you both fiddling with things around his room while Sam asked and you answered any info he needed to understand. Afterwards, he seemed thankful and stoked the farmer had taught him something new, excited to understand you further.

Sebastian: He froze immediately. He had been in his room with you when you admitted it to him, unsure when else would be a good time, and the room was filled with awkward silence. Eventually, he just said "cool" and mentally kicked himself in the leg for being so damn quiet. You were visibly nervous, so he clarified before you left for the night that he fully accepted you and his silence was from his own awkwardness and worry, it had nothing to do with the farmer. He gave you a rare, drawn out hug before you were out the door.

Shane: You're both drunk (Shane more than you) at the saloon when you let it slip. Shane initially seemed surprised you'd tell him something that personal at all, and despite not admitting it, he's touched by getting to know you more. He doesn't drink any more that night, heading home early in a half-successful attempt to remember the conversation. It's one of the few things that makes him come to the realization you trust him, you're not just some surface level acquaintance.

Elliot: You tell him while you're both at the docks and he doesn't seem all that surprised. He gives you some inspiring, poetic advice out of fucking nowhere about how, no matter the identity, your body is a piece of art and is painted by you and you only. He kisses the back of your hand after you two are done talking and later, in his cabin, he changes your dead name and old pronouns to whatever you had chosen as your new title in any poems he included you in.

Alex: ... homophobia in his eyes /j

Alex doesn't understand. He tries to, but he has a hard time wrapping his head around what causes someone to feel a different gender than the one assigned at birth. He respects you anyways and respects your pronouns, occasionally asking a question you've heard about a hundred times in ZuZu city, some of which making you laugh (he lights up in embarrassment every time you do.) Eventually, he decides he doesn't need to understand everything to still love and respect you. After enough time, he has no more questions left to ask, and he feels closer to the farmer.

Harvey: He's surprised at first, but is happy you told him. He changes how you're referred to in your medical records from now on and finds no problem using your new name and pronouns. Every now and then, during check ups, he asks you whether or not you'd be interested in anything that could help you medically transition, and has the same reaction whether you accept or decline. He just doesn't want you to be too nervous to ask him, and he knows a trustworthy doctor out in ZuZu city. He offers you a contact to an online therapist when you complain about gender dysphoria as well as his own undying support.

That's all the bachelors :3

Masterlist of other villagers included: Clint, Dwarf, Jas and Vincent, Krobus, Linus, Pam, Willy, Wizard.

Clint: You tell him while you're both at the saloon. He pretty much just says "oh, okay", and moves on. He respects your pronouns, and also googles "not-offensive trans joke" about a hundred times on Google to tell silly dad jokes later. (The search history is 100% funnier than the jokes.)

Dwarf: Silly guy. While purchasing bombs from him, you let him know you're changing how you wanna be referred to. The dwarf shrugs and gives you your bombs and you both complain about humans unwillingness to understand those that aren't exactly like them. Turns out gender in the monster world is far less complicated and they just do whatever the fuck they want; another rift between monsters and humans that ends up drawing you and the dwarf closer.

Jas and Vincent: Jas is very kind and Vincent is a little shit. Penny had said it may be a good idea to tell both kids at once to refer to the farmer differently with Penny supervising, so that's exactly what they did. Jas smiled and said "okay!" before returning to whatever she was doing before, referring to the farmer how you wanted her to (she occasionally slips up, but she's trying and that's what counts.) Vincent is confused how that even works. He asks you how you figured it out, what happened to make you change, how you can be born as one thing and be another, etc. Some of his questions are hard to answer, simply sounding silly. Eventually, Vincent shrugs and goes "that makes sense," even though he forgets any knowledge he gained within the week.

Krobus: Krobus doesn't really care. He's already genderless, he understands anything you have to say about it and accepts it gracefully. He's unphased, does business as usual, and when you two are closer, asks if humans react poorly when you tell them. You explain the diversity of human interactions and Krobus absorbs the information, gives his condolences, and gripes that humans are too quick to jump to hatred sometimes.

Linus: Somehow, the man knows what everything you said meant despite not having wifi and hardly ever talking to anyone. He's chill as fuck and you share a meal or foraged berries and fish cooked over a fire while you tell him, and he encourages you to share experiences, tell stories by the fire about how it's affected your life. You go home feeling lighter. (I LOVE LINUS!!!!)

Pam: Once again, you're telling someone about it in the saloon. You had just gifted her a beer while you told her that you'd be going by a different title. She seemed mildly annoyed, if anything. Of course, she didn't disagree, but she sighed into her drink, admitting she's gonna forget it every now and then. You assure her it's alright as long as she tries and that you'll remind her, and her annoyance leaves her. She stops referring to you as her "guy/gal" and refers to you as "buddy", continuing to clink your drinks together every time you buy her one and chug as if it were a competition.

Willy: This poor man. You tell him while you're both fishing on the dock and he nods slowly, mulling over the information in his mind. Carefully, he asks, "like a clown fish?" It catches you off guard and draws a laugh out of you before you clarify that no, no your gender is not like a clown fish. You have to help him understand most of what you said and his brows furrowed while taking in the info. You two stopped talking whenever one had to reel in a fish so that you both could focus. He gives you the nickname "snook", and after looking it up, a snook is a fish with no clear gender and known for being tough. (I love him so much 😢😢)

Wizard: Wizard, much like Emily, tells you he knows. Apparently, there's even a spell for things like this, and he immediately offers to perform it for you. He had automatically assumed you'd say yes, explaining that it changes your body to be whatever gender who align with. If you say yes, he provides it for you expecting nothing in return, claiming that magic should help people and if you end up more comfortable, then he's fulfilling his duty as a friend. If you decline, he's surprised, immediately asking "why not?" You explain that you're already comfortable in your body, you don't feel the need to physically transition to align with your mind because you already love your body and mind. Slowly, he nods, and apologized for coming off too strong. He empties his cauldron, though he's a bit upset he's dug himself a hole having to waste materials, and sends you something small in the mail the next day as a better apology.

LESSGOOOOO. I love Pam, wizard, Willy, and Linus, I do NOT care. Anyone I couldn't really think of anything for I didn't write, but I tried my best to include all the bachelors. You can probably tell in some of them that I struggled. I have favorites. 🤭

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plenty-lost-minds · 2 years

Text

drive me crazy

spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: smut, p in v, enemies to lovers, riding, semipublic, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it besties), pull out method, mentions of gore (talk of past case), word count: 3.1k

Spencer Reid knew just how to piss you off. He knew just what buttons to press to incite anger. After a year of built tension and feelings confessed in a small car in the middle of the night, it leads to other things.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

There are three things certain after an official year of working in the BAU. One, you were practically built for the job. Two, the coffee machine in the office was terrible.

Three, you hated Spencer Reid.

The boy genius had done many things over the year to justify this hatred. Whether it was refusing to accept the fact you were clearly right about something, getting coffee for everyone in the office except you, or constantly striving to prove himself better then you, he always found a way to make your skin crawl.

You had joined the team along with Emily Prentiss, Agent Hotchner having had already approved our entry to replace Elle Greenaway when Emily Prentiss was also pushed into the team. After some adjustments, the team had settled with seven members.

Quickly after joining, Spencer had something against you. Despite your attempts at kindness, he always found a way to dig into your scalp and pluck any patience you had in you.

The first case you’d worked with the team had been a hard one.

Eight 13 year old girls in Florida had been stabbed and dumped on the side of different highways. They had laceration marks on their wrists and ankles, showing that they’d been kept tied somewhere. The unsub would keep their victims for three days. The part that had thrown everyone off was the fact that every victim was found with their hair cut off and were placed in pajamas post mortem.

At first, the initial profile pointed to a preferential offender but you’d suggested the team keep their minds open because something about the profile felt off to you.

After the discovery of more evidence, you’d concluded and presented to the team the the unsub was in fact a women and the profile was incorrect.

Spencer was quickly at your throat.

He’d argued that the violent M.O. did not in anyway point to a woman and the case was clearly and simply just a hyper specific offender.

Due to Spencers resistance, the team subtly sided with him, continuing to proceed searching for a man.

When the team had unknowingly talked to the unsub in order to find the man who was the current suspect, it led to her almost killing the kid she was currently holding, and the rest of the team decided to take a look at your perspective.

That had led to the arrest of the true unsub. After that, the team quickly trusted your input. Well, everyone but Spencer.

Now, at a restaurant, the entire team was celebrating yours and Emilys year BAU anniversaries. After Derek and Penelope dragged Spencer to the dinner, it was sure to be an interesting night.

“You know kid, you’ve sure made a presence on this team, even after just a year.” Gideon told her.

“You think? Sometimes it feels like there’s never anything i could do to feel like im a part of it.” You responded.

“You mean Spencer?” He he said, more like an accusation than a question.

You smiled at him, implicating his correctness to him. He laughed slightly and looked across the long table at the boy they spoke of. He sat in between Derek and Penelope, struggling with a pair of chopsticks.

“He’s intimidated by you.” Gideon said.

You shook your head, denying his allegation. “No, i think he just hates me.”

“No. His behavior around you is strange. You say he hates you but he subconsciously looks for you. When he’s next to you, he leans into you just enough to not be hate. You intimidate him and yet he looks up to you.”

You barked out in laughter, stifling enough to not draw attention. “Im sorry Gideon but that ridiculous. He’s a living search engine. He’s not intimidated by me.”

“Why do you say that. Your not any less capable then him. Sure you don’t have an eidetic memory and all but out of all of us, on paper you’re right next to him when it comes to education and intelligence. You’ve done plenty enough in your career for him to be intimidated by you.” Gideon said nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

You paused, your grip on your fork steady and your eye pasted onto your plate. Gideon turned to talk to Hotch who sat on his other side.

As you ate your food, he hairs on the back of your neck stood. Your eyes flickered from your plate and up, scanning the table to see whose eyes were caught on you.

You huffed a breath of air from your nose when your eyes met the devil you spoke of.

His eys didn’t flicker or waver from yours. His face was unreadable and slightly hostile. You found his gaze to be a challenge, you the opponent.

You settled your fork besides your half eaten plate and leaned back against your seat. You crossed your hands over your chest defensively, shielding from his threatening eyes.

What is he thinking, you asked yourself.

Suddenly, he broke the eye contact and turned to the tipsy Penelope besides him and chatted away like nothing just happened.

From then on, the dinner was simple and happy. After a few drinks and painfully long good byes, everyone went their separate ways.

As you stood outside in the cool fall night, your nose and cheeks pinked with the bitting chill of the air. You tightly wrapped your thick coat around your body, ducking your head to attempt to avoid the cold.

As walked to your car you thought about the past year. About the things you’d seen and felt in the past year at the famous BAU. The horrors your eyes had witnessed were beyond you’d imagined. This job was not made for the sensitive. The images haunted you in you sleep and it never left your mind.

But, the job wasn’t all bad. You’d met your best friend, Emily after the two of you joined together, sticking to one another as the newbies. You’d helped families and caught the monsters that lurked our crowds. But sometimes, it seemed like it was never going to end.

When you reached your car and sat down, you put your key into the ignition and turned.

The depressing whine of the engine made your heart drop. You tried over, and over, and over again. In sterling and removing the key over and over.

Fuck Fuck Fuck you thought. In a burst of anger, you hit the steering wheel again and again, becoming desperate and irritable.

You snatched your puse from the passengers seat and stood out of the car, slamming the door slightly more aggressively than you intended. You leaned on the door and threw your head back and took a breath.

You were about a 30 minute drive from your house, it was late at night and your phone battery was lower than you would’ve liked.

“What did the car do to you?” A certain voice called out.

Oh not now, you thought.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, turning my head to look at the boy standing a few feet from me.

“I was walking to my car and i saw you beating the shit out of yours.” Spencer said, a snarky smile on his face.

“Wont turn on. Been meaning to go get a new one but I think with our job its impossible to find the time.” You said, not knowing why you felt the need to converse with him.

You sighed deeply and dug into your purse and dug out your phone. at this hour, there had to at least be one text available.

“Well, night Reid.” You said, beginning to walk past him. You heard him sigh as you passed. After you’d made it a few feet, he tuned and called for you, stopping you in your tracks.

“I cant in good conscious leave you here.” He said, looking everywhere but at you.

“And that means?” You pressed.

“And that means im offering you a ride. your place isn’t that far off of my way.”

You paused and looked at him. You weighed your options.

Any other person would say it wasn’t a choice. That it was obvious getting in a car with him is better than finding a taxi. But you’re not any other person. So you hesitated.

On one side, taking him up on his offer would mean less time in this cold, no money spent, and even though Spencer and you may not be the best of buddies, it was are with him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, no matter how much it seemed like he wanted to.

“Fine.” You said quickly.

His eye seemed to widen, slightly surprised.

“What you think I was going to chose to stay out here?” you said sarcastically.

“I guess not.” He mumbled.

The walk to his car was silent and tense. Like there was a bubble surrounding the two that slowly leeched of any oxygen, depriving them from their breath.

Finally they reached the car and got in. You were almost scared to move, afraid even the slightest twitch would incite anger. Spencer turned on the car and quickly went off. In your peripheral vision, your could see Spencer slightly turn his head towards you, catching a look or two. You pretended to not notice and look straight ahead.

It was too quiet.

You earned forward to turn on the radio, the static of the radio station filling the car. You flipped through the stations until you landed on a soft pop station. The words of the song got lost in the air, the gentle flow of the music making the tension in you release slightly.

As you looked out the window, you hard the statin suddenly change. when you turn your head you see Spencer skipping through the stations.

“That was a good song.” You said in a matter of factory tone.

“No it isn’t.” He responded.

“Can you at least let the song finish?” She asked.

“No.” Was all he said.

You remained staring at him was an expression of utter disgust. He looked at you, his eye flickering between your expression and the road.

“What is your fucking issue with me?” You suddenly yelled, slightly louder than intended.

“I dont know what you’re talking about.” He responded.

You barked out in a humorless laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You sat staring at him, almost as if you were expecting him to actually answer that. Spencer felt heat bubble in his cheeks at the confrontation.

“Pull over.” You instructed firmly.

“What? No.” He snapped back.

“PULL OVER!” You yelled back.

Following your orders, the boy pulled into the closest parking spot on the road.

“Every single day from the second i joined the BAU you’ve acted like a fucking pretentious, rude son of bitch and i don’t fucking know why. I have never done anything to try to hurt you or direct malice. And yet you still treat me like shit. You are a grown man and you need to fucking resolve this or else-“

You were cut off by the last thing you thought you’d be cut off by.

His lips.

They were on yours.

You sat frozen at his extremely unexpected response.

He backed away, eyes soft and almost guilty. Fear was etched in his face, especially as he looked at your utterly shocked face.

Stuttering to get any words out, your hands gravitated to the car door,searching for a handle.

“Y/n-“ Spencer pleaded, seeing your body was prepared to flee.

When your hand found the handle, there wasn’t a second of hesitation to swing the door open, you almost falling out with it.

You stepped out and stood on the empty pavement. The chill of the air hit you, the shock paired with a freeze.

“Y/n.” Spencer called as he got out of the car and walked around it to you.

“Y/n im so sorry i don’t k-“

“Is that why you’ve been rude to me? Some little schoolboy strategy of getting the girl?” She interrupted. “Cause you have some fucking crush on me?”

“Its not a crush, y/n. Its not some stupid crush. I- I cant handle this y/n. Attaching onto somebody. From the moment i met you, you were smart, and kind, and beautiful and i got scared to attach. It doesn’t excuse how terrible I’ve treated you and im so sorry for that. And the way i just handled this situation wasn’t my best moment.” He explained, holding her elbows the entire time.

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of his reason but you wanted to keep yelling at him for his harmful manner. But most of all, you wanted to kiss him.

Oh how the boy knew to press all your nerves, but sometimes, they were the wrong nerves.

There was no denying, even the rest of the team noticed the carnal tension between the two. The arguing voices were more like pleads of the desperate.

Yes, his sharp stabs at your ego surely ignited rage, but, when the rage is coming from a too slick smirking pretty boy towering over you, the rage sometimes evolved to something else.

So, you decided to take a leap and listen to your head. Now, your head was telling you to take the puppy-eyed boy in front of you and teach him just how terrible he was.

Gripping onto his face with both hands, you took the lunge and caught his lips to yours.

To your surprise, he returned it with the same passion and confidence.

Now standing below the dim streetlight, the only warmth between two bodies filled with unresolved issue, everything felt ten times stronger.

Spencers hands found their way over your shoulders, on your back, wandering fingers falling to you hips, squeezing just enough to pull a whimper from your lips.

The noise flipped a switch on the all to ready Spencer. He pushed his hips onto you, leaning you onto the car.

“We’re closer to my house.” You said in between desperate breaths.

“Not close enough.” He said before dipping down and opening the car door behind you and with on hand on your lower back, bringing you forward.

Catching what he was insinuating, you turned and bent over to lean the chair all the way back. While you did, you pressed your backside onto Spencers crotch, using your position as an advantage to tease. If you weren’t going insane, you could swear you heard him whine.

Expecting you to lay inside first so he could be on top, he was surprised when you grabbed his shirt and pushed him in first. But, he wasn’t about to question you.

When he laid down, he stayed on his elbows looking at you with a smile of excitement. You looked at him as you undid you took off your coat, tossing it over him onto the drivers seat.

You ducked in the car, straddling his hips, one knee on each side. You shut the door and turned down the heater.

“Are you ok. It kind of confined in here.” He said, his hands going to the sides of your thighs.

“Don’t worry about me pretty boy.” You said, leaning down and kissing him.

His hands slid up from your thighs and under your dress, both hands flat on your ass.

You began to slightly grid your hips right over the imminent bulge tenting on his pants. With a tilt of your hips, you grinded over your clit.

You moaned into his mouth, which he replied with his own.

He whimpered at the pressure your movements had on his dick. You repeated the actions, slowing down and moving painfully slow.

“Fuck y/n, please.” He mumbled into your lips.

You slowed your hips even more, almost halting. Spencer tried to move his hips, but your hands pressing down on his pelvic area revenged him.

“God.” He groaned, his head pressing down into the seat.

“Does it hurt?” You asked.

“Y-yes.” He sputtered.

“Good.” You responded.

You sat back up straighter and brought your hands to the button of his pants, undoing them and lifting your self enough to push them down. His boxers had a wet stain of his precum on the grey fabric.

“Y/n please.” He begged and you palmed him over the boxers.

“I like it when you beg.” You laughed lightly.

You pressed down slightly harder on his boner, earning a whimper.

Your own eagerness began to make it difficult to continue teasing. You pulled down his boxers, his hard dick springing out.

You stroked him a few times as you positioned yourself.

“What do you want baby.” You purred, holding yourself above him.

“You.” He groaned, hands flying to your waist, encouraging you to lower on him.

You followed his pleads. You moved your panties to the side and sunk into him, moaning out and supporting yourself with one hand on his chest and another on the window.

A string of murmurs spilled out of his mouth as you lowered, putting a smile on your face. He returned you with one of his own, shaking his head to get hair out of his face.

You began to move, bouncing on his cock. Moans and whimpers filled the car, your movements making him hit your sweet spot.

“Just like that.” He moaned, his hands remaining on your hips.

You slightly leaned forward to avoid hitting your head on the roof of the car. The lean helped him go deeper, making you call out.

“Spencer.” You panted in between kisses. “Im close.” You said, acknowledging the knot forming in your lower abdominal.

“Me too.” He whimpered. One of his hands dragged down from your hip down to your etching core. His thumb found your clit immediately, tracing circles. The stimulation brought you over the edge. Your movements became inconsistent and slowed.

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, sprouting from below your stomach.

“Im gonna-“ Spencer muttered, moving your hips off of him. You followed his directions and flopped onto the drivers seat quickly. Right when you came off of him, he finished with a twitch of his body, his cum pooling onto the part of is stomach that was revealed by his lifted shirt.

You watched him there, laying and panting, his eyes hooded and his shirt messy. The image brought a smirk to your face. He turned his head towards you.

“What?” He asked, noticing your amusement.

“Nothing. Just you look very… Amicable right now.”

You leaned over the center console and kissed up his neck. When you reached his ear, you bit it gently.

“My place is less than five minutes from here.”

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rippersz · 1 year

Note

Miranda Priestly and f Reader. Reader gets in between an altercation between Miranda and Stephen. She later tells Miranda "I'll never let anyone talk to you like that again"

𝙰 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

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(Fem!Reader x Miranda Priestly) (Pining) (TW: Abusive language)

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“Oh give me a break! You don’t have to make up excuses to try and salvage my ego, Miranda!”

The minute you walked in, you knew something was wrong.

The townhouse air in the evening was usually still and quiet, but the stomping footsteps on the second floor provided a tension that made you pause in the foyer. Stephen was home, you realized. His weird manly cologne filled your lungs, nearly bringing tears to your eyes with how strong it was. Almost a year as Miranda’s assistant, spending time around her husband at least once or twice, and you still couldn’t get used to his smell. Probably because every little thing about Stephen was either utterly boring or terribly annoying. Emily said it was both, but she only expressed that when he called so frequently that Miranda told her to instantly send them to voicemail. ‘If he has something important to say, he’ll leave a message’ but every time he did, it was just a stream of complaints.

If you were in his shoes, something you didn’t think about often because why would you, then you knew you wouldn’t take her attention for granted. She gave it when she could and a loving partner would understand that, and such understanding would lead to a lack of tension, and a lack of tension would result in more of her recognition. Or that’s what you thought. Again- not that you thought about it frequently of course - cuz that would just be silly and unrealistic and strange because she was your boss and she was the most emotionally unavailable woman you knew and even though she loved her daughters, her love for her partners was different and-

“I can’t go one day without them shooting looks at me- like- like I’m some dog! Probably wondering where my keeper is!” His voice echoed upon every floor, making you wince as you slid the Book into its assigned place.

Evidently, they hadn’t heard you come in. They should have been expecting you; at least Miranda should have, but it was easy to lose track of time during the winter months. It seemed to move so quickly, with a prime example being that it was 11:20 on the dot once you got there. Miranda had to attend a small dinner party at 9, so she eventually returned home at 10:30. Not the worst timing for a Friday night, but if Stephen had been ranting from the very moment she stepped in, well then you had no doubt she was tired. Too tired to argue perhaps as you barely heard her murmured response.

“We can discuss this in the morning. It’s late.” She sounded worn. It made your heart ache as you looked up at the ceiling, momentarily debating if you should stay or leave.

“Oh yeah? Just so you can escape back into your job to try and distract yourself from the real issues? Stop acting like a child, Miranda. We’ll talk about this now like adults.” The way Stephen ‘put his foot down’ was nothing in comparison to Miranda’s method. He was too loud about it - too demanding. It wasn’t very effective, even though it did make up your mind for you.

Staying was risky, of course. You could get caught, of course. You could get fired, of course. But honestly? You didn’t trust your boss’s husband. You didn’t trust his demeanor or his drinking or any other little thing about him. And although you didn’t think he would really hurt her, the worry that planted itself in the back of your brain grew swiftly; festering like a disease as you inched yourself toward the stairs and placed your hand on the cold bannister. Worrying for your boss was not your place, but above that, worrying for Miranda Priestly was not your right. You weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours - so there was really no need to stick around. She was entirely capable of taking care of herself.

…And yet?

And yet, something in your gut told you to stay. It was quiet but present - and it murmured softly, convincing you that the second you stepped out of the door and got into the car with Roy and drove off into the night, something would happen. Something bad. Something that you could have avoided if only you were there.

So no, you couldn’t leave. Not yet. Even though Miranda was most likely prepared to tear Stephen a new one.

“I am acting like a child? Calling your wife at 9:45 PM to complain about her absence at a dinner you didn’t confirm is far more childish than me doing my job. What did you expect me to do when you called? Run out of an important business dinner to dash over and wipe your tears before drowning my embarrassment in an overpriced ‘welcome bread basket’? Don’t be absurd, Stephen. You knew I was busy.” And she proved you right - speaking in a low edgy hiss that you suspected was only reserved for her husband. Interestingly enough though, even alone in her house, arguing with this person or the other, Miranda never raised her voice.

No one else thought it was noteworthy enough to mention in quiet conversation, but you were often tempted to bring it up to Nigel. You figured it was because of her childhood - whatever that had been like - and that she vowed to keep her vocal cords safe. It was a small little detail, but when one conversed with Miranda, sometimes it seemed like the only thing to focus on. Her words are always important, yes, but watching her lips move… and seeing the way her teeth formed each syllable… well it was mesmerizing in a way you’d never be able to properly explain. And Stephen, who was pacing the floor above you, was far too daft to understand that.

“What, so if I want to have dinner with my wife, I have to confirm through her assistant? You barely pick up, Miranda!” The sudden growl in his voice had you placing one foot on the stair next to you.

‘This is just a precautionary measure’ you told yourself, knowing that was far from the truth.

“And you pick up too often.” Her quip was breathy and sharp - a clear end to the conversation as you heard her soft footsteps trailing off into another room.

“What does that even mean?! I’m trying to be a good husband, but you are ruining my reputatio-”

“Your reputation?” The venom in Miranda’s voice silenced her husband immediately. “Your reputation…,” you pictured her shaking her head before letting out a little mocking laugh; “…I have no effect on how much you succeed in your career. If you can’t separate work and life, that’s not my problem.”

Their voices were drifting away, lost to the floorplan of their home as you slowly skirted your way up the stairs. It seemed that Miranda had taken your common sense with her when she walked off, leaving Stephen (and you) to follow like lost puppies. Although, she still didn’t know you were there. And you still weren’t going to leave - not until he stopped raising his voice and waking the entire neighborhood.

“God you know- you always treat me like shit, Miranda.” You winced, knowing very well how much she hated cursing. “I am your HUSBAND. You should be speaking to me with respect - not like I’m another worthless magazine you can get rid of. I’ve given you EVERYTHING I have and what have you given me? A few hours of your time? Nothing? Just enlighten me, because I’m really at a loss right now!”

There was a bang then. It was strong and hard and it sounded like he hit something- maybe a side table or a wall- but it didn’t matter to you. He had hit something and if he could hit something- an inanimate object- he could hit his wife and if he hit his wife, he could hurt her and you couldn’t just stand there- you couldn’t just listen to his slander when his wife was giving him everything!; when she was providing and taking care of the children and doing her job all at the same time. You gulped, noticed that you had gravitated up to the second floor, and decided in a split second that if Miranda had anything to say, you’d simply come up with an excuse.

Then, as you listened for where they had gone, you heard hurried footsteps coming back toward the stairs.

“Don’t ignore me, Miranda! Stop hiding behind your job and just admit that you don’t give a fuck about us! I try so hard every day and every night and all you can do is- is- is whore yourself out to those fucking businessmen!”

The gasp that bubbled up in your throat escaped without hesitation. You had never heard anyone talk about Miranda like that - and especially not to her face. If anyone else had spoken so wickedly, you were almost certain that they’d be blacklisted from every bloody establishment in New York City, whether it had to do with fashion or not. But Stephen… well you knew that she had her own reputation to protect - and an escaping husband was not ideal.

But still…

Still…

She didn’t deserve that. And the injustice that had sparked earlier welled up like water boiling over the lip of a full pot. How dare he? How dare he speak to her like that? Your hands balled into fists at your sides; painted nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Still nothing to say? Huh?!”

A split second later, followed by the sound of Stephen’s yelling, Miranda walked around the corner.

And there your eyes met.

She looked tired at that moment… and small… and utterly incensed at the idea of you being there and witnessing that. The shock played out on her face in the span of a millisecond; with a wide blue gaze and perfect lips parted and sculpted eyebrows raised onto her forehead - which was half covered by a swooping waterfall of messy white hair. It was beyond clear that she was ready for bed and that Stephen was just prolonging her suffering, but you sent a silent prayer to the gods asking to keep your job just before her husband showed up. His hands were on his hips, his face was screwed up into a tired and angry frown, and upon seeing you- he let out a loud scoff.

“Are you kidding me?!” His yell was right in Miranda’s ear but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she was staring right at you. At you. With some sort of fury- some sort of strange deep emotion- swirling around in pearlescent eyes. You felt your knees grow weak but held your ground. If she was going to yell, let her yell. If she was going to coldly dismiss you, let her coldly dismiss you. But at the end of the day, the longer you stared, the more you knew that she knew. That she understood. In the strange telekinetic way that most women shared - the concern that compelled you to stay was reflected in her gaze. And there, in the lull of irritation and tension, was a conversation that only the two of you shared.

It was spoken softly, slowly, and through your eyes alone.

‘I stayed because I was scared for you.’

‘I know.’

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘I don’t know. This wasn’t your place.’

‘I understand. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’

‘I can handle myself.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘…I know.’

“Did you plan this? Is that why she’s here?! What- did- did you call her? To witness us fight? See I knew you were fucking crazy! From day one I told myself ‘Stephen don’t get involved with her’ and now look where I am!”

Your silent conversation was snapped in half as he ranted; all while shoving past Miranda to walk further into the hall and throw his hands up in the air like a kid. You felt your body jolt at the sight of her being pushed, but like the impenetrable wall she could be, your boss stood her ground and allowed her husband to brush past her shoulder. As if there wasn’t force in the way he walked. As if you weren’t this close to throwing a punch.

And Miranda could see it in you. She could see the irritation- the sense of injustice and everything that came with it- but she also knew you wouldn’t do anything. You were too kind. Too understanding.

Well… unless someone like Stephen said what he said next.

“You know what? No. I’m done. You listen to me right now,” and then he rounded on your boss, walking right up into her space so quickly that you couldn’t help but push yourself to get closer. And from where you stood then, you saw the way he pushed his finger into her chest and seethed with an unnecessary amount of rage.

“You listen and you learn. I have had it up to here with your bullshit. The cold shoulder, the missed dinners, the terrible schedules, the fact that you don’t even care if the twins like me or not - I’m sick of it. You treat me like an accessory. Another bag for the queen of fashion to throw out but guess what. Guess what, Miranda! I don’t care anymore. We’re separating - and you’re gonna end up like all of the other sad washed up celebrities: Pathetic and- and- weak and alone. Because no one- no one- could possibly love you like this,” and you watched with disgust as he shook his head and let out a cruel laugh. “No one could possibly look at you, with your stuck-up bitchy behavior, and see something worth loving. And-”

Before he could continue, you heard yourself speaking.

“You are absolutely pathetic.”

Two sets of eyes turned on you - one of them confused and the other severe, silently telling you to just shut your mouth. Normally, you would. Normally, you’d listen to your boss and obey her commands- silent or not- because you appreciated her authority and you were halfway in love with her. But it was for that last reason, the very reason why your ribcage felt like a zoo butterfly exhibit, that you decided not to listen. Sure, Miranda would hear your angry love-sick quips, but that didn’t matter. You were going to spill your heart out onto the floor, take a page out of your boss’s book…

…and kick Stephen’s ego into the dust.

“What did you just say?” His eyes were disbelieving as he turned to you; and though a twinge of fear dug at your heart, you pushed on.

“You heard me. You’re pathetic. Pathetic and weak and honestly? Really really embarrassing. It’s no wonder she doesn’t wanna spend time with you. Aside from being the busiest person on Earth and providing you with a roof over your head, she has kids and a job to maintain. But it’s fine- it’s fine!, because you get to complain and she doesn’t. Because you think she owes you everything, but she doesn’t. And she never did. And she never will.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so close to him, but the backwards step he took gave you enough confidence to continue. “And if you think you mean anything to her, above her children, above her passion, then you are so sorely mistaken that it’s almost funny. Because me, and so many others, have seen how much Miranda cares about those closest to her - and if she’s not making you better, then you’re clearly not worth her time. But maybe if you exercised some more respect, maybe if you showed you cared, she’d bother to call you back and she’d bother to act like your wife. But you don’t do that. So why should she show you what you don’t show her? Huh? Why should she love you when there’s other people out there- when- when there’s people like- like Nigel, like Emily, like me,” you took a deep breath, nearly choking on your words because you were talking so fast, “who would give her the world if she asked for it. Who would do anything to have her attention. So- so why should she love you when you take it for granted? When you, who gets it for free, don’t have to bend over backwards for her affection? When- when- you- you attend events with her, you have dinner with her, she calls you darling! And you take it all for GRANTED - BECAUSE YOU JUST DON’T CARE!”

Your eyes were most likely bloodshot. Your body was shaking. Your head was pounding and your heart was in your throat.

But Stephen looked shocked, having taken more steps backward toward the stairs as you approached him like a blood-thirsty lioness. And at that, watching the way his hand scrambled for the banister, you felt a strange twist of pride creep throughout your heart.

…But it wasn’t enough. You wanted him gone. So you cleared your throat, straightened your spine, and sniffed.

“That’s enough.”

Of course. Miranda cut in, her cool voice dousing your rage like a bucket of water over burning coals; dragging you back into yourself from where you had gotten lost in the clouds; reminding you that you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. That you were just an assistant. Just a young woman who had stepped out of line to try and protect a woman who didn’t really need it. And instinctively, as though you had been slapped in the face or tugged by a leash, you backpedaled until Miranda’s soft footsteps came over and her back faced you. Stephen’s expression was hidden.

“…I’ll contact Leslie in the morning,” her voice was soft… introspective… distant in a way that made you nervous. “Until then… find somewhere else to spend the night.”

And things grew very quiet.

The only sounds you heard were the bustle of the city and the individual breathing of the three of you. Everything else was silent. The rest of the house, empty without Patricia and the twins (all of which were visiting their grandparents), felt like a movie set with a hidden audience. As though, at about any minute, the credits for the end of the episode would roll and you, Miranda, and Stephen would let out sighs of relief and walk off set and go get cups of water and coffee. But even as you stood there, trying hard not to tilt to the left to watch Stephen walk downstairs and out of the house, you knew what had happened was no fun and games. No, you’d definitely be facing consequences once he was gone.

And finally, after a few more moments of prolonged silence, his footsteps were going down the stairs and into the foyer. Your eyes traced the contours of Miranda’s silk shirt, watching the way it flowed over her shoulders as she walked closer to the staircase to watch Stephen go. One minute- two minutes- and then the front door was opening and closing behind him…

…and silence fell again.

You swallowed, feeling as though you had suddenly been thrown into the center of the sun. The heat of your embarrassment was excruciating - and if Miranda turned around, she’d spot the blush on your cheeks instantaneously. But that was a strong if, because she hadn’t just yet. Nope, instead, she stood staring at the door, letting the air settle. And you weren’t going to interrupt that, so you kept your mouth shut and tried to rationalize mentally.

If she asked, you’d just tell her the truth. That the world got crueler each day and it was in your nature to worry and that no wife should ever come face to face with a furious partner - at least not without the chance to talk civilly at first. And then you’d tell her that it was okay if she wanted to fire you and that you were sorry for being so open and that if you had fucked things up, you’d do whatever you could to fix them.

…

The silence eventually became deafening. And there was an itch in your legs that was getting to you. And your hands were slowly untensing, left with an ache from the pressing of your fingernails. And the exhaustion from the long day was getting to you - so you cleared your throat and prepared yourself.

“Miranda, I’m so sor-”

“That was unnecessary.” You couldn’t hear an ounce of emotion in her tone.

And all you could do was nod and look down at your feet.

“I- I know. I know. But I just… I just couldn’t leave, Miranda.”

“You couldn’t or you didn’t want to?”

Well that was a brilliant question. One you wished you could answer without crying. One you wished you could answer without feeling like a complete loser.

“…Both, I guess.” You settled on the best option you could think of and began shaking your head when the only response you got was a low hum of acknowledgment.

And Miranda still hadn’t moved. She was probably compartmentalizing - or disappearing into her fashionable mind palace - all while you stood there looking at her like she had just smacked your ice cream onto the floor.

Well… if there was one thing you knew, it was that the tension-filled silence couldn’t continue. She could either fire you quickly or make it slow and painful, but either way you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Look, I’m sorry. I am. I know it was out of line and it was too much and I should’ve just kept my mouth shut but I promise I did it with good intentions. And I promise I wouldn’t have stayed if I wasn’t worried and I wouldn’t have said anything if I weren’t genuinely upset. And… and I don’t know if you want to fire me because of that, but if you’re gonna do it - please just get it over with. I know I’m a good assistant, I- I know I’ve learned quickly and I’m sorry that I just completely ruined that right now but if you somehow just gave me another chance, I wouldn’t make another mistake. I promise. And I wouldn’t- I- I-,” you stumbled over your words, feeling the intense pounding of your heart press up against your chest, like it was begging to bounce onto the floor and tumble down the stairs. And the feeling felt so sickening that you had to take a deep breath and shake your head and push down the angry, anxious, terrified tears that yearned to spill into your eyes. “And I- I’ll- I’ll never let anyone talk to you like that again… I promise.”

Your voice was frail. The fire from earlier was gone - as though it had never existed at all. And Miranda still just stood there, with her phone in one hand and her face turned away from you…. Like you weren’t good enough to see her. Like you didn’t deserve to know what she was thinki-”

“You talk too much.” It was the only thing she said before she turned around and walked right past you - faster than lightning.

And you blinked just in time, turning on your heel and staring after her.

“Wh-what? That’s it?” You called. No firing? No scolding?

The room she was heading into looked like a study - but that swiftly became unimportant when she paused at the door and turned to you.

Her face, lit up by the hall light, looked tired in the same way it was earlier. But her eyes… well there was something in them that you couldn’t place. It looked like amusement… and something softer. Something- dare you say- grateful. But it was probably just a trick of the light - and you were probably just hallucinating because of your own exhaustion - and she was most likely just itching to get her duty done and go to bed.

And you suspected that was the case until she took a second to look you up and down in that way that she did- with her blue eyes searching and her gaze laser-sharp- and eventually, eventually, she made it back up to your face. Her expression was blank.

“…On Monday morning, tell Emily that the clothing department has a new opening. Then tell everybody else.” There was a pause. “…And be prepared to start interviews on Tuesday.”

And the last you saw of her then- of the sweet poison you called Miranda Priestly- was the statuesque shape of her body’s side profile as she softly closed the study door.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Thank you for the request, anon! I understand this isn't terribly fluffy, but I wanted to make it as realistic as I could. I hope you enjoyed! - Ripley

(P.S. DWP is my favorite movie!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ════

#fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #dwp #dwpfanfic #miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly fanfiction #devil wears prada #ripsanonreply #request #anon request #devil wears prada miranda priestly #miranda priestly devil wears prada #the devil wears prada #tw #tw fanfic

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cosettepontmercys · 1 year

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books read in 2023

hi, hello! inspired by a few mutuals, i decided to do a reading thread of 2023! you can find my goodreads here, and my bookstagram here! as always, askbox + dms are open if have any questions or would like to chat about books!

january

book lovers by emily henry (reread; ★★★★★)

convenience store woman by sayaka murata + translated by ginny tapley takemori (★★★☆☆)

a wish in the dark by christina soontornvat (★★★★★)

so you want to talk about race by ijeoma oluo (audiobook; ★★★★★)

highly suspicious and unfairly cute by talia hibbert (★★★★☆)

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid (reread; (★★★★☆)

if not, winter by sappho + translated by anne carson (★★★★★)

when you wish upon a lantern by gloria chao (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

this time it's real by ann liang (ARC; ★★★★★)

love, theoretically by ali hazelwood (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

hell bent by leigh bardugo (★★★★☆)

everything i know about love by dolly alderton (reread; ★★★★★)

the fraud squad by kyla zhao (★★★☆☆)

masters of death by olivie blake (★★★★☆)

enter the body by joy mccullough (★★★★☆)

the stranger by albert camus (reread; ★★★★★)

you'd be mine by erin hahn (★☆☆☆☆)

a hundred other girls by iman hariri-kia (★☆☆☆☆)

bloodmarked by tracy deonn (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

fearless by mandy gonazales (★★★★☆)

february

the roommate by rosie danan (★★☆☆☆)

wuthering heights by emily brontë (book club pick; ★★★★☆)

the nanny by lana ferguson (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

the writing retreat by julia bartz (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

exes and o's by amy lea (★★★☆☆)

not here to stay friends by kaitlyn hill (ARC; ★★★★☆)

chloe and the kaishao boys by mae coyiuto (ARC; ★★★★☆)

isha, unscripted by sajni patel (gifted; ★★☆☆☆)

conversations on love by natasha lunn (★★★★★)

meet me at the lake by carley fortune (ARC; ★★★★☆)

emily wilde's encyclopedia of faeries by heather fawcett (★★★☆☆)

where echoes die by courtney gould (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

vintage contemporaries by dan kois (gifted; ★★☆☆☆)

how to be perfect: the correct answer to every moral question by michael schur (audiobook; ★★★★★)

half a soul by olivia atwater (★★★★★)

ten thousand stitches by olivia atwater (★★★★☆)

longshadow by olivia atwater (★★★★★)

between the world and me by ta-nehisi coates (audiobook; ★★★★★)

infamous by lex croucher (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

the lord sorcier by olivia atwater (★★★★☆)

the latch key by olivia atwater (★★★★★)

made of stars by jenna voris (ARC; ★★★★☆)

march

when broadway was black: the triumphant story of the all-black musical that changed the world by caseen gaines (audiobook; ★★★★★)

leave it to the march sisters by annie sereno (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

once more with feeling by elissa sussman (ARC; ★☆☆☆☆)

moorewood family rules by helenkay dimon (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

fleabag: the scriptures by phoebe waller-bridge (★★★★★)

fake dates and mooncakes by sher lee (ARC; ★☆☆☆☆)

vera wong's unsolicited advice for murderers by jesse q. sutanto (gifted; ★★★★☆)

emma of 83rd street by audrey bellezza and emily harding (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

how to read now by elaine castillo (★★★★★)

constellations by nick payne (reread; ★★★★☆)

ching chong chinaman by lauren yee

devil in winter by lisa kleypas (★★★★☆)

the passing playbook by isaac fitzsimons ( ★★★★★)

infinite jest by david foster wallace

our wives under the sea by julia armfield (★★★★☆)

mrs. nash's ashes by sarah adler (ARC; ★★★★☆)

study break: 11 college tales from orientation to graduation edited by aashna avachat (★★★☆☆)

the love match by priyanka taslim (★★★★☆)

a lady for a duke by alexis hall (★★★★☆)

love and other consolation prizes by jamie ford (★★★☆☆)

april

spoiler alert by olivia dade (★★☆☆☆)

all the feels by olivia dade (★★☆☆☆)

ship wrecked by olivia dade (★★☆☆☆)

float plan by trish doller (★★★★☆)

yellowface by r.f. kuang

the ex hex by erin sterling (★★☆☆☆)

the kiss curse by erin sterling (★★★☆☆)

siren queen by nghi vo (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

chloe and the kaishao boys by mae coyiuto (reread; ★★★★★)

wandering souls by cecile pin (gifted; ★★★★★)

heavy vinyl, vol. 1: riot on the radio by nina vakueva & carly usdin (★★★★☆)

heavy vinyl: y2k-o! by nina vakueva & carly usdin (★★★★☆)

never ever getting back together by sophie gonzales (★★☆☆☆)

book lovers by emily henry (reread; ★★★★★)

miss aldridge regrets by louise hare (gifted; ★★★☆☆)

if the shoe fits by julie murphy (★★★☆☆)

blackmail and bibingka by mia p. manansala (★★★★☆)

murder and mamon by mia p. manansala (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

icebreaker by hannah grace (★☆☆☆☆)

alone with you in the ether by olivie blake (reread; ★★★★★)

may

beautiful country: a memoir of an undocumented childhood by qian julie wang (★★★★★)

the other black girl by zakiya dalila harris (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

check & mate by ali hazelwood (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

if i'm being honest by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka (reread; ★★★★★)

always never yours by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka (reread; ★★★★★)

do i know you? by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka (reread; ★★★★★)

romeo and juliet by william shakespeare (audiobook, reread; ★★★★★)

joan is okay by weike wang (★★★★☆)

technically yours by denise williams (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

first position by melanie hamrick (ARC; ★☆☆☆☆)

the boy from kyiv: alexei ratmansky's life in ballet by marina harss (ARC; ★★★★★)

the boy you always wanted by michelle quach (ARC; ★★★★☆)

woman, eating by claire kohda (★★☆☆☆)

immortal longings by chloe gong (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

heartburn by nora ephron (★★★☆☆)

a merry little meet cute by julie murphy & sierra simone (★★☆☆☆)

the deal by elle kennedy (★☆☆☆☆)

the mistake by elle kennedy (★☆☆☆☆)

the score by elle kennedy (★☆☆☆☆)

the goal by elle kennedy (★☆☆☆☆)

the legacy by elle kennedy (★☆☆☆☆)

open water by caleb azumah nelson (★★★★★)

painted devils by margaret owen (gifted; ★★★★★)

playing for keeps by kendall ryan (★☆☆☆☆)

june

the final revival of opal and nev by dawnie walton (★★★☆☆)

the missing of clairedelune by christelle dabos (audiobook; ★★★★★)

happy place by emily henry (reread; ★★★★★)

iris kelly doesn't date by ashley herring blake (ARC; ★★★★☆)

ghosts by dolly alderton (★★★★★)

you don't have a shot by racquel marie (gifted; ★★★★☆)

thank you for listening by julia whelan (audiobook; ★★★★★)

if you still recognize me by cynthia so (gifted; ★★☆☆☆)

imogen, obviously by becky albertalli (gifted; ★★★★☆)

for never & always by helena greer (ARC; ★☆☆☆☆)

all the dead lie down by kyrie mccauley (gifted; ★★★★☆)

one hundred days by alice pung (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

much ado about nada by uzma jalaluddin (★★★★☆)

thieves gambit by kayvion lewis (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

deep in providence by riss m. neilson (★★★☆☆)

the burnout by sophie kinsella (ARC; ★★★★☆)

small worlds by caleb azumah nelson (ARC; ★★★★☆)

we ship it by lauren kay (★☆☆☆☆)

foul heart huntsman by chloe gong (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

the memory of babel by christelle dabos (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

pride and prejudice and pittsburgh by rachael lippincott (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

a british girl's guide to hurricanes and heartbreak by laura taylor namey (ARC; ★★★★☆)

the reunion by kit frick (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

queer by william s. burroughs

when grumpy met sunshine by charlotte stein (ARC; ★☆☆☆☆)

july

the storm of echoes by christelle dabos (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

will they or won't they by ava wilder (★★★☆☆)

fiona and jane by jean chen ho (audiobook; ★★☆☆☆)

business or pleasure by rachel lynn solomon (★★★☆☆)

teach the torches to burn: a romeo & juliet remix by caleb roehrig (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

a man called ove by fredrik backman (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

exciting times by naoise dolan (audiobook; ★☆☆☆☆)

the hobbit by j.r.r. tolkien (audiobook; ★★★★★)

the year of magical thinking by joan didion (★★★★★)

such a fun age by kiley reid (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

tis the damn season by kimi freeman (ARC; ★☆☆☆☆)

august

a very nice girl by imogen crimp (audiobook; ★★☆☆☆)

bliss montage by ling ma (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

the raven boys by maggie stiefvater (reread; ★★★★★)

freshwater by akwaeke emezi (audiobook; ★★☆☆☆)

the dream thieves by maggie stiefvater (reread; ★★★★★)

i'm not done with you yet by jesse q. sutanto (gifted; ★★☆☆☆)

blue lily, lily blue by maggie stiefvater (reread; ★★★★★)

the raven king by maggie stiefvater (reread; ★★★★★)

bellegarde by jamie lilac (gifted; ★★★☆☆)

red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston (reread; ★★★★★)

some mistakes were made by kristin dwyer (gifted; ★★★☆☆)

september

beta read (★★★★★)

dogs of summer by andrea abreu lópez (audiobook; ★★☆☆☆)

in these hallowed halls: a dark academia anthology edited by maria o'regan and paul kane (ARC; ★★★☆☆)

together we rot by skyla arndt (★★★★☆)

stay with my heart by tashie bhuiyan (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

before we say goodbye by toshikazu kawaguchi & translated by geoffrey trousselot (ARC; ★★★★★)

the dead romantics by ashley poston (★★★★☆)

the seven year slip by ashley poston( ★★★★★)

you, again by kate goldbeck (★★☆☆☆)

serpent & dove by shelby mahurin (gifted; ★★★☆☆)

harlem after midnight by louise hare (gifted; ★★★☆☆)

witch of wild things by raquel vasquez gilliland (gifted; ★★★☆☆)

the luis ortega survival club by sonora reyes (gifted; ★★★★☆)

blood & honey by shelby mahurin (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde (audiobook; ★★★★★)

for the throne by hannah whitten (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

the wake-up call by beth o'leary (★★★★★)

the book eaters by sunyi dean (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

october

the moth keeper by kay o'neill (★★★★☆)

a fragile enchantment by allison saft (ARC; ★★★★☆)

just kids by patti smith (audiobook)

cult classic by sloane crosley (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

the atlas paradox by olivie blake (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

the goodbye cat by hiro arikawa (gifted; ★★★★★)

the appeal by janice hallett ( ★★★★☆)

the twyford code by janice hallett ( ★★★★☆)

wildfire by hannah grace (★★☆☆☆)

the roaring by t. katarina tayler (★★☆☆☆)

curious tides by pascale lacelle (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

the tempest by william shakespeare (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

murder on the orient express by agatha christie (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

canadian boyfriend by jenny holiday (ARC; ★★☆☆☆)

november

better than fiction by alexa martin (★★★☆☆)

the christmas appeal by janice hallett(★★★★☆)

kaikeyi by vaishnavi patel (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

finale: late conversations with stephen sondheim by d.t. max (audiobook; ★★★★☆)

cleopatra and frankenstein by coco mellors (★★★★☆)

the undertaking of hart and mercy by megan bannen (audiobook; ★★★☆☆)

december

how to stop time by matt haig (audioboook; ★★★☆☆)

the wake-up call by beth o'leary (reread; ★★★★★)

the break up tour by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka (arc; ★★☆☆☆)

bride by ali hazelwood (arc; ★☆☆☆☆)

the getaway list by emma lord (arc; review withheld due to st. martin's press boycott)

same time next year by tessa bailey (★☆☆☆☆)

the mountains sing by nguyễn phan quế mai (★★★★★)

normal people by sally rooney (audiobook, reread; ★★★★★)

the night circus by erin morgenstern (reread;★★★★★)

funny story by emily henry (arc; ★★★★★)

les misérables by victor hugo (★★★★★)

TOTAL BOOKS READ: 202

#post: 2023 reading thread #starting out the year with a reread of book lovers 🤍 (which imo is emily henry's best)#i love nora and charlie and i see so much of myself in nora and i just love the way EH writes about grief

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ermesskiss · 2 months

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guys I have a serious question

is it gay for your female friend who you're extremely close with to say 'no one gets me like you do' in a serious convo that made me kick my feet, blush and giggle?!?!

I think our whole conversation we've been flirting with but I can't tell between my own banter and me being flirty

and also we were making a playlist together as we were texting and some of the songs are kinda hinting at romantic feelings, but also we were going base off the vibe of the song so idrk

i also noticed she likes girl in red (hmmm)

when I visited her at her college we were walking around and she pointed out the 'love is love' signs a few times and recently she was talking about a few queer films she likes which completely surprised me

in general we just talk about our future together (as friends) if we were roommates and how much we miss each other's presence and stuff, or how we understand each other so well and that if we ever stop being friends both of us would be severely upset about it

mind you, she told me she was straight while we were friends in highschool (but she also said no super fast like she was hiding something if yk what I mean)

and she doesn't know I'm a lesbian because I don't want to mess with our friendship but I think she knows (the closet is glass)

i can't tell if I have romantic feelings for her but it's so confusing omg

probs will delete

we will see 🙈

#i think this SatoSugu coded tbh #lol #homoerotic #we never stop texting each other #i get jealous when she talks about her other friends #is that normal?!#probs not #ur gay #gay as hell #wlw #jjk #satosugu #★ emily talks

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peachiemilkytea · 2 months

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ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ

pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

Summary: Henry has been talking to your dad about his co-boss a lot lately, enough to invite him over for dinner knowing that he is your boss too. Now you have to deal with a dumb teenage boy you don't like.

Paring: Teen!Michael Afton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of Y/n, third and first person pov, your parents embarrassing you, flirting?? romance??? enemies to friends

W/c: 5K

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

Flipping the pages in between my fingers of a romance story. Seventeenth Summer by Maureen Daly. It was in my top ten favorites, my first favorite was IT by Stephen King. The one I'm reading now is about two teenagers, Angie Morrow, and Jack Duluth, being a couple and going out together in June for the first time. Their dates would be them getting cokes with friends, riding in Jack's car, going to movies, and taking the boat out. They grew closer than they could ever be together. It gave it a whole new point of view on the world. Rose-tinted glasses.

"Dottie! Come down here!"

Uh oh, am I in trouble? I put my book down on my bedside and walked downstairs. Mom was leaning on the kitchen counter talking to my dad who was smoking a cigarette. My mother hates the smell of cigarettes. Her nose scrunched at the intoxicating smell. I took a seat at the table.

"Whatever happened, Daniel did it!" I accused my little brother without hesitance. Holding my hands together, my shoulders become tense. Dad snickered out smoke holding onto the sink, biting his lip to hold back a big smile. Mom rolled her eyes at the smoke he let out.

"You're not in trouble (Y/n), we're having the Aftons over for dinner." Mom explained, breathy chuckling.

"Henry and I had lunch with him the other day, he's something else. I had to use everything to stop myself from making fun of his accent. Anyway, his family will be here by six twenty so get ready." Dad explained twiddling the cigarette in between his fingers.

"Alright, whew, you scared me! I thought I was gonna be in trouble! Where's Daniel? Does he know?" I asked, looking around.

"Yes, he knows, he walked in on us talking about it. The Aftons have a boy your age. We'll leave Daniel to suffer with the little ones." Mom said getting off of the counter. I let out a "Yes!" pumping my arm up and running upstairs.

Now that I think about it, William never really talks about his family. He'll bring up his daughter Elizabeth but that's really about it. I had to find out that Michael was Will's kid myself, he never talked about him and whenever I try to bring him up Will shuts it down. He's a jerk to me, I swear it's like he hates me! One time when I was working he spilled soda all over my head with a sarcastic 'whoops.' Poor Henry had to give me a towel and wash it out of my hair and face.

While with Henry he'll talk about his kids all the time, I would hear all the stories about Sammy and Charlie. All the cute things they did and all the tantrums. Henry would have a picture of his wife in his pocket, Nancy Emily, they've been high school sweethearts. She's a sweet woman who got me into Seventeenth Summer. I usually hang out in her garden with her taking care of the plants or sunbathing. I cleaned up my room, picked up the clothes on the floor, and fixed my plants, stacking my books into the shelf, tidying up my desk. I think I looked okay. It was presentable enough. Daniel was standing at my door.

"Come on, hurry up! They're at our door." Daniel said repeatedly knocking on my doorway. I rubbed his hair walking past the kid. Downstairs there was William with a gingered-haired woman, his daughter Elizabeth, a smaller boy holding a golden Fredbear plushie, and... Michael? Ohhh that would make sense now, that's why he looks like William. I didn't pay attention when Mom was talking about us. He perked up surprised but then waved at me with a smile.

"This is Daniel and (Y/n), my kids," Mom said putting her hands on her hip. That stance always gave off 'I'm a tired mom.'

"Kids, this is the Aftons. William, Clara, Elizabeth, Evan, and Michael." Mom introduced us, pointing to each one of them.

"Hey boss," I said, looking towards William. He smirked at my remark. I looked over to my dad and saw the gears in his head turning, Mom gave out a silent 'oh.' Clara looked between me and William.

"But you work for Henry?" Dad asked more like a question.

"William is Henry's co-boss, I work for both of them," I said putting my hand on my hip, then going back to the family and flashing them a smile before going up to my room.

I heard Dad and mom talking to William and Clara talking more about work and what's for dinner, telling Daniel to take the little ones. Then They were talking about boring adult stuff, the only thing I found interesting that they were talking about is all the butterflies Clara's been finding and keeping. Maybe the book my dad was reading, The Color Purple. A book about a teenage African American, Cecilie. Raised in rural isolation in Georgia. She resists the self-paralyzing concept forced on her by others. He's the one who introduced the book to me, it was hard to read because of the writing. But that's the fun of it. Like I did with The Great Gatsby, I took notes on it and broke down the language to understand it then burned the chapters into my head of what happened in a modern way.

Grabbing one of my types of vinyl, I always liked the vinyls more than the cassettes, mixtapes, and walkmans. They played it so much better than the others. Putting on Highway To Hell by AC/DC, it was one of my all-time favorites. Nodding to the beat and mouthing the lyrics.

"Good pick! I didn't expect a good girl like you to be into rock." Michael said, leaning against my doorway with a smug look. I looked back at him and rolled my eyes. I took my vinyls out of the packages and wrote what songs they were on the middle-colored part before putting them on my green flowered walls. Michael was staring at my pictures on my bulletin board.

"Did you take these?" He asked, pointing towards them.

"Yeah, I did. It's still-life photography. What? You like them?" I spat out walking to his side. He was looking at a picture with a book that had cursive letters on the pages, a jar of flowers and the other side is a jar of ink, an old pen sitting next to it, and circled glasses on the other side. Maps and drawings of herbs under the book.

"It's not my style but I like it. It's like something really old and adventurous. Like those old guys you see in the history books." Michael read the photo perfectly. He captured it in his way but still expressed what I was trying to get. I was surprised he was being so nice right now.

"I think this one might be more of your style," I said pointing to a different picture above the one he was looking at.

A bluish-whitish tinted photo, concrete stairs with yellow lines at the end going down. The white walls were covered in graffiti, paint, posters, photos, and drawings. There were marker drawings on the walls and messy paint splattered onto the railings. Graffiti symbols and phrases are marked onto the floor. Some vinyl and cassettes were glued to the wall. Boy bands and magazine covers on the wall with famous faces and logos. The pen drawings on the side made planets and black stars. Drawings made by people saying "runaway" or lists of things or missing pet beetles people found off of the street. A large rectangular mirror on the left side reflects the turn to further downstairs on the right.

Michael's brows raised and his mouth fell slightly. His hand tucked a strand of his hair back behind his ear then covered his mouth with his hand. He blinked a couple of times through his eyelashes. I chuckled and picked it off of the bulletin board and flipped it over on my desk, writing 'To Michael' and handing it to him. He furrowed his brows and stepped back pulling his hand away from his mouth.

"Take it if you like it so much. I know you don't like me very much and I'm okay with that. I'm still your friend." I said being left hanging and still holding the photo.

"I hate you. I hate your '70s haircut. I hate how your teeth are yellow. I hate how your loud laugh echoes in a room. I hate the way you read knockoff comic books. I hate how you smile so big when you lie. I hate you. But I don't, I tried. Something about you is keeping me around. I want to be your friend." Michael admitted. That was a turn of events... He took the picture out of my hands and pressed his lips together. Holding it with two hands he stared at it. I chuckled, and a smile tugged my lips.

"So the soda thing-" I said pointing to the floor lazily. He quickly looked up bug-eyed.

"Ahhh!! Ahh!! We don't talk about that!" Michael yelled jumping on my bed. He got off of his stomach and laid on his back looking at her picture. I sighed going back to my bulletin board of pictures. I put up some new ones I took a few days ago. From the corner of my eye, I saw him put the picture on the bedside desk, and he picked up the book from my desk.

"What is this? It's so cheesy? The guy on the cover looks like me!" Michael asked, reading through the pages.

"It's what girls feel when they're in love, you wouldn't know." I joked. Hearing him scoff.

"Girls fall in love with me. Women get with me." Michael protested moving on his side to look at me with a cocky look, his tongue on the corner of his lips while biting down on it with his teeth. I let out a long 'sure.' He went back to reading. Genuinely Michael seemed invested in the story. Maybe I should show him Sixteen Candles one time. He might like that more because it's a movie. God, I love Molly Ringwald, she's such a great actor and in so many films I love. I have an undying love for her! She reminds me so much of Cheryl. Soon the vinyl stopped playing, so I grabbed another record. Metallica, Ride The Lightning. Putting it in and turning up the volume. Michael's head lifted quickly.

"No way! Metallica! Wait wait I know this one. Ride The Lighting, right?" Michael fanboyed over the vinyl. I nodded lazily. Grabbing a few covers I handed them to him. Dr Feelgood Mötley Crüe, Sweet Child O' Mine Guns N' Roses, Detroit Rock City KISS, Cherry Bomb the Runaways, Bad Reputation Joan Jett, Pet Sematary Ramones, and so many others. Rolling Stones, Judas Priest, you name it. Michael looked like a kid in a candy store flipping through the record covers. He was stuttering his words.

"Oh my god." Michael managed to get out of his excited stutters. Holding up one of them records.

"You can pick the next song." I gave a small smile sitting at the end of my bed. I lie on my stomach further it and swing my feet back and forth. Bopping my head to the beat of the metal music. I felt my imagination running wild, anything with music made me daydream. It was like scenes in a movie or a cartoon show. Michael was mimicking the strings of a guitar that the song was playing.

"Is this all you do?" Michael asked, looking up at the ceiling. His hand was up pointing and tracing the cracks.

"Yeah. I mean sometimes I'll go out if it's with my best friend or if it's because of work. My room beats going outside any day." I said, swinging my feet back and forth while leaning my cheek on my pointer finger. I like to be introverted, my mother always called me a homebody who needs to get out more. The most I would do is hang out with my dad on the porch at dawn talking about our days while he was smoking a cigarette.

"You have a friend that isn't Henry? That's hard to believe." Michael playfully insulted. I grabbed one of my pillows and smacked him with it. He yelled and put his hands up laughing.

"Yes, I do! Jeez. How do you even know I'm friends with Henry? Will doesn't like to talk a lot." I asked sitting up and hugging the same pillow I assaulted him with.

"I know Henry too, you know! You're not the only one. Father will bring me and my brother and sister to work sometimes and that's how I know Henry. He talks about you too much. It's like you're some star student. It's always (Y/n) this and (Y/n) that and oh did you know what (Y/n) did? All the time, it's so annoying!" Michael groaned into the pillow.

"Boo hoo, oh poor you." I mocked sticking my tongue out. Michael lifted his head from the pillow and spotted something. Should I be worried? He looks so curious. He grabbed a book on the floor next to my bed that read 'The 48 laws of Power' which was about Niccolo Machiavelli's philosophy.

"Where did you get something like this?" Michael asked, skipping through the pages.

"It's a philosophy book, about the philosopher Niccolo Machiavelli. He lived in Florence during the Renaissance period. But then a prince came to the city and kicked anyone he didn't like out. Machiavelli was one of them. He would think while he was homeless. He would put on his fanciest clothes and talk about philosophy. Machiavelli has the theory that to get power you need to be feared to be loved. He wrote a letter to the prince on why he should come back to Florence. The prince read the letter and let him back into the city. He gave Machiavelli his spot. To have power you need to cheat, manipulate, and have confidence. It's used in politics and elections." I explained talking through my hands, never leaving his eyes.

Funny story, when I was out for a walk one day I found a kid in a tree reading it and I asked him how he knew that book. We had the best talk about being manipulative. It takes a true philosopher to understand and with that, you need to change your mindset. Philosophy is the love of wisdom, or in Greek Philosophia. It's pursuing your lover, pursuing Sophia. I love doing philosophy but I don't have anyone to do it with.

"This is deep," Michael said he was gapping like a fish. I could tell it wasn't really his thing and it's probably something you look at and forget the next day. I only nodded with a small smile.

My door creaked, I expected it to be one of the kids or my dad telling me to come downstairs for dinner. Cujo came running and jumped on Michael. He grunted putting the book on the nightstand on top of Seventeenth Summer. Cujo jumped on top of him and soaked his face in dog slobber, drool coming down and hitting Michael's cheek. He pushed the dog off of him and wiped the grossness off of his face. Gagging and scowling. I let out a fit of laughter.

"Good boy! Good boy Cujo." I patted his head.

"You named him after the murder dog?!" Michael shrieked scouting up on my pillows trying to get Cujo out of his lap.

"Yeah." I held Cujo's chin up to me and kissed his forehead.

"He almost killed me!" Michael complained, crossing his arms and glaring at me.

"Stop being a baby. Cujo's a sweetheart, he would never hurt anybody unless I tell him to, Isn't that right?" I coo'ed to my puppy. He barked in response. I swear it's like he understands me. We don't deserve dogs, they are too good for us.

"Never thought I would hear that..." Michael mumbled and slowly came off of my pillows. He hesitantly held his hand out to the dog, taking it back quickly when Cujo turned around to sniff his palm. Michael tried again shaking but moved his hand away too quickly again. Cujo barked at him. I grabbed his wrist and held it up to Cujo, finally, he smelt his palm and declared Michael his friend. He put his head into the boy's hand making him pet him. Michael loosened up and pet Cujo's head. A genuine smile tugged at his lips. Scaredy cat.

"KIDS ATTACK!" Uh oh- Elizabeth jumped on her brother and tackled Michael on the bed, hitting him. Telling his face it hurt. Evan was timidly hiding behind Daniel.

"What? Evan! You're supposed to be beating up your brother and my sister!" Daniel said, lifting his arm and looking behind him. Evan was shaking behind him, shutting his eyes so hard you could see the wrinkles on the side. I got up from my spot while Elizabeth and Michael were beating each other up. I went up to the two boys and squatted down to the little one's height. He opened his eyes slowly. They were glossy, you could see every sparkle in the blue. His cheeks were a rosy red. A golden bear was in his arms, looking like Fredbear. William must've given it to him.

"Hey little buddy, it's okay. You don't gotta be me up. Daniel was just joking. Uh... Do you want a hug or something?" I asked, holding out my arms. Evan calmed down a little bit. He left Daniel's side and came up to me laying against me. I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back softly. Evan's crying calmed down and only had little sniffles and shaky gasps of air.

"I like your plushie, what's his name?" I asked, trying to relax him.

"Goldie," Evan mumbled lying on my chest. I stroked his hair.

"That's a nice name," I said softly, looking down at him. Something about this kid melts my heart. He's so delicate, fragile. If he was a box being shipped overseas he would have the fragile label on him.

"Wh-What's your name?" he stuttered looking up at me.

"I'm (Y/n), Daniel's sister. You're daddy's friend. What's your name?" I asked, sitting down on my knees.

"I'm Evan, sometimes my sister calls me Ev," he explained. Isn't that sweet? It's his sister's nickname. Daniel looked confused, glaring at us. I shot him a glare. He stuck out his tongue and pulled down his eyelid.

"IZZY! Get the hell off of me!" Michael yelled fighting his sister. I forgot that was happening. To be fair, Elizabeth was winning the fight. She was laughing at him and sitting on his stomach punching him, Michael's hands covered his face. As much as I'm enjoying seeing Michael getting his ass whooped by his little sister it can't go on forever.

"Alright! How about we play hide and seek?" I asked standing up. It caught Elizabeth perked up, she stopped fighting Michael and looked at me with a bright grin. That kid is a little devil but at least she's cute with her bow. She got off of Michael jumping off my bed and running towards me.

"Hide and seek! Hide and seek! Hide and seek!" Elizabeth chanted jumping up and down. Evan on the other hand shook his head no.

"Come on Evan, pleaseee! Pleaseeee! I'll beat up Michael if he scares you! Daniel's sister will make sure he won't scare you!" Elizabeth begged and pointed to me.

"It's true, I won't let him scare you, I'll even make a pinky promise." I held up my pinky. Evan's foot moved in circles and his body turned to the side, his head down looking up at me with doe eyes. Seriously, this kid is adorable. If Michael does anything I'll have Cujo eat him.

"Okay..." Evan held up his pinky. Interlocking it with mines. We pinky promised to stop Michael from scaring Evan. Speaking of the boy, his hair was disheveled and he was leaning on his elbow lifting himself. He held the back of his head, rubbing it while one of his eyes closed. My covers were a mess! My pillows were everywhere! Elizabeth probably used one to hit him. Kids...

"Daniel's it! Run kids! Count!" I yelled pointing to my brother and running away with the kids. Michael hurried soon after.

I don't know where the other two are, but I ended up with Evan. His small hand was trying to hold mine despite it being bigger. I pointed to Daniel's room under his bed. Evan and I hid under there. He was freaking out a bit. Looking around and shaking. I played with his hair and drew soft slow circles on top of his head. He looked like he could fall asleep. I heard Michael screaming like a girl. Daniel must have found him. What a wuss! There were footsteps and sounds of them arguing. They're like Dumb And Dumber. Elizabeth was found, she was whining and complaining about being found. They were looking for Evan and I. Their footsteps were so sloppy. I snickered a little too loudly, Michael was right about my laugh. How did he even pay attention to it?

"Wait..." I heard Daniel's moment of realization. He beelined for his room. It was weirdly suspenseful. Evan didn't like it at all. Seeing his socks roam the room he looked for us cautiously. Suddenly, fingers grabbed the bottom of the blankets and lifted them. Daniel was squatting there with the smugest look on his face.

"Found ya." He said slyly.

"You little buttmuncher." I jokingly insulted. He dramatically grabbed his heart and gasped offendedly. Evan sighed and crawled out from under the bed. I grabbed Daniel's ankles and pulled him to me. He shrieked and yelled at me. Hitting my hand. We got out from under the bed in a laughing fit.

We spent an hour laughing and scaring each other. Besides Evan, I was always paired with the little boy and he seemed a lot less scared when I was around. Daniel even ran downstairs and hid behind the couch till Elizabeth found him by getting a hint from William. She's a daddy's girl.

Michael was it, for the first time. He refused to do it for all the other times. He only agreed to do it if I did it with him. Pulling me away from Evan. I mean I hope the kid will be okay. Mike is kinda a dickhead. The kids ran off and hid, while we counted. Though he stopped counting.

"Why did you stop?" I asked. He stood there arms crossed with a smirk and one of his brows raised.

"They won't notice," Michael said, leaning up a little.

"Ookaay?" I said confused leaning against the wall. There was an awkward silence like Michael wanted to say something but didn't know how to phrase it. I can tell because I can see the cogs turning in his head.

"Whatever, let's go look for the little dweebs." Michael walked off.

"Hey! I'm the only one who can call Daniel a dweeb!" I ran after him.

We looked around the house. The bathroom, in the shower, the hallway closet, under my bed, under Daniel's bed. These kids were too good. It's like they disappeared. Michael and I went into my room. He put his finger to his lips and tiptoed to the closet. He paused for a moment. I shook my head no quickly, pressing my lips together. What if Evan was in there? Grabbing his shoulder and tugging it. He pushed me off. Michael slammed open the closet and put his arms up with a yell. Turns out... Evan was in there. And now he was having a sobfest thanks to Michael. I pushed past him and squatted down in front of the little boy who was clinging onto his Fredbear stuffie for dear life.

"Hey hey honey, it's okay. Come here. Oh man, I'm so sorry I broke our pinky promise." I said hugging him. Evan clung to me. I picked him up grunting at the sudden weight. He sobbed into my shirt. I glared at Michael, annoyed. For once he looks guilty. I kind of felt bad. Dropping my glare with a neutral smile. I rubbed Evan's back.

"Go find the others, Mike I'm sure dinner is almost ready." I nodded my head towards the door. He just nodded and walked off. Evan slowly calmed down still with leftover tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Do you want to go downstairs and hang out with the parents?" I asked him. He slowly nodded, not moving from my neck. I exited my cozy room and walked downstairs. The adults saw me with a crying Evan in my arms and eyed me confused and worried.

"Oh uh, hide and seek is a little too scary for him," I explained. Mrs. Afton showed understanding like this has happened before or the normal but mixed with guilt for her baby. William looked a little phased by it, his smile fading but going back to talking with my mother.

"Oh uhm here Mrs Afton." I tried handing Evan to his mother but he clung to me like a koala bear. It surprised the Aftons and my parents.

"That's very new, well I suppose he likes you a lot. That means a lot to a little child. And please call me Clara. No need to be so formal!" Mrs-... er Clara said. I nodded and took a seat at the table motioning her to sit next to me.

"I'm (Y/n), I'm sorry this is just so new to me. I wish I had heard about you more. You seem nice." I tried to make conversation. As you can tell it's going poorly.

"Awh, you're sweet. William isn't one to talk about personal stuff that much. Why I didn't even know that you two were coworkers! You work with Henry too?" Clara asked with a heartwarming smile.

"Yeah I do, Henry is my best friend. He's really how I got the job in the first place. I'm the head engineer. The bosses are the ones who are in charge of the whole engineering stuff. I'm just here if they need a little extra help or repairs." I explained she seemed to listen to every word. Her eyes softened too. Something about her makes me so comfortable like I can forget every problem I have. Dammit, William's lucky.

"I uhm.. I like your hair, my friend Cheryl Jo, her hair is red like yours too. Except hers is a little shorter." I said awkwardly, I think Evan is asleep or something. He's really quiet and not moving. His breath is a little shorter.

"You flatter me. So you're an engineer for robots? That must be interesting, you don't hear about that every day. What is it like?" Clara asked me.

"Are you going to let me geek out to you about robots? Because if you get me going I won't stop." I grinned brightly.

"I'm married to William, that already says a lot. I would love to hear you geek out about robots." Clara giggled, her nose scrunched up. If Evan wasn't laying on me I would be bouncing in my seat right now. I went on to rant to her about almost everything I learned about robots and what they could do, what's in them, how they are made, and what I think I could do for the future. I was talking so fast that I almost forgot to breathe.

"Dottie, can you get the kids and tell them dinner's ready." My mom said, wiping her hands together. I nodded, giving Evan back to Clara. He woke up instantly mind you. I got up from my seat and went upstairs.

They can't be far, so I check my room first... What the fuck. Michael was on my floor half-naked with Elizabeth and Daniel trying to shove my yellow floral white sundress over his head. He was yelling at them and trying to push them off but Daniel held down his arms and Elizabeth was solving his head through the dress. Daniel moved Michael's arms through the straps. I cleared my throat and leaned against the door. All of their heads turned towards me, surprised. Michael was beet red.

"Uh... Dinners ready."

I walked downstairs and waited for them to... stop whatever that was. I sat down in my seat with no comment. I want to unsee whatever I just saw immediately. William set the table with plates and asked what drinks we wanted. It feels weird to see him act so casually with my family, it feels weird to even see him in my home. To think my family and his never knew each other all this time. It was only him and I. He's so secretive I wonder why. He never told me about Clara or his kids. It could've been like Henry and I with Elle and the twins. Well, they're an odd bunch but still a presentable family those Aftons.

Speaking of which, Michael, Elizabeth, and Daniel came downstairs. The poor boy couldn't even make eye contact with me. Daniel took his seat next to me. Michael sat across from me. Clara was on my right and in front of her was William. Across from Daniel was Elizabeth, Evan sat next to his sister, Mom sat next to Daniel, and Dad sat in front of Mom.

My parents and the Aftons were telling stories or talking about what happened the other day that seemed so crazy. Evan was trying to get Elizabeth to eat her vegetables, he even held it to her mouth. She was stubborn, crossing her arms and pouting. Daniel was listening in on the parents' conversation. felt my foot get nudged. Fucking Michael. He was looking away listening to the parents talk. I stomped on his foot. His eyes became the sizes of dinner plates, he hit his chest with his fist and coughed violently.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Clara asked, leaning over the table.

"Yeah yeah... just went down the wrong pipe." Michael sipped his water awkwardly. Mom snickered at him and shook her head.

When he looked up he made eye contact with me and gave me a death glare. I smirked picking through my food. His foot hit mine again, I hit his shin with my leg. We were battling playing footsies under the table. Staring at each other and not breaking it. Daniel nudged my shoulder. I stopped. The parents were questioning why the table was moving. Michael kicked my ankle. I nodded my head towards the parents. We both looked at them, they were looking back at us. Michael and I quickly awkwardly took sips of our water not looking up.

---------

The loud and lively became cozy and quiet. Clara walked out with a sleeping Evan in her arms. Putting him in his car seat.

"Daniel! Come down here and say goodbye!"

"Bye!"

"That's not what I meant..." (Y/n) said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt her shoulder get lightly punched. Michael standing there with a smile. The annoyance of her little brother wore off.

"You leaving? I mean... you are leaving why wouldn't you be because your mom and little brother are in the car and-... I'm not making this better for myself." (Y/n) said, scratching the back of her neck shyly.

"Don't worry it's cute, I'm about to head off. I'll see you soon, right?" Michael asked looking away then back at her for a moment.

"Yeah.. yeah! Anytime besides when I'm working. Then again Will's the boss so maybe you can come when I'm working? I don't know, I'm bad at goodbyes." (Y/n) stammered awkwardly.

"Cool, cool" Michael laughed awkwardly. There was this tension between them. Vivian swung her arm around her daughter.

"We'll see you again, right Michael? You are welcome here anytime. You see... (Y/n)'s a bit of a loner-" Vivian whispered the last part behind her hand.

"Mom!" (Y/n) yelled, embarrassed pushing her mother off of her.

"I'm going to be bothering you guys all the time now, you sure you want that Mrs (L/n)?" Michael teased.

"Bring it on kid! And call me Vivian. Mrs. (L/n) makes me feel old." She said,

"Okay, well uh I should go to the car now. Bye and thank you!" Michael walked off waving a bit. Goodbyes were shared. Vivian went back to the kitchen to clean. (Y/n) sighed enjoying the moment of silence. William comes around with a sleeping Elizabeth in his arms. Stopping next to (Y/n) with a smile. She looked up at him surprised.

"I'll see you at work, I would love to hear about your new redesign for Trickster. We have a lot to go over, love." William said in his sultry accent.

"I can't wait, I have so much to talk about. I may need help to work on the blueprints and measurements. I'll see you till then, Will." (Y/n) said gently patting the sleeping girl in his arms. He nodded and took his leave.

Stephen (L/n), was in the backyard lighting a cigarette while the Aftons were leaving. Something was odd to him. Something didn't feel right about William. His guy screamed an icky feeling near him. He didn't like it, but he knew it was a move of a fool to find out what was wrong with William. He needs to know when is the right time to act and how to act. A puff of smoke soared up into the dark sky.

Cujo follows (Y/n) upstairs lazily through her night routine. She grabbed the phone and dialed a number. Cujo lay on her bed huffing and puffing.

"ʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴇʀʏʟ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ʜᴇ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀᴅ."

#michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #fnaf michael afton #fnaf

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