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masterwords · 7 months

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adding it all up

Summary: Hotch follows Reid and Jack into a haunted house. Inside he meets a ghost and stumbles right into some unexpected arms.

Pairing: Hotch/Will

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: nightmares, ptsd, minor injuries, panic attack

Notes: I formally submit to you my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute/Ugly Challenge with the prompt: Character accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and a scare actor breaks character to help. To the surprise of no one at this point, I took some creative liberties with the prompt. There isn't much to the plot, it's pretty simple and we mostly just have an excuse for kissing. As with everything I've written so far about this pairing, we live in a universe where Will is a DC Metro Detective but he is not nor has he ever been with JJ because we don't have time for that kind of backstory in these little one-shots. Thanks for reading yo! Let's show this incredibly rare pairing some love. (And now I return to writing about hotchgan...I can only stray for so long.)

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease dad!”

“I’d rather not,” Hotch said, as if it was going to change the mind of his six year old son. And maybe he didn’t really want to because his argument was pretty flimsy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go in, or that he didn’t like Halloween. “I don’t like to be scared.” That was a lie and Reid saw the opening, poking a huge hole in it immediately.

“You get scared for a living,” Reid pointed out from behind him and Hotch groaned. He’d been hoping Reid would take his side. “Come on Jack. If your dad is too chicken I’ll take you in. I’m kind of an expert.”

“You are?!”

Reid crouched beside Jack as best he could, favoring his still sore (always sore) knee and leaned as close as he could to the child. His whisper smelled like kettle corn and candied apples and cotton candy, that’s what Jack thought anyway. Reid smelled like a carnival. “I’ve already been through it three times. I bet you could find some people in there you know. Like playing a really big game of Where’s Waldo…”

“Who’s in there?!”

“You’ll have to come in with me and see.”

“Can I dad?!”

Hotch sighed and nodded reluctantly. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“You don’t have to if you’re too scared! You can stay out here! I’ll be tough.”

“I know you will buddy.”

Hotch looked at Reid and then at the doorway. He wasn’t scared, it wasn’t that. He simply didn’t care for jump scares or people being that close to him, close quarters, being vulnerable. Not in control. In the dark. Worse than that, he didn’t want any of that to be witnessed by a man he’d just begun seeing just a couple of weeks prior. Because that would be embarrassing. Big strong FBI Agent can’t handle a clown yelling boo in his face.

He always knew this was a possibility. Jack had never wanted to go into the house of mirrors or the haunted house before, he preferred to stick to roller coasters and prize games when they came to the carnival. He thought he’d be safe, especially this year. They were coming up on one year since Haley died and he thought for sure Jack wouldn’t want a thing to do with fake blood and jump scares but here he was practically dragging Reid through the entrance. Dutifully he followed them in, staying a few steps behind. “See you at the end dad!” At the entrance he was asked to wait. Reid and Jack got shoved in with another group and he was about to be sorted with the next when he asked if he could go through on his own.

“I don’t have a guide for a solo trip,” the young man at the door said. “You good at following directions? There are little green glow in the dark arrows along the ceiling that point you the direction you’re supposed to go. Keep an eye on them and you’ll find your way. Don’t go too fast or too slow. There are little red lights on the walls where there are emergency exits if you get hurt or lost or too scared to finish.” The young man flushed a little as he said the last part, Hotch didn’t look much like the type to get scared of anything but he still had to say it. There was a script and he followed it. He liked his job.

“Got it. Follow the green. Red means emergency exit. Thank you.”

Great. Alone. Jack didn’t even care to walk with him, too enthralled with whatever whispers and promises of adventure Reid was feeding him. He didn’t even turn around to see where Hotch ended up. He moved at a relatively quick clip, barely looking in the direction of the sets or the mini scares. Up ahead he was sure Reid was peeking at all the details, getting the most out of everything and helping Jack do the same. He was barely paying attention to any of it. Occasionally he found himself jumping when a clown popped out with a hatchet. That was natural, his heart thumped a little harder, but he smiled and thanked the volunteer in costume before stepping around the corner into a room that was filled with spider webs and hissing sounds. He’d never been afraid of spiders, in fact as a child he’d found himself collecting them in little mason jars and feeding them for a week or two before releasing them back out into the woods. He batted at a piece of cotton webbing that tickled his ear and frowned, not caring much for that feeling. It was worse than the room full of animated spiders.

The haunted house wasn’t huge but it felt like it lasted forever, twisting and angling and collapsing in on itself until he really did feel dizzy. His senses had been warped by the strange dark shafts and violent twists and hanging bloody sheets behind which shadows lurked.

Was he lost or could it really be this long? He glanced up as if to assure himself that he was going the right direction, and squinting into the dark he was able to make out one small green arrow.

There was only one way to go, really. He could hear Jack’s chirpy little voice up ahead and Reid’s surprise, maybe real or maybe an act, and there were voices not too far behind him but he was otherwise completely alone in the maze. The ceiling ahead dropped until he was hunched over in a sort of soft, undulating tunnel. It was pitch black, with only a foggy red light to guide him from what looked like miles away. Hunching like this hurt his back. Up ahead was a pinprick widening to an opening he had to step through into what looked like a torture chamber with bodies hanging from the walls. He’d seen this in real life, this wasn’t entertainment. This was work. Well researched, too. He recognized bits that had been pulled from crime scene photos, small elements not many would recognize but they made his breath catch in his throat more than once. People’s fascination with serial killers would never cease to worry him.

“I’ll gut you like a fish!” growled a man in a grisly voice from the shadows beside him. Hoarse from saying his line so many times, Hotch knew, but something about it still made him flinch away. There was a strangely familiar quality to it, something ghostly and pale, dry leaves rustling in the chilly October wind. “You should have taken the deal…” the voice whispered in his ear and he froze. His legs wouldn’t move. A flash of muzzle and the smell of gun smoke, steel bright in the dark and then pitch black.

“What?” he asked, ashamed of the fear that welled up in his chest. There was a vague pain where his heart should be noisily thumping but was making not a sound. “What did you say?” (He knew, somewhere deep inside, that the man hadn’t said that. There was some still quiet voice of reason in there, it was just disappearing second by second as fear seeped in.)

No reply. He had to be hearing things. There was no way. (Someone could have read the book. He told Colson what Foyet had said to him. He'd been on pain medication, heavy stuff, when he talked to Roy...he should have said less. He knew it but Roy had been so good to him, he found it hard to hold back.) He squinted into the dark where he stood motionless, breathless and saw a black mask coming toward him, outlined by a sickly white fog. Hovering there, not attached to a body for the longest time, and then around him materialized a hooded sweatshirt. Foyet’s mask. He knew it wasn’t Foyet, he’d seen the autopsy report, Foyet was dead. But the mask still startled him, and when it came closer (the person now muttering their actual lines and not something his frightened mind invented on his behalf) he found that his legs did work. They just didn’t obey his commands. He stepped backward, his heel catching on the curtain separating the two rooms and he managed to pull part of it down on top of himself. The feel of the fabric against his neck sent him into a tailspin and he lunged forward past the man in the Reaper mask (now reaching for him and asking if he was alright) until he stumbled into the next corridor where he narrowly missed stepping on a body on the floor. One of his victims, presumably. Hotch glanced down at her, stabbed repeatedly (do you have any idea how long it takes to stab someone 67 times?, he thought) and felt his blood run cold.

Was this some kind of a sick joke? Did someone know he was coming today? (Someone aside from Will? Will would never…he’d been there that day, that was how they met.) As he stepped around the woman on the ground with her guts strewn all around her, he slipped in the gore and took a header down the small flight of black and white checkered stairs. The sound his body made as it hit the wall was horrifying – he wouldn’t doubt if the people outside waiting in line had heard. He groaned and tried to push up to standing but he knew right away that he was hurt. Or just about ready to pass out. His head swam and he collapsed in a heap. “Dammit,” he mumbled. His chest was tight and there was a pain, a burning and squeezing that ran through his left arm. He couldn’t catch his breath.

“You okay mister?”

He recognized that voice, that molasses drawl he’d been hoping to hear in any way but this. Never this. Slowly he looked up, taking the hand of a werewolf who helped him stand. He was dizzy after hitting his head and his ears were ringing. Most of the time his tinnitus was manageable, background noise, but when he was around loud noises or when he hit his head it made sure he remembered it was with him forever. Now it was screaming so loud he felt like his head might burst.

“Will?”

“Hotch?”

“Yeah,” Hotch replied, slipping back against the wall when the group of people who had been a few turns behind him made their way curiously down the stairs. They looked perplexed, probably wondering at all the commotion a few turns ahead of them. Waiting to see a body on the ground. Will quickly maneuvered them until they were part of the exhibit, pretending to eat Hotch and to his credit, Hotch moaned because...well he really felt like it, his head hurt that bad. Once that group passed, Will lifted his mask and eyed Hotch in the dark. There was only a dim foggy glow from the previous room but even in then he could see that something was wrong.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” Hotch swayed where he stood and watched as an ominous gray cloud crept in at the edge of his vision. He felt foggy and wrong, his heart had slowed to a syrupy thump in his chest. He thought he might pass out. There had been such an immediate feeling of panic and now his heart felt like it might give out entirely. “Maybe.”

“What happened?”

Before he could answer, another group came around the corner and they slipped back into their role of werewolf devouring a poor innocent man. It wasn’t exactly what Will’s job was supposed to be, he was supposed to jump out from around the next corner howling and chase the passersby to the next room but it beat not doing it all or having undue attention paid to him.

Hotch swallowed hard. Was he really about to admit he’d been frightened in a haunted house? Really truly scared? And now he probably had a concussion to take home as a souvenir once this panic attack left him alone? “I don’t know,” Hotch said quietly, incapable of finding the right words. He couldn’t admit what he saw. Was it real? Had his mind played tricks on him? “The last room got to me.”

“The torture chamber?” Will asked, his hands gripping Hotch’s waist to steady him. “You seen stuff like that a hundred times…I guess the mad scientist was kinda creepy, I just thought he looked like Doc from Back to the Future.”

“Mad Scientist?” Hotch asked, gripping Will’s forearms. “I didn’t see a Mad Scientist.”

“Huh. I coulda sworn today was Mark’s day. He loves that damn wig. Who was in there?”

Hotch swallowed hard. His throat was dry and clicked painfully, and for a split second he questioned not only his hearing but his eyes...had he just made it all up? Before he could answer another group came around the corner and Will pulled his mask back down and once again set to devouring Hotch’s jugular. Hotch was happy just to stand there pretending to be eaten, it beat the hell out of exploring the caverns of his mind. Of wondering what happened. Did he invent it all? It was possible. He’d been having nightmares again as the anniversary crept closer but he thought he had a pretty good handle on them.

“You want me to get you outta here?” Will asked when they had a brief break. “You’re still shakin’ and you're breathing all funny. My shift is over in fifteen minutes, I can meet you out front when I’m done. We can talk then.”

“Jack is with Reid,” Hotch whispered. “Can I stay?” He didn’t think he could walk. One step and he had the distinct impression he’d be face planting. Maybe if he stayed until this silent panic attack passed – this panic attack he was so far not admitting to – it would be okay.

“Yeah. Sure. But I gotta do my job so you think you can help me out?”

“I’ll try.”

Will smiled from beneath the mask and let it fall back over his face, taking Hotch’s hand and leading carefully, slowly down into the hallway. He kept his arm around Hotch’s waist, walking with purpose. “Right here, lay down.”

“Lay down?” He liked the sound of that. His head was swimming and his legs felt like they’d been poured with concrete.

“Down.”

Hotch eased himself down until he was on the oddly soft fake grass, and Will nudged him until his body was flush with the wall painted with a glowing full moon and pitch black trees. It looked like something painted by children. “When people come, I’m gonna pretend to be eating you. Then I get up and chase ‘em down the hallway and come back. You just lay here. Close your eyes. Play dead.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hotch had no complaints about closing his eyes, it instantly made the pounding in his head quiet to a dull throb. Will shifted above him, and he heard the distinct sound of a howl. It was low, gutteral, almost sexy. Hotch shifted where he lay when he felt a heat growing in his belly. This was not the time, but it did settle the racing of his heart, and the ache in his chest. There were footsteps beside him and Will was panting, chasing a family who giggled and squealed at him, and then he was dropping to his knees over Hotch.

He expected the fur from the mask against his neck again, but instead in the blind darkness he felt the soft flush of Will’s lips against his own. The mask bobbed against his nose, obscuring both of their faces as Will drew him into a kiss. He was breathless from running, Hotch’s chest was constricting like his heart was going to give out, and suddenly the world around him erupted in kaleidoscope colors behind the black of his eyelids. He sucked in a deep breath, a wanting breath as Will stood and chased a couple past them. And then a group of teenagers, one of whom kicked the bottom of Hotch’s shoe before Will returned.

Another kiss. And another. Hotch had rolled over enough that he could press his thighs together to stop his body from responding in ways that would be wholly inappropriate in a haunted house. Every kiss brought him back to the surface for air, and slowly the panic in him drained to quiet nothing. He forgot, briefly, about Foyet’s mask. He’d been caught up in the moment, that was all. Just his mind taking the haunted house a little too seriously. The nightmares seeping into reality. The handle he thought he had on them was weaker than he thought.

Fifteen minutes later they emerged into the glaring daylight. Hotch had almost forgotten it was just barely afternoon, the sun was still overhead bathing everything in its warm glow. Will held his mask beneath his arm, the sweat on his brow making the strange mix of facepaint he’d had on beneath clump and smear. His eyes were blackened, his lips gray and lifeless. Reid smiled and nudged Hotch, handing him a paisley print silk handkerchief from his pocket.

“You uh...you’ve got something right….there…” he said, indicating his lips. Hotch glanced at Will’s smudged gray mouth and frowned, realizing what he must look like too. “Did you need CPR?”

“Something like that.”

“See ya LaMontagne!” an officer yelled as he exited the haunted house, his black hoodie tied around his waist and a mask dangling from his arm. Will glanced at the mask, and then at Hotch, and then back at the mask. He doubted it was intentional, at least not aimed at Hotch. How could it be? Probably just a practical joke, trying to get the best out of a local legend. Still, he was angry and embarrassed. This was one of his guys. Not a great look.

He didn’t even need to say it and Hotch wouldn't want to hear it. Likely he would argue on behalf of the officer, make an excuse for his poor judgment and lack of taste, and maybe he'd be right too but Will didn't want to listen. Roy Colson's new book about the Reaper's last stand was studded with Hotch's own memories, a gift to his friend for keeping his promise during the initial investigation, and the entire squad was in the process of reading it. They knew, they all knew. He couldn't believe one of them would think this was appropriate. Hotch turned away and wiped the grease paint off of his lips while Reid followed Will’s gaze at the officer and the mask. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Will grunted. “I’ll handle it.” The guy was going to be seeing a lot of paperwork and grunt security jobs in the near future.

“Who wants a funnel cake?” Will asked, changing the subject abruptly.

“I do!” Jack had never turned down an offer of sweets in his life, and even Hotch could hardly say no to an offer of deep fried batter covered in powdered sugar.

“Well lets go find some grub then!”

#aaron hotchner #will lamontagne #hotmontagne #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x will #reid is in the story too but he's not a main character so i'm not actually tagging him

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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year

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♥️ Daryl Dixon Masterlist ♥️ p.2

This is a masterlist dedicated to things I've written about Daryl Dixon.

Check out my Prompt List and my Character List in my Masterpost which is pinned for more info on who I write for and some inspiration for requests.

This is a mix of headcannons, oneshots and blurbs :)

Keep Quiet:

Summary/Request: "Scenarios:- I've never wanted to fuck someone so badly before"

Missed:

Summary/Request: "prompts: oh, now you’re shy? spread your legs. eyes on me. i’ve got you, don’t worry"

Scars:

Summary/Request: "Hey :) I was thinking how would Daryl react when his s/o starts to kiss his scars on his back very lovely and gentle while whispering sweet nothings into his ear?"

Oopsie:

Summary/Request: "Friends with benefits situation and Daryl accidentally got Reader pregnant (oopsie!). One time she overheard his conversation with someone so she confronted him saying: why do you feel the need to specify we're just friends?"

Cleaned Up:

Summary/Request: "another one! what about “when was the last time you actually managed to let go?” and “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” with daryl? im still only on season 7, so any era before that is fine :)"

Eyes on Me:

Summary/Request: "I hope I'm not too late, could I please get a Daryl Dixon fluff au with 'eyes on me' princess/knight protector au. Please and thank you

Pain in My Ass:

Summary/Request: "Cuddling for Warmth with Daryl Dixon 🥺🥺🥺"

In Bed:

Summary/Request: "WithDaryl Dixon, maybe angst with a happy ending? But totally free reign with whatever you want to write 💚"

Innuendo:

Summary/Request: "bodyguard vs guarded with daryl with the prompts “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” and “I’ll always keep you safe.”? i know this is the bare minimum but hopefully its something you can work with?"

Tempting:

Summary/Request: ""If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?" X Bodyguard AU with daryl ????"

What I Want:

Summary/Request: ""If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?" X Knight!Daryl !!!! Angsty fluff perhaps?"

Halloween:

Summary/Request: "dressing up, handing out candy to the little kids in their costumes trick-or-treating, pumpkin carving, that kinda stuff - with a partner "

Ex:

Summary/Request: "he lost her and that she didn’t survive. I mean that’s what he thought until when the group arrived in Alexandria, guess who was there to welcome them? Daryl’s “ex” girlfriend."

Broke Me First:

Summary/Request: "“you didn’t just break promises, you broke me” and “how many times am i supposed to forgive you?” angst with daryl please?"

Overprotective:

Summary/Request: "Overprotective!Darryl x reader"

Too Far:

Summary/Request: "I've been looking for a story of Daryl and Y/N, where an argument goes a little too far and Y/N end up fliching away. Soft and comforting Daryl💖"

Mangled:

Summary/Request: "Where, after the claimers attack, readers clothes get a little ripped and Daryl offers the angel best to cover her up! Very much fluff! 💕"

Braided:

Summary/Request: "Daryl went and was all grumpy and was about to leave until he saw the female reader wearing a dress and her hair tied in a beautiful braid that carol did on her?"

New Years:

Summary/Request: "Hi! Can I request Daryl with female reader any era having a new years kiss?"

Still Mad:

Summary/Request: "something angst but cute at the end as if daryl had moved away from reader(they were a couple) because of leah, and then she leaves with maggie, but at the end of season 10 they meet again."

Bad Guy:

Summary/Request: "Can you write a Daryl Dixon blurb with the prompts 7 and 18?"

Rubbing Off On You:

Summary/Request: "Can you write Daryl Dixon (set in commonwealth) where he's dating RJ and Judith's teacher?? I just think of someone so preppy and happy dating someone so gloomy and brooding like Daryl and I literally crack up."

I Got You:

Summary/Request: "Hi, could I please have a Daryl Dixon comfort/fluff request where the reader got her period and it's a sucky one so Daryl comforts her please and thank you?"

Guys My Age:

Summary/Request: "Daryl and the reader have had a 'sort of' sexual tension for a while but, given their age gap, Daryl's never made a point to act on it and neither has she. But it finally becomes too much when Daryl catches another man flirting with the reader."

Never Have I Ever:

Summary/Request: "May I request a Daryl x female reader the scene where he and Beth played “never have I ever” while drinking moonshine but with female reader?"

Him and I:

Summary/Request: "Daryl and his wife get separated at the fall of the prison but both manage to escape with another member of their crowd. After the reader and Glenn find Abraham and their group, almost after accepting they'll never find the rest of their families, they stumble in to Terminus. Will they be reunited or will the current state of the world impede them once more?"

Old Times:

Summary/Request: "May I request a Daryl with female reader where it’s during the prison ark. Carl or Rick find a working record player and play some records one night to liven up their spirits. Some start to dance while others smile and watch and female reader asks Daryl to dance with her?"

Just Share The Bed:

Summary/Request: "One Bed and Im not afraid of you."

Tough Guy:

Summary/Request: "Daryl Dixon and the prompt 'I’m not afraid of you.’"

Just Alright:

Summary/Request: "maybe daryl dixon and “stop pouting” toward the reader? sort of gentle but in charge vibes? 💙💙"

Need You:

Summary/Request: "could you do a Daryl dixon with "you're hurting me."

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth @emilyprentisslittlewhore @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9

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If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get to it!

#willsannievent #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #criiminal minds fanfiction

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cyborg-franky · 3 years

Note

Hi! I absolutely adore your writing 🥰 and I really appreciate that you’re doing SFW Halloween content to balance out the… energy this time of year 😅 really out here doin gods work.

Could I request a modern AU where the reader shows up to a Halloween party in a fabulous costume that’s completely accidentally a matching couples costume to any of the ASL boys? Maybe their friends planned it?? Dunno 🤷🏼‍♀️ thought it’d be cute ☺️ thanks!

OH WHAT A FUN REQUEST I thought I'd do all three for you in a headcannon style! I hope you don't mind I just wanted to do all three cus this is a cute prompt. And thank you for kind words <3 I am very glad you like my stuff bean!

- Your friends all knew you liked Ace and that feelings were returned but you still both remained clueless to one anothers feelings. - You wanted to come as something else to the party but your friends talked you into this one, you had no idea why. - The night of the party arrived and you felt good in your costume you'd put your own spin on the idea of 'little red riding hood' - When you catch up with Ace and see him in a wolf outfit you blush, you didn't mean to match but here you were. - Ace grins ear to ear and pulls you against him for a selfie. - "Oh wow we match! that's cool" He hums and pats you on the back. - The entire night people compliment you both on a cute couples costume and you notice Ace never corrects them on how you aren't a couple so you decide not to either. - It's alot of fun being his 'partner' for the night you decide. - When Ace sits with you alone he remarks it's cool you ended up in matching outfits, you think about your other friends.. and it clicks. - "I think it's because the guys know I like you, so they set me up" You say looking into your drink. - "Ooooh you like me huh?" He grins, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving you a wolfish grin.

- You didn't mind when your friends suggested this costume for you, you'd not had any of your own ideas after all. - You thought it looked nice, classy but also creepy. - The surprise on your face when you showed up to the party and Sabo basically matched you. - "We look like one of those couples that match!" Sabo laughed, his cheeks a little pink but he was pleased with the accidental matching, he'd had a crush on you for ages now and it could feel like you were a couple for one night. - You now had a feeling your friends had played you, knowing how you felt about the blond. - You got asked for your photo with Sabo a few times by various friends and you didn't hate that each time he got super close, an arm around you. - "I'm starting to think this was a set up" He said tapping his chin and watching you pour yourself and him a drink. - "Really? I think it's a common enough outfit.." You said passing him a cup. - "I ..I think they wanted us to match.. trying to get me to confess my feelings.." "O...oh!"

- You were not keen on being something as cliche as an angel, the wings would get in the way, the halo would annoy you but your friends kept telling you to get it. - You sighed and allowed yourself to be talked into it. - The moment you saw Luffy with his devil costume on it all fell into place and you side eyed your friends. - "OH COOL WE MATCH!" Luffy yelled from across the room and rushed over to you, giving you a friendly embrace and lifting you off the ground. - Friends snickering at how red your face went, blushing like crazy and trying to hide your face with your hands before he set you down. - It was fun matching him, he chuckled when people asked him if you came as a pair and just shrugged with a big grin. - The fact he wasn't insulted of defensive when people assumed you a couple was a good sign. - Confessing to Luffy though? you watched him talk happily with your friends who pointed to you, his wide eyes stared at you before nodding his head. - Seems like the choice to confess wasn't yours any more as Luffy gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

#ace d portgas #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #sfw #gender neutral reader #gender identity #luffy #ace x you #ace x reader #sabo x reader insert #sabo one piece x reader #sabo the revolutionary #portgas d ace #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy

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twilightt-fantasy · 3 years

Text

Aro Volturi Masterlist

telekinesis - can I have a Aro x reader one shot where the reader has telekinesis and telepathy that’s strong enough to kill vampires despite the fact that shes a human. He’s really surprised when the volturi capture her to feed on, and she fights back

witness - reader used to be apart of the voltori like one of the top guards but left and then years later she got a call from Carlisle to be a witness and then volturi see her and idk i was hoping for some aro love you know?

attention - can you write an Aro x Reader. Where theyre mates and he has been away for a while and his mate is starting to miss him so much it hurts mentally and physically. But then he returns and gives his mate the attention they craved?

caretaker + part two - i was imagining the kings meeting an immortal child, made illegally, being the kid able to control her/his thirst and being very powerful, enough that they decided to keep he/her However, the kid is attached to a human woman with a possible talent( only for Aro) and they take her too till they decided what to do, making her their secretary till that happens. Meanwhile, Aro falls in love/lust with her?

talent - could I get one with Aro where the reader has a talent the Volturi want to study, and Aro is fascinated by her and spends lots of time testing what she can do, and keeps standing really close whenever they talk and lingering whenever he touches her, and she’s getting really flustered and he ends up deciding she’s powerful enough to be a Volturi mate and kisses her. Thanks!

protection (+ marcus/caius) - can I have 57 with Caius, Aro and Marcus? As a poly ask? Thank youu💕💕(“Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”)

hit on (+ marcus/caius) - do you think I might be able to request an imagine where the reader is mated to the Kings (like a poly relationship.) And she gets hit on/cat called by one of the lower guards. Possibly someone else sees, and spreads it throughout the guard until the Kings eventually find out?

burn (+ marcus/caius) - maybe the Volturi Kings with a fem!mate (all three mated to the same person.) who accidentally burns herself (its super small, but she still feels it but she brushes it off) Anyways the Kings see and they FREAK because fire is like the only thing that can completely kill a vampire

trouble (+ marcus/caius) - hello, I would like to request please a poly relationship with the reader and the Volturi leaders where the reader wants to outside, but her mates say no, but she sneaks out anyway, and something terrible happens

witch (+ marcus/caius) - can I request a scenario in which the reader is the three volturi kings mate (like a poly relationship) but not a human. She’s actually a which and can’t be turned into a vamp bc she’s already supernatural. While witches don’t age past 21, they don’t have super strength or healing like vamps, which is why they’re really protective of her. Thing is she hates it, bc she can protect herself with magic and doesn’t like being coddled

sister (+ marcus/caius) - where the reader is Bell’s littile sister. And she finds out she is the Volturi King’s mate during the battle.

snow day (+ marcus/caius)- can I request a one-shot for Christmas with the kings and they mate. Them love the christmas time and go out the castle/escape to see the snow falling in Volterra on a beautiful day. Would be funny and romantic awww! ❄☃️🖤

baby (+ marcus/caius) - in your opinion how would react and act the three Volturi king (as a poly or not, what you prefer) with a s/o who is a single mother with a very young kid (like 2-3 y/o). They would accept the baby? They would think about him/her as theirs? If yes, when the baby calls them “dad” what woul be their reaction?

costume party (+ marcus/caius) - the reader is excited to show her mates her halloween costume

midnight snacks (+ marcus/caius) - 1 with the volturi kings from the Christmas prompt list (“Are you eating cookies right now? It’s 3 AM!” “If Santa can do it so can I.”)

stand up (+ marcus/caius) - I have yet to see one of these (kinda?-) But I was hoping if you could do a Poly relationship with the Volturi kings, where the reader is shy as heck and is related to the one and only, Bella swan?

enough for you (+ marcus/caius) - Can I Request the volturi kings (poly or separate either is fine) with a mate who feels like they aren’t good enough for them. Like maybe they are bit more childish and scatterbrained (maybe they have adhd and/or dyslexia) for their age. And they feel so inferior like even the receptionist who is younger than them is way more put together. Thanks!

volturi kings with a childish s/o

poly relationship with volturi kings

#aro volturi #twilight masterlist #masterlist

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aceghosts · 3 years

Text

Writing Masterpost

LAST UPDATED: 2/26/2022

(Thank you to @blissfulalchemist for the banner!)

So, I’ve decided to pull all my writings on Tumblr into one masterpost, which will make it easier for people to find things. Under the Read More, I will list the fandoms I’ve written for in alphabetical order. In general, here are the tags where you can find what I’ve written:

Kate Writes-This contains all WIPs and Pieces I’ve written, regardless of fandom.

The Blue Fic Tag--This contains all WIPs and Pieces I’ve written for my Deputy, Blue Murphy.

The Rooney Fic Tag- This contains all WIPs and Pieces I’ve written for my Commander Shepard, Rooney.

FAR CRY 5

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

Series Summary: Follow Deputy Blue Murphy as they try to put an end to the war between Eden's Gate and Hope County.

Series Parts:

And Hell Followed with Him (Tumblr | AO3)

You’ve Been Given a Gift (Tumblr | AO3)

Accidental Savior (Tumblr | AO3)

Oh, The Reckoning Begins

Series Summary: Five years ago, Junior Deputy Blue Murphy disappeared with Joseph Seed at the final standoff, only to be found a year later in Dutch's bunker. Now, five years later from that final standoff, Blue Murphy and Hope County have moved on with their lives. However, new sinister forces threaten Blue's life, and they will have to rely on the man who started this all to survive: Joseph Seed.

Chapter 1 (Tumblr | AO3) | Chapter 2 (Tumblr | AO3)

Other Pieces

Show You What All That Howlin’s For (Tumblr | AO3)

Summary: New Junior Deputy and Werewolf Blue Murphy moves to Hope County. Unfortunately, an old enemy from their past reappears.

A Valentine's Day Surprise (Tumblr | AO3)

Summary: An idea comes to Hurk. A real good one, and man, Sharky really is a fucking genius at this kind of stuff. “Hold on, I think I’ve got something. You ready for Team Shurky to kick ass at Valentine’s Day?” He holds out his fist to bump with Sharky’s.

–

Hurk and Sharky plan a surprise Valentine’s Day for Maeve.

Tumblr Prompts

Touch...As a Promise (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

"I need you to know that you can always come to me". (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

"One day, you're going to wish you never met me". (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

"Do you trust me?" "Always". (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

“Darling please, I promise I won’t make a mess this time.” (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

"Don't be sorry... it was kinda cute actually." (Blue Murphy /Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?” (Blue Murphy/Grace Armstrong, Blue Murphy & GFH) Tumblr | AO3

"Halloween parties aren't really my thing, but since you're gonna be there I think I might reconsider." (Blue Murphy/Grace Armstrong) Tumblr | AO3

"Just open the damn present." (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

Spotify Wrapped #55: Take Control by the Old Gods of Asgard (Blue Murphy/Grace Armstrong) Tumblr

"How did you get this scar?" (Blue Murphy/Grace Armstrong) Tumblr | AO3

“Where do you get your hope? What keeps you going during all this? ” (Blue Murphy & Sharky Boshaw) Tumblr | AO3

Whumptober 2021

Day 1: All Trussed Up and Still Nowhere to Go (Blue Murphy/Grace Armstrong) Tumblr | AO3

Day 3: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But… (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

Day 4: Trust Fall (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

Day 9: Rumors of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated (Blue Murphy/Grace Armstrong) Tumblr | AO3

Day 11: Just Keep Swimming (Blue Murphy & Sharky Boshaw) Tumblr | AO3

Day 12: It’ll Be Fun, They Said (Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

Day 13: That’s Gonna Leave a Mark (Blue Murphy & Dutch Roosevelt) Tumblr | AO3

Day 14: Under Pressure (Blue Murphy & John Seed; Blue Murphy/Joseph Seed) Tumblr | AO3

Day 15: Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever (Blue Murphy & Faith Seed) Tumblr | AO3

MASS EFFECT

Tumblr Prompts

Touch...In Relief (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Touch...In Joy (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Listening to Each Other's Heartbeat (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Grabbing the Other's Hand to Pull Them Back from Something (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Not really paying attention, both doing something else, but still holding hands (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

6. Getting caught in autumn showers + 29. “There’s a leaf in your hair.” (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Spotify Wrapped #13: The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr

7. Kissing in the snow + 30. “Why does the house smell like its burning?” (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Whumptober 2021

Day 5: I’ve Got Red in My Ledger (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Day 6: Touch and Go (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Day 7: My Spidey-Sense is Tingling (Rooney Shepard & Joker) Tumblr | AO3

Day 10: Oops, I Did It Again (Rooney Shepard & Tali) Tumblr | AO3

Day 16: On a Need to Know Basis (Rooney Shepard/Thane Krios) Tumblr | AO3

Day 17: Field Care 101 (Rooney Shepard & Garrus Vakarian) Tumblr | AO3

Day 18: The Doctor is In (Rooney Shepard & Dr. Chloe Michel) Tumblr | AO3

RWBY

Fair Game Week 2021

Day 1: Tumblr | AO3

Day 2: Tumblr | AO3

Day 3: Tumblr | AO3

Day 4: Tumblr | AO3

Day 5: Tumblr | AO3

Day 6: Tumblr | AO3

#kate writes #the blue fic tag #the rooney fic tag

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marvelslut16 · 3 years

Text

Inseparable

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x reader

Synopsis: Reader and Reggie have been best friends since they were toddlers, nothing tearing them apart until Veronica their Junior year. This follows the rise and downfall of their friendship. Can they mend their friendship and be back to what they once were, will they be too hurt to fix their broken hearts, or will they finally admit their feelings for one another?

Word count: 2.6K+ (my hand slipped)

Warnings: Mr. Honey; he’s the worst villain to ever enter Riverdale, you can’t change my mind. Mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic past the mention of a black eye. Some angst. Spoilers for s4e4 technically, I still can’t believe what Mr. Honey did.

A/N: I have like 11 requests I still have to get to, yikes. I swear I’ll do them soon, but inspiration hit and I ended up writing this. there isn’t enough Reggie love on Tumblr, plus I have a tiny crush on Charles Melton, so writing this was a win win. let me know what you think, and if I should write more for Riverdale. Veggie is better than Varchie (don’t come for me), but I still think Reggie deserves better than Ronnie.

Growing up in a small town like Riverdale there weren’t too many kids to become friends with, but when you met Reggie Mantle on your first day of preschool you knew he would be your best friend for life. Archie was showing off on the playground by walking up the slide when the teacher wasn’t looking. The problem then being that Archie's foot slipped right as you were walking passed the bottom of the slide, and he slid down and ended up knocking you on the ground. You started to cry because he scraped your arm bad enough that it started to bleed. Reggie, whom you shared a table with in class, watched from the sidelines as your teacher helped you up and took you to the nurse, he got his revenge during arts and crafts later that day- ‘accidentally’ spilling red paint all over the front of Archie’s khaki pants. When Reggie made it to the table you quietly thanked him and shared your paint with him since the teacher said he couldn’t have new paint as a lesson to be more careful next time.

As the years went on, yours and Reggie’s friendship only grew until you were inseparable; you two went on family vacations together, you went to every single one of his junior bulldog football games from the ages of eight to twelve, he went to your ballet recitals when you took classes in grade school even bringing you roses. Reggie was your rock at your grandmother’s funeral, you helped him pass his geometry class Sophomore year so he could stay on the football team, and you were the only person that he opened up to about his father’s abuse- having witnessed it with your own eyes a handful of times.

Your mom was convinced you and Reggie would fall in love and get married one day, and your father was convinced your friendship would crumble and ultimately go down in a blazing fire. Going into your senior year you hate to admit that your father was right, his words bouncing around in your skull every time your brain shut off for longer than two seconds. Veronica Lodge moved to town Sophomore year, enticing every boy within a fifty mile radius with her upper East side charm. Reggie didn’t fall for Veronica right away, he fell for her junior year when he was helping her with La Bonne Nuit. And as cliche as it is, that’s when you realized you were in love with him, you had been for a while. The small nagging voice in the back of your head told you that it had been since that day in preschool.

But you would grin and bear the pain, the soul crushing pain, if it meant that Reggie would still be in your life. And you did, for a while at least; until Reggie stopped calling and texting you back, until he stopped begging you to come to his games, until he stopped sneaking into your room every friday night after a game to go over the play footage where you would help him come up with new plays and tweaks to the old ones, until he started ignoring you in the halls in favor of making out with Veronica. You never hated the girl, she had been nothing but nice to you anytime you would interact, but God, you just wished she would disappear and give you your Reggie back.

You resented Veronica, leading your interactions with the girl to be more tense and your answers clipped, and that was what led to the blazing fire your father talked about. Reggie offered you a ride home one day after school, and of course you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him again. Instead of going to pops and talking like you thought you would, the two of you got into your biggest, and last, fight ever.

It started with Reggie asking why you hated Veronica, where you defended yourself and swore that you didn’t. But he wouldn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth, continuing to press you as you two kept driving. The closer you got to the edge of town the worse the fighting got, your voice raising along with his. You accuse him of abandoning his friends, abandoning you, to be with Veronica all the time. He gets mad that you don’t understand why he’s with her all the time, claiming that you couldn’t understand not when you’ve never had a boyfriend. Something that he’s the reason for, since he scared all of the guys even remotely interested in you away with just one piercing glare or one lowly growled threat.

The comment picking on your relationship status, or lack thereof, is the straw that broke the camel's back. You let loose just as you pass the sign thanking you for visiting Riverdale, the town with pep. Pep your ass, the small town is full of death and endless heartache wherever you look. You rip into Reggie, letting the hurt take over as you scream and scream at him-calling him a terrible friend. He finally screams back, claiming that you’re worse because you hate his girlfriend. He has to pull his precious car over, the car you helped him pick out when he turned sixteen, because he started swerving when you two got into a screaming match.

The interaction ends with you getting out of the car on the side of the road leading into Greendale, slamming the car door behind you, knowing that he’ll get mad with how aggressive you’re being with his baby, his Bella. He does a sharp U-turn driving beside you, trying to coax you into getting back in the car with him. But you can’t do that, you can’t face him right now. So as you watch the taillights of the gun metal grey Chevelle disappear around the curve in the road you finally let the tears fall down your face, they stream harder and faster the closer you get to reentering the town with pep.

Reggie had dropped your backpack off at your house when he got back into town, so it was sitting there waiting for you in your living room alongside your worried mother. You cried into her arms that night for hours, until you were all cried out, not caring that you look like a big baby. You had just lost Reggie, you had just lost your everything. You hadn’t talked to him since that day in the middle of your junior year, even after him and Veronica broke up and she went back to Archie like always. The days of your senior year seemed to fly by, October coming in what felt like mere days as opposed to months, and your last Halloween in Riverdale is today.

You and Reggie would always wear matching costumes to trick or treat, and school just for fun as you got older, this always prompted your classmates to wonder if you two were finally dating. But that wouldn’t be happening this year, for the first time ever. You had even dressed up and sat on his porch in costume when you were six, handing out candy to the other kids so you could talk to Reggie, who was in costume too, through the window because he was sick with a 102.2 degree fever. You were dressed as Kim and Ron that year, his mom had even crocheted him a little Rufus to stick in his pocket. You couldn’t wait to get out of this town, away from Reggie, away from the places where you would see ghosts of your younger selves everywhere you went.

Kevin calls you freaking out after he and Reggie got caught tp’ing Mr. Honey’s office. Kevin caved after Mr. Honey threatened to make sure he wouldn’t get into NYU if he didn’t. Kevin felt guilty for his actions, and even though you hadn’t talked to Reggie in close to a year you were worried about him. Worried what his dad might do to him when he hears he got in trouble at school again, and worried what the unhinged Mr. Honey might do to him himself.

You don’t hear anything from Reggie the next day, not that you really expect to. You more-so hope he’ll call you, but you know what they say about hope- it breeds eternal misery. The day goes by at a snail's pace as you stare at your phone throughout the entirety of said day. You finally curl in on yourself and go to sleep after midnight, however sleep doesn’t stay for long. You’re awoken around two in the morning from your phone’s incessant ringing, in your dazed stupor you don’t realize it’s Reggie’s special ringtone- the bulldog cheer from Kim Possible.

“Hello?” you ask hoarsely, making sure to stay quiet so your parents won’t hear.

“(Y/N/N), can you talk?” your startled to hear Reggie’s voice on the other line. It sounds scratchy, like he was recently in a screaming match with someone. You open your eyes for the first time, finally accepting that you won’t be able to just roll over and slip back into your dreams. You glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table and your eyes widen at the time.

“It’s like two in the morning Reg,” you sigh, hoping he’ll wait till morning.

“Can I come over?” Reggie’s pleading now.

“Later, we can go to Pop’s for lunch or something,” you yawn loudly into the phone in protest.

“I’m already here,” before you can respond the line goes dead.

You can hear quiet, almost not there, footsteps outside your window as Reggie expertly navigates his way through the flowers and bushes outside your window. He taps on the window three times in quick succession, your old signal for when he would sneak over letting you know it was him at your window. You reluctantly get out of your warm cozy bed, stumbling to the window to open it for your former best friend.

Your plans for just slipping back into bed anf hopefully nodding off while he talks go out the window as you come face to face with Reggie’s swollen face. He has a split lip and a black eye, you’re sure he has belt marks on his back too. You don't care that Reggie is climbing through the window a little too loudly, your sole focus now on fixing him up. Once he’s in the room you sneak to the kitchen and quietly grab an ice pack, stopping in the bathroom to grab rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and ibuprofen.

You hand him the pain reliever and your bottle of water, it’s not the first time you’ve shared, as soon as you shut your bedroom door behind you. He swallows the pills down with ease, and you both settle on your bed, a sad depressing routine. You don’t say anything as you clean his split lip, he winces slightly when the alcohol drenched cotton ball makes contact with his open wound.

“Mr. Honey caught Kevin and I last night,” Reggie admits quietly.

“I heard, Kevin told me,” you murmur unsure of where this conversation is headed, so you continue to dab at his lip.

“Mr Honey, he said that no one takes me seriously, no one since you. He said that he heard around school that I made my ‘persona’ bigger, became more of a prankster, after I lost you. He-he knew about my dad, (Y/N),” Reggie’s voice cracks, you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now. “Said people at school are laughing at me, worst of all, you’re laughing at me.”

“Oh sweetie, no!” you're quick to jump in and defend. “I would never laugh at you, you know that. Never. No one else is either, he was just saying that to get a rise out of you.” Your arm moves without your permission, you push a strand of black hair out of his eyes before caressing his cheek softly.

“He tp’d my car, that I get. That was actually funny,” Reggie hisses, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re lightly pressing the ice pack to his shiner or because of what he’s about to say next. “But he broke Bella’s windshield, shattered her passenger side window, and busted her left headlight.”

“I’ll kill him!” you jump up from your spot on your bed, no longer caring if you wake your parents. Reggie holds the ice pack to his eye with his right hand, cautiously reaching for your hands with his left. You calm down when his fingers intertwine with yours, sinking back down next to him.

“I avoided going home all day, but when I did and my dad saw the car,” Reggie takes in a shaky breath, and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. “He did, well he did this.” He uses your joined hands to gesture towards his face.

You don’t say anything, instead just pulling him in for a hug. Reggie tenses at first before melting into your warm embrace. You pull him down onto the bed with you so you're laying side by side, he rests his head on your chest as you tuck the two of you in.

“I know we haven’t talked in a while,” you let out dissatisfied hum as you card your fingers soothingly through his hair. “But you're the only person I wanted to see, the only person I ever want to see. It’s been torture without you (Y/N).”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you say under your breath, but he hears you clearly with his ear pressed to your chest.

“I was an idiot, I let my ego keep me from you,” he moves his head to look up at you, his brown eyes shine with sincerity.

“Don’t do this right now Reggie,: your eyes fill with tears, “Don’t do or say anything you don’t mean just to make me feel better.”

Reggie moves his right arm from around your waist to brush away a stray tear that slipped out of your eye. He moves his thumb down your cheek to your lips, tracing them with the pad of his thumb. Reggie lightly tugs down on your lower lip causing you to uncage it from your teeth, when did you even bite it in the first place?

“I love you (Y/N), I always have,” he looks away from your mouth so he can stare into your eyes. “And I think you have too.”

“I have, I love you so much Reggie,” he pulls your face down to meet him. The kiss is searing, and a little wet due to the tears leaking out of both of your eyes, but it’s perfect. You pull back when you get the slightly tangy taste of blood on your tongue. You immediately fuss over Reggie’s lip, said lip splitting again during the makeout. Reggie pulls you back down onto the bed and into his arms after you’ve dabbed at his lip with the cotton ball again.

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes shine with unshed tears as he stares lovingly at your face, almost like he’s mesmerized by you. “Not just tonight, but leaving you for Ronnie so I could try to get over you, and for every other night you’ve taken care of me.”

“Just never leave me again,” you whimper, which is cut off when he kisses you again.

“Never,” Reggie’s never been more serious about anything in his life.

You cuddle up to Reggie’s chest, his warmth and scent quickly lulling you into a deep comforting sleep. You don’t care that he should sneak out the window and go home, or that your mom will find you two cuddled up in your twisted sheets when she comes to check on you at ten. All you care about is Reggie being safe, in your arms, and finally having him back in your life-but with one vast improvement to your relationship.

Permenent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#reggie mantle x reader #reggie mantle #riverdale #riverdale imagine #reggie mantle imagine #reggie mantle one shot #reggie mantle x y/n #reggie mantle x you #riverdale fanfiction #reggie mantle fanfiction #reggie mantle deserves better #holden honey was an ass #if i ever see him again it'll be too soon

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love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

Caged Fae: Halloween

M Fae X F reader, 6,041 words

Enjoy a Halloween festival with your roommate Fae, Yarrow. Have fun taking in the sights of the seasons. This story is a continuation of Caged Fae, which can be found here.

Delicately, you adjusted the mask so that it sat snugly on Yarrow’s face. “What do you think?”

Yarrow blinked out at you, his gaze as steady and unperturbed as ever. “Any opinions?” you pressed. “Yes? No?”

He reached up and delicately unhooked the mask from his face. Delicately, he folded the ribbon, tucked it into the mask, and handed the whole thing back to you. “Is that a no?” you said.

Yarrow smiled enigmatically. He got up and wandered back across the room to the small pile of gourds you had collected. You followed after him.

Come on. You have to give me some hint. I thought this would go well with your antlers,” you said. The mask was made of light wood and molded into the rough shape of a deer’s face. There were deep red and gold markings painted along the eyes and curves of the mask, giving it a striking look. “Don’t you want to go out without hiding your antlers?”

Yarrow turned his head and looked at you for a moment. It had been a few months since you’d rescued him, and he had tagged along with you to the market a few times after glamouring his antlers. His quiet, polite demeanor had earned him a few admirers, mostly the older women who treated him like a beloved nephew. “It’s All Hallow’s Eve,” you prompted gently. “It’s a party. Don’t you want to go out?”

Yarrow patted your hand for a moment, then went back to fiddling with the gourds. You sighed. Fae were mysterious creatures, and when Yarrow was in one of his moods, there was no getting through to him.

Instead, you picked up the mask and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in an hour or so,” you called over your shoulder. “Hold down the fort for me.”

There were hurried footsteps behind you. You turned to see Yarrow holding out your coat. He shook it at you, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh. Thank you,” you said, slipping into it. Yarrow nodded, then retreated back to the pile of gourds. You slipped out the door and down the path to the town center.

There was a bite of cold to the air as you walked, and the trees had exploded into fiery color. The town was bustling- All Hallow’s Eve was in less than a week and everyone was trying to get the final festival details in order.

“How was the mask?” Mr. Demark asked as you stopped at his stall. His usual trade was carpentry, but around this time of year, he also sold beautiful wooden masks. His wife, who designed and painted most of them, perked up, waiting for your verdict.

You slid the mask across the stall’s table toward them. “Sorry. I don’t think this one is what he wants either.”

“That boy,” Mrs. Demark said, picking up the mask and examining it. “Not easily satisfied, is he?”

You’d taken four masks from the stand so far, an owl, a wolf, a bobcat, and finally the deer. Yarrow had tried each of them on with perfect patience, then taken them back off and handed them to you. “I’m sure he wants something specific,” you said. “I just don’t know what it is.”

“Any luck teaching him to write yet?” Mrs. Demark asked. You shook your head. You were pretty sure Yarrow could read as well as he could understand you, but every time he wrote anything, it was in an odd, swirly script that you couldn’t make sense of at all. You weren’t sure if he wasn’t writing because he refused to write in a human language for some reason or if he physically couldn’t, but the result was the same. It didn’t help that Yarrow never seemed terribly concerned with whether or not you understood him.

“I’d like him to dress up,” you said. “I do want him to be able to enjoy the festival. But he just doesn’t seem to like anything I give him.”

“Want to try another one?” Mr. Demark asked. You glanced over the few masks he still had. There weren’t many left; it was close enough to the holiday itself that most people had secured their costumes.

“I don’t know,” you said after a moment, shaking your head. “I don’t want to bring him back something he doesn’t want again.”

“Here.” Mrs. Demark rummaged in her pouch and passed you a few coins. “Your money back. Don’t want you to waste it on something you’re not going to use.”

You tucked the money away. “I’m sorry about Yarrow.” Mrs. Demark waved you off.

“Never mind. Perhaps he just doesn’t like costumes,” she said. You nodded and headed off into the rest of the market.

The more you turned the words over in your mind, the more likely they seemed. Yarrow had been held captive in a circus, after all, where odd costumes were the norm. Perhaps masks brought back bad memories. Your stomach tightened at the thought of it. Maybe it would be uncomfortable to be out at all and he was just trying to be polite and humor you.

You finished up your shopping and hurried home a little after the sun had set. Yarrow was standing outside when you got home, apparently unbothered by the cold, as he was wearing only his usual thin clothes. He straightened when he saw you approaching, looking at you intently.

“Hey,” you said as you walked up to him. “Everything okay?”

Yarrow tilted his head, considering you for a moment. “Sorry I’m late,” you said with a glance at the sky. “I know I said it’d only be an hour, but, you know. Things kind of got away from me. I got you something,” you added, hoping to get Yarrow to stop looking at you with a vaguely disapproving expression. Apparently, he wasn’t easily bribed, because the furrow in his brow just deepened.

You stepped into the house and pulled off your coat. There was already a fire in the stove and stepping into the glow helped drive away the chill that had sunk through your skin. “Here,” you said, passing one of the packages to Yarrow. He turned it over in his hands. “They’re spiced cookies. A specialty from a local bakery.”

He nibbled at one delicately as you unpacked everything else. Yarrow seemed to appreciate heavily spiced foods, you’d noticed, or ones with a strong scent. It had taken you an embarrassingly long time to realize that was because he couldn’t taste anything.

He ate slowly while you put all your things away. Occasionally, he would reach out and turn one of your purchases over in his hand, or run his fingers over a bolt of fabric. You’d purchased several items that were more frivolous than usual- you had more money to spend thanks to Yarrow and the end of fall also signaled the end of traveling merchants. It had been a bit fun to pick up some interesting items for the winter.

“I thought this might be nice for you,” you said, holding out a long bolt of fabric. It was soft, but weighty, and made of a deep forest green. Next to it, you held up a section of white fur. It had been fairly expensive, but you had been almost compelled to buy it. It looked regal, elegant, and it fit with Yarrow’s otherworldly air. He rolled it in his hands, examining the texture of the fur.

“What do you think?” you asked. “I know you don’t technically need a winter coat, but if we go out, it’ll look weird if you’re not wearing one, and I thought it would look nice.”

Yarrow stared down at the fabric, running his fingers over and over it. Finally, he lifted his head and gave you a smile. Relief lightened your chest. “Okay. Good.”

The nights were getting colder and colder. Yarrow seemed entirely unbothered by it, but you had started keeping the fire on at night and dragging out your heavier quilts. Still, it didn’t quite drive away the cold. You still woke up shivering and the quilt was cold when you got into it every night. Yarrow still slept mostly on the floor, rarely even bothering with a pillow.

You had no idea if that was something typical of Fae or if being trapped in a cage had given him odd notions of comfort.

It took a couple of days to pluck up the nerve to ask Yarrow about All Hallow’s Eve. Part of that was just you being uncertain how to approach the content. You didn’t want to accidentally upset him. He’d given no indication that he was traumatized by it, but he also hadn’t given any indication that he wasn’t. It was hard to tell when he didn’t talk and his expressions seemed generally aloof. Trying to pick a way to approach him that was neither too insensitive nor too timid was an awkward space to fit into.

The other problem with talking to Yarrow was that it had become rather difficult to find him.

Pulling a vanishing act in a house that only had three rooms was pretty impressive, but Yarrow managed. He moved soundlessly, aided by the face that he was pretty much always barefoot. Most of the time, you would look up only to find he had completely vanished from the room with no sign of where he’d gone.

If he wasn’t inside, he was usually in the garden. Yarrow never wandered all that far from you. He’d never moved all that far from the house if you were inside, despite not really having a reason to stay. You were grateful for his presence, nonetheless. He was surprisingly good company.

Finding him in the garden could still be a bit of a task, though. With his influence, the garden had grown enormously, with plants sprouting into enormous tangles of leaves and vines. It took time to search the whole thing, and it was really starting to get cold outside. You shivered under an icy wind as you picked your way through the garden. “Yarrow?” you called. “Yarrow, are you out here?”

Something to your left rustled and you turned to see Yarrow emerging from a thicket of berry bushes. They were still green, despite the frost creeping up, but you were pretty sure even Yarrow’s powers weren’t going to last forever. A few of the leaves had already given up and littered the ground beneath them. Yarrow brushed some leaves off his front and looked at you questioningly.

“Oh, here, let me-” You reached up and brushed a leaf from his hair. “There’s one in your antlers. Hold on…” Without thinking, you grabbed the antler and tugged his head down, pulling the offending leaf off from where it had been impaled. Yarrow complied with your tugging, showing not even the slightest hint of resistance as you tugged on his head. The realization of what you were doing struck you and you released him. “Oh. Er. Sorry.” Yarrow straightened back up and looked at you curiously. “Right. Um. Can we talk?”

Asking to talk with Yarrow was mostly just asking if it was okay for you to talk at him, but he nodded and headed back into the house. You followed him inside, hanging up the shawl you’d tossed on before heading outside. Admittedly, it had done very little against the chill.

Something heavy fell onto your shoulder. You looked up as Yarrow tucked a blanket around your shoulders and pushed you toward the fire. “Oh, I’m fine. You don’t need to-” Yarrow tugged your hands insistently. “Okay, okay. I’m sitting.”

You settled in front of the fire, readjusting the blanket so it was more secure on your shoulders. Yarrow sat across from you, the firelight flickering across his features. It cast sharp shadows on his face. “So, All Hallow’s Eve is in a couple of days.” Yarrow nodded. “I just, you know wanted to talk about it.” Yarrow tilted his head patiently, waiting for you to go on. “I just wanted to ask about… how you’re feeling about this? I mean, going out in costumes and everything. I know you were kept for a while in a place where they used costumes a lot, and you seemed uncomfortable when we were trying on all those masks. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That this wasn’t bringing back any bad memories.”

Yarrow stared at you. He tilted his head a little, blinking. “Yes? No?” you said. “It’s okay if you want to stay home. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, then his expression softened. His lips turned up in a small smile and his shoulders shook in a way you recognized- Yarrow was laughing. He reached out and patted your hand. His fingers were warm and strong.

“Is that a no?” you asked. “You’re okay with going out?”

Yarrow got to his feet and patted your head. The gesture was small, but full of so much affection that your throat constricted a little. He was rarely expressive with his feelings, so you were always startled when he was affectionate. Yarrow smiled serenely at you, then strolled back outside. You stared after him. Apparently, the conversation was over. You’d gotten the impression that he wasn’t bothered, at least. Maybe he just wasn’t a fan of masks. If he really didn’t want to go out, you supposed he would find a way to let you know.

You saw Yarrow less frequently in the few days leading up to All Hallow’s Eve. He showed up for mealtimes and sat with you then, but for the rest of the day, he was outside, doing who knew what. For all you knew, this was normal Fae behavior in fall. You kept an eye on him, but he seemed okay, so you didn’t worry too much about it.

The festival for All Hallow’s Eve started in the afternoon, so you spent the morning pulling together your costume. It wasn’t especially interesting- in fact, it was sort of a rehash of the outfit you’d put on the year before. Most costumes were focused on hiding identity rather than trying to actively look like something else. You’d picked up a simple rodent mask, something that looked equally like a squirrel and a mouse, and wore brown robes with a shabby fur ruff around your neck. It was simplistic, but you hadn’t really put that much effort into your costume that year- your initial plan had been to coordinate with Yarrow, and his disinterest had soured your own desire. In fact, the fur ruff was the only difference between this year and the last one. The mask and robe were the same.

You’d just finished gathering the requisite components and spreading them out when Yarrow abruptly reappeared. He didn’t come in from the outside or step out from another room; you just looked down for a moment and when you looked back up, he was standing there as if he’d been present all along. It had startled you the first few times he’d done it, but living with him, you’d gradually acclimated to it.

“What do you think?” you asked, gesturing to the outfit. “I don’t have anything for you, but you can at least keep your antlers out.”

Yarrow looked down at the costume for a moment, studying intently. He plucked at the fur ruff, then curled his lip. “No?” you asked. Yarrow shook his head and grabbed your hand. He tugged on your arm, pulling you along with him.

“Where are we going?” you asked. He pulled you outside and through the garden. It had wilted a lot in the past few days, dried branches sticking out into the path. Yarrow pulled you past them, into a thicket of bushes. They had grown into a sort of bramble wall, providing a secluded area. Carefully draped over the bushes were two beautiful outfits.

One of them was deep green, with heavy, elegant robes. A faint leaf pattern shimmered on it, only visible under direct sunlight. Little pink and yellow flowers sprouted along the hems. You weren’t sure, but you thought they might be alive. Placed on top of the robe was an elegantly carved mask. It was roughly in the shape of a deer, but there appeared to be real flowers sprouting over the surface in a way that colored and textured it. The entire thing looked ethereal.

“Did you make that?” you asked, your voice hushed with awe. Yarrow nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

Yarrow reached for the second outfit and picked up the second mask. It was done in a similar style, also resembling a deer, but it was a little smaller and rounder. The flowers set on it were pale yellow and orange, sprouting so that they created the illusion of shading. The outfit beneath the mask bore similar elegant robes, but these were made in a deep, burnt orange, with faint lines that looks like tree branches stretching out from the seams. A thick ruff of fur lay under them, a deep and rich brown. It was the softest thing you had ever felt.

Yarrow moved so you were facing him and tilted your chin up. Slowly and carefully, he reached out and placed the mask onto your face. There was no attaching string or hooks, but that didn’t seem to matter. It settled perfectly on your face, contoured to your features.

“You made this for me?” Your voice was quiet and there was a slight catch to it. Yarrow gave a small nod. “It’s beautiful.” Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pulled Yarrow into a hug. He stiffened, but only for a second. Then his arms came in around you and he gave a small squeeze back.

“We should, um, get changed,” you said as you broke away from him. You gathered up your outfit and hurried back to the house. Despite never having taken any measurements (at least, not that you’d ever seen), the outfit was perfectly sized. It was also surprisingly warm. Even without the fur ruff, you felt comfortable.

You’d just slid on the mask when Yarrow returned to the house. The outfit had looked beautiful just sitting on the ground; on Yarrow’s body, it was ethereal. With his face half-hidden by the mask, he looked inhuman, but beautifully so.

“Wow,” you said. “You look amazing.” Yarrow’s lips quirked into a small smile. He reached into his pocket and removed a small looking glass that he held up to you.

For a moment, you couldn’t recognize yourself. There must have been some Fae magic in the mask and clothes, because, under the mask, you could see your skin had taken on a slight glow. The mask looked almost alive on your face. You were almost surprised to see that it didn’t mold to your expressions.

“Thank you,” you said. Yarrow smiled broadly, then took your hand. With a firm insistence, he pulled you toward the door.

The chill barely touched you as you stepped out into the crisp autumn afternoon. The sun had already started to slip downward in the sky, threatening to set. Yarrow slowed his pace as you headed toward the festival, but his hand stayed around yours.

The festival was already in full swing when you arrived. There were banners and decorations draped along the streets and booths were set up all throughout the town. Many of them sold food or drink, some sold little trinkets to keep evil spirits away, and some were peddling some of their crafted items, styled specifically for the festival. There were also a few game booths, areas set up for storytelling, and a few contest stands. You peered at some of the woven bolts of fabric that sat in a contest booth. Yarrow gave you a questioning look.

“Oh, I didn’t want to enter because you helped me. It felt unfair to have Fae magic in it,” you said. Yarrow still looked confused. You had a feeling that an ethics conversation with a Fae wouldn’t go well. “Maybe next year,” you said noncommittally.

“Look at you!” Yarrow flinched as a hand clapped down on his shoulder. “Those are some nice costumes.” Mr. Demark was standing behind you, a broad grin on his face. “Where’d you get those masks? They sure aren’t some of mine.”

“Yarrow made them,” you said.

“Did he now?” Mr. Demark leaned in close. You felt Yarrow’s back stiffen next to you. “It’s impressive. Wouldn’t consider coming to work for me, now would you? You’ve got some talent.”

Yarrow gave a polite smile and bowed slightly. “That a no, then?” Mr. Demark said. “Ah, well. Just don’t go selling them or I’ll be out of business.” He laughed loudly and strolled back off into the festival. Yarrow stared after him for a moment, then started examining the fabric again.

You walked around the festival together for a while. The food there was delectable, and you ended up buying more pumpkin bread than you could comfortably eat. Yarrow declined to eat anything, but he did end up buying some spiced cider. You’d never seen him drunk, and you kept a curious eye on him. After about two and a half mugs, though, he showed no signs of inebriation. Maybe human alcohol just wasn’t potent enough for a Fae. It was a bit disappointing. You’d wondered what he was like drunk.

The sun had set fully at that point, which meant that several campfires had been set up around the town. People sat in loose circles around them, sharing stories. You and Yarrow sat in on a few of them; Yarrow seemed particularly interested in the stories featuring Fae.

“So,” you said as you stepped away from one of the circles close to the edge of town, “any of that true?”

Yarrow shook his head, then paused, considering. He held two fingers a short distance apart. “Only a little bit?” you said. Yarrow nodded. “What bits were true?”

Yarrow thought for a moment, then gave a dramatic hair toss and struck a pose like he was modeling. You dissolved into giggles. “Do you- Do you mean the bit where he said all Fae are really beautiful?” Yarrow nodded furiously, grinning.

“So not the bit where you kidnap babies?” Yarrow shook his head. “Or the bit where you all dance naked in the moonlight to lure humans in?” Even behind his mask, you could see Yarrow’s eyes roll.

You had moved toward the edge of town as you spoke, standing right on the outskirts of the forest. “We should probably get back,” you said. “It’s not-”

Your voice trailed off. There were lights emerging from the gloom of the woods. They looked like overlarge fireflies, except they glowed faintly blue instead of yellow. They left glimmering trails behind them when they moved. It was soothing to watch them, almost hypnotic. You took a step toward them.

Yarrow pulled on your hand, hard. You hadn’t even felt him grab it. You stumbled backward, blinking hard. The hypnotic feeling faded to the back of your head, though you could feel it threatening to rise again. Little lights. Little lights in the forest that compelled people to follow them and then led them astray. “Will-O-the-Wisps,” you said. Yarrow nodded. “I’ve never seen them before.”

Yarrow stepped forward, waving his hand toward the wisps. The coalesced, swarming densely for a moment. Then they vanished back into the forest as suddenly as they’d arrived. You let out a breath. Yarrow stared after them for a moment, then pulled your hand fiercely, pulling you back toward town until you were standing in the warm glow of a fire.

“Are those things common around here?” you asked, just barely keeping a wobble from your voice. “I’ve never seen them.”

Yarrow thought for a moment, then positioned himself so he was standing across from you. Carefully, he drew a line between you in the dirt. “A barrier between us?” you asked. Yarrow made a broad gesture. “Between our worlds?” Yarrow nodded. He gestured at the sky, then at the town around you and scuffed the line away with his foot. “The holiday… makes the barrier vanish?”

Yarrow nodded. A chill crept up your spine. “The veil gets thin. I’ve heard that before,” you said. “Is it dangerous?”

Yarrow shook his head. He clasped your hands in his and you felt a tingle of magic jump through you. His eyes gleamed with inhuman power for a moment. “It makes you stronger too,” you said. Yarrow nodded. He squeezed your hands again. “And you’ll protect me.” Another nod. “Thank you.”

Satisfied with the conversation, Yarrow turned away and began wandering back into town. The festivities were wrapping up in some areas and ramping up in others. Most of the families with children had departed, meaning that certain areas were turning toward debauchery. The stories told were less appropriate for young ears and a few people had stripped, despite the chill. Yarrow looked at them with some interest, but, thankfully, seemed uninterested in joining them.

Several of the fires had gone out and a fire toward the center had been stoked into an enormous blaze. People danced around it while musicians played close to its base. Laughs and whoops of excitement carried across the town.

Yarrow paused and stared across the way at a smaller fire. There were several couples gathered around it. One by one, they stepped forward and held out their clasped hands to a man. He wrapped their hands in a ribbon and murmured words over them, sprinkling a few drops of water from a nearby basin. The couple held their hand over the fire for a moment, just high enough to not get burned, then stepped back with murmurs and bows of thanks.

“That’s a couple ceremony,” you explained. “It’s usually for new couples, for over the winter. There’s an old legend behind it.” Yarrow looked at you curiously. “You want to hear it?” A nod. “Uh, okay.” You sat down on a log next to a fire that was only faintly glowing embers. Yarrow sat with you. He was close enough that your knees were touching.

“Um, I heard this story a long time ago, so it’s not going to be super detailed, but I remember most of it,” you said. “The story goes that there was a couple who lived in a cabin a bit of a ways out of town. They lived far enough away that when the winter snows came, they were unable to get into town.” Your voice dropped into the sort of hushed tones used by storytellers. Yarrow’s eyes were fixed on you face, like he was enraptured. “The couple didn’t think anything of it. They had enough food to outlast the snow, and they had each other, and they thought that would be enough.

“But after a few weeks, with the snow still coming down, an evil spirit was carried in on the cold, northern wind. The spirit lurked in the corners of their home, out of the way of their glowing fires. And slowly, the spirit’s evil intentions crept into the couple.

“Gradually, the couple grew harsher and harsher with each other. They spent much of their time fighting or ignoring each other. And the longer they ignored each other, and the more they fought, the stronger the spirit grew. Soon, the couple was unable to think of anything but their seething hatred for the other. The woman took to sleeping on the floor, in the light of the fire.

“But the fire could not last forever, and the couple was so consumed with their arguing, they ignored the sputtering flames. And the, one night, while the woman slept in its glow, the fire sputtered, leaving her in darkness.

“And the spirit struck.

“Months later, when the snows finally melted, a few people from the town went out to see how the couple was doing. The found the man lying in his bed, his throat slit. Even though it was warm enough to melt the snow, the man was still frozen solid. His wife was never seen again.”

Yarrow had leaned in while you were telling the story. His face was quite close to yours. You leaned back and cleared your throat. “Um. So, that’s the story. The ceremony they’re doing is supposed to drive away evil spirits. It protects you.” Yarrow nodded slowly. His face was expressionless beneath the mask. “So, what do you think? Believe it’s true?”

Yarrow rolled his eyes under the mask and stood up. He offered you a hand, which you took and he tugged you to your feet. He waited a moment for your to straighten your robes, then began pulling you toward the ceremony.

“Woah, hey, hold on.” You tried to dig your feet into the ground, but Yarrow was supernaturally strong. “Are you- you want to participate in the ceremony?” you asked, a little bewildered. Yarrow nodded. “But it’s… for couples. You want to do it with me?”

Yarrow gave you a look and tugged on your hand again. “Okay, okay,” you said. He seemed oddly insistent on it. Maybe he knew something about evil spirits you didn’t? Regardless, it didn’t look like he was just going to give it up anytime soon. You relented and allowed him to pull you over to the ceremony.

Most of the couples had already been blessed, so there wasn’t a long wait before you were called up. The man was wearing a long red and purple robe and he was slightly stooped over with age. He smiled at you as you approached. “Haven’t seen you before,” he said conversationally. “New couple?”

You sputtered a little, but Yarrow just dipped his head and smiled. The man smiled back at you. “Wonderful. Now, I’ll need you to take the masks off for the ceremony.”

You carefully undid your mask and glanced at Yarrow as he did the same. The light of the fire against his skin made something in your chest catch. Your heart fluttered violently against your ribs. With a swallow, you turned back to the man.

“Now, clasp your hands and hold them out.” Yarrow linked your fingers and held your hand you. You felt overly aware of the touch of his fingers on yours.

The man reached out with a length of white ribbon. “This represents your love for each other. It binds you together and holds you fast.” He wrapped it around your hands, tying a loose knot near your thumbs. “The water represents the storms your relationship will weather.” He sprinkled it over your hands. The ribbon shivered a little, but remained wrapped securely around your hands. “The strength of your love will carry you through the tough times. Remember your love, and no spirit can stay your course.” He folded his hands around yours, pressing them together. “I bless you against all evil spirits, I bless you against the forces of hate in this world. This blessing will help to shield you, but only the strength of your care for each other will allow you to weather all the storms.” His hands unfolded from yours and he gave you a smile. Gently, he guided your hands over the fire, just high enough to avoid burning. “With this fire, I drive away the spirits of the cold and dark and hatred. May it burn bright enough to keep you warm throughout the long season.”

With a smooth pull, he freed your hands from the ribbon. It untied in a moment, pulled back into the curve of his fist. Yarrow held onto your hand for a moment longer before slowly untangling your fingers. He gave a small bow to the man and swept away. You murmured a quick thanks, then hurried after him.

He paused, letting you catch up. “You okay?” you asked. Yarrow nodded. He fiddled with the mask in his hands, like he was uncertain if he wanted to put it back on. Without really thinking about it, you linked your arm through his. “Want to go home?”

Yarrow turned his head slightly toward you and smiled. You started down the trail toward your home, arms still linked.

You walked in silence for a little while. “Did you have a good time?” you asked finally. Yarrow blinked at you, like you’d startled him out of thought, then he nodded. He pressed into you for a moment, bumping your sides together. It was warm and affectionate.

“Good. I had a good time too,” you said. You tilted your head back, looking at the mostly full moon. It played off of Yarrow’s hair and antlers, making them almost glow. You had a sudden urge to reach up and stroke his hair, smoothing down the few flyaways. You barely managed to restrain yourself.

You stopped just outside your house, scooping up a few more pieces of firewood to bring inside. Yarrow opened the door, ducking slightly to avoid his antlers scraping on the frame. You carried the wood over the fire and stoked it. The house was still cold, but the costume kept much of it away.

“So,” you said, trying to find something to say, “do you think the ceremony worked?” Yarrow’s face was practically obscured by the shadows, only half-illuminated by moonlight. He looked a little confused. “Uh, for keeping away evil spirits? The hand holding thing?” Yarrow snorted gave you a sarcastic smile. “You don’t think so?”

Yarrow sighed and rolled his eyes. He tapped his chest and pressed a hand to the center of your chest. It took you’re a moment to grasp the meaning. “We don’t need it because you protect me anyway?” you translated. Yarrow smiled and nodded. “Then why were you so insistent on doing the ceremony if it wasn’t going to-”

Yarrow rolled his eyes and pressed his hands to your face. You stumbled to a stop. His thumbs traced your cheekbones for a moment. A shiver crept along your spine. His bright, gleaming eyes were locked on yours. Slowly, one of his hands slipped down to cup your chin. His thumb traced along your lower lip. He was so close, so close you could feel his breath tickling against your face. Warmth was flooding your body and you could feel yourself shaking.

His lips pressed against yours. His lips were warm, and so soft, and they molded to yours. Your hands jumped up to the back of his head, tangling in his hair. His mouth opened against yours, your tongue tracing his lower lip for a moment.

After what was either a few moments, or a long, wonderful eternity, you broke apart. You swallowed hard. “You wanted to do it because you love me?”

A smile curved across Yarrow’s mouth. He nodded once.

“Oh.” You felt your heart flutter, your stomach tighten. “I love you too.”

Yarrow helped you stoke the fire and eased you out of your costume. He allowed you to help with his as well. You found yourself tracing your fingers along his smooth skin. He even allowed you to brush out his hair, sitting quiet and contemplative as you smoothed the brush over his head again and again.

Your bed was cold, as usual when you slipped inside. You shivered, tugging the blankets around you. “Ugh.”

There was the sound of movement from across the room. You looked over to see Yarrow standing in the doorway, thin nightclothes draped over his slender body. He swept across the room to your bed.

“Hey,” you said. “Need something?”

Yarrow lifted up the covers and, before you could really process what he was doing, he was snuggled next to you. He was warm, radiating heat like a furnace. You moved closer to him automatically. His legs tangled with yours and you felt his hands settle around you. He made a quiet noise of contentment in his chest.

Finally warm and overwhelmingly content, you buried your face into his chest and hugged him. One of his hands trailed slowly up and down your back, soothing you into sleep.

#exophilia #Fae #Fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend #fairy #Yarrow #halloween #OCxOC #mXf

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

we’re just like kevin bacon!

prompt: for @bricksatanakinswindow ‘s halloween writing challenge! this was initially inspired by "mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year" but once i started writing it kind of snowballed from there and i ended up with this lmao

ship: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k+ (i think this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written lol)

warnings n stuff: childhood enemies to lovers, swearing, mention of underage drinking, halloween shenanigans, makin' out, smut (not too explicit but i still think it's spicy enough to need an 18+ warning), jj and the reader being cute lil nerds and quoting movies back and forth, the author blatantly using some of her personal favorite movies/shows as inspiration for costumes, the author also making her opinions on ghostbusters clear (instead of the human trash can peter venkman, stan the adorable dork known as ray stantz for clear skin)

a/n: this was hella fun to write and i already have so many more halloween fic ideas bouncing around in my head (it's spoopy season, y'all!). title of this fic comes from guardians of the galaxy 😊

Of three things in life you were certain.

One, you loved Halloween more than any other holiday of the year; after all, you and your twin brother Mason were born just after one AM on October 31st so you could say a penchant for all things spooky was in your blood.

Two, Sarah Cameron was your best friend. Being neighbors your whole lives, the two of you were thick as thieves and spent almost every day together, much to the annoyance of both your brother and hers; as much as you loved Mason, sometimes you wished Sarah was your twin instead of him and you knew without question the blonde girl would trade Rafe for you in a heartbeat (with little to no guilt, in fact.).

And three, you absolutely hated JJ Maybank. You'd been at the top of each other's shit lists ever since you were both six years old, when he made fun of you for the stutter you'd had back then and you dumped a full milkshake over his head as payback, and even as time passed and you grew out of your stutter, your disdain for the blond pogue only grew stronger. He was infuriating, plain and simple, and the mere mention of his name made steam come out of your ears.

The boy was just good at being annoying and seemed to love pushing everyone's buttons, yours especially, and always found ways to get under your skin without fail every single time your paths crossed (which was way too often for your liking, but running in the same friend group made it hard to avoid each other). It became an unspoken thing, the great Y/L/N-Maybank feud, with both of you trying your hardest to piss the other off until one of your mutual friends or your brother broke it up and pulled you to opposite corners of the metaphorical ring to take a breather before the next round.

You'd never admit it but deep down you kind of liked it. You liked being at the center of his attention (granted, it was antagonistic in nature but it was attention all the same), his bright blue eyes following your every move whenever you were within his sights and you liked that you were in his thoughts even when you weren't around, a fact proven to you by the tiny notebook Kiara carried around in her pocket recording how many times he mentioned your name. Knowing you lived rent free in his mind brought you an embarrassingly high level of satisfaction that you'd absolutely deny feeling if anyone ever asked, just as you'd deny the fact that he lived rent free in your mind, too.

...At least for most of the year. Everyone, including JJ, knew that to you Halloween was a damn-near sacred time. He knew never to mess with you during the weeks leading up to the holiday and definitely never on the day itself, lest he want yet another milkshake dumped over his blond head. He knew that, the whole damn island knew he did and yet...somehow, some way, he managed to get your blood boiling every. single. year. And you, like a masochistic idiot, let him.

It all started when you were twelve.

You, Mason, and your friends were finally old enough to go to the annual youth party held on the sprawling lawn of the Island Club, an event you'd been looking forward to attending every Halloween since you were eight. Of course, you were excited for the dancing and games and food but the thing you couldn't wait the most for was the costume contest, a chance to show off your skills and prove to everyone on the island that Y/N Y/L/N was the undisputed queen of Halloween.

So what if your hopes were a little too high (considering you were only twelve and going up against kids ranging from your age to fifteen), you were still gonna give it your all; you spent weeks perfecting not only your costume but your brother's as well with your mom, helping her cut fabric and sew zippers, styling wigs and painting props until everything was perfect.

"Oh my God, Y/N!" Sarah, dressed as Cinderella, yelled from the passenger seat of her dad's SUV when they swung by to pick you up. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You said, slipping into the back seat in between a miserable-looking Rafe as Sarah Sanderson ("I lost a bet," he explained with a scowl) and Mason, holding your mini R2-D2 on your lap. Was it kind of cheesy, dressing up as the most iconic twins in movie history? Probably, but you really didn't care because Leia Organa was a total boss bitch and Mason was practically over the moon that he got to be his ultimate silver screen hero and swing around his very own lightsaber as Luke Skywalker.

"The Force is strong with you two." Ward joked, earning an eye roll from both of his children as he drove to the Island Club to drop you off. Rafe immediately disappeared into the crowd to meet up with Topper and Kelce and the three of you went off to find your own friends, skirting around the edge of the party toward the snack tables, also known as the most likely place for them to be.

You spotted Kiara first, looking like an actual princess in her Tiana costume and waved, smiling when she waved back and beckoned you over as she said something to Pope, dressed as Albert Einstein, that made him start laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" You asked, reaching between them to grab two handfuls of pretzels and immediately dropping one into your brother's outstretched palm, careful to keep the sleeve of your white dress away from the bright orange-iced cupcakes on the table.

The two of them exchanged a look that instantly made you realize something was Up™ but before either of them could answer, Mason asked around a mouthful of pretzels, "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"

"J, why didn't we think of that?" John B's voice came from somewhere over your shoulder and when you turned to face him, you nearly dropped both the droid cradled in the crook of your elbow and the snacks in your hand. Not because of John B and his hilarious Chewbacca costume but because of the fact that JJ Maybank, the one person you hated the most on the whole entire island, was dressed as Han freakin' Solo.

"Yikes." Someone muttered behind you -it sounded like Sarah but you weren't really sure- and Mason nearly choked on his pretzels as he tried and failed miserably to keep himself from laughing.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You huffed, rolling your eyes as JJ crossed his arms and glared in your direction, blaster hanging from the holster on his hip.

"Listen, Princess, I'm not too happy about this, either."

"Oh, shut up, you nerfherder."

"Who you calling-" Mason and John B cut in and pulled you both in opposite directions before either of you could turn it into a shouting match, your brother physically grabbing you around the waist and carrying you off while the latter caught the back of JJ's vest and dragged him away. Despite their best efforts to keep you apart, you ran into each other more times than you could count and spent a minute or two squabbling like cats and dogs each time until one of them intervened once again. It was childish, it was immature, and it was fun, even though you'd never, ever admit it. Ever.

You didn't win the costume contest that year in the way you'd imagined at all. Still, first place in the group category was a win in your book and it felt good, even if one of the members of your unintentional Star Wars posse was someone who tested every bit of patience you had. The four of you split the cash prize and you went home 25 bucks richer, stashing it away for next year's costume and pushing the thought of accidentally matching with your mortal enemy from your mind.

You had no idea this thing was only just beginning.

The next year, you let Sarah and Kiara convince you to match with them and the three of you rolled up to the party as the Pink Ladies -you as Rizzo, Sarah as Sandy, Kiara as Frenchy- only to run right into the boys, your brother included, dressed as the T-Birds. John B, perfectly in character as Danny, immediately whisked Sarah off to dance while Pope, the most adorably awkward Doody you'd ever seen, went to grab some snacks with Kiara, leaving you stuck with the bane of your existence as, of course, fucking Kenickie (Mason, as Sonny, dipped sometime before then without you noticing). The two of you spent the whole evening glaring at each other and hurling insults back and forth at breakneck speed, more in character than either of you'd ever want to acknowledge and for the second year in a row, you won first place in the group costume category.

At fourteen, you went as Princess Buttercup and JJ showed up as Westley, fake sword in hand as he followed you around all night like an annoying fly, sarcastically drawling "as you wish" every time you so much as glanced in his direction. Your brother, dressed as Inigo Montoya, nearly pissed himself laughing and you wanted to snatch both of their prop swords and shove them up their asses. You came in first again in the group costume contest and begrudgingly split the prize three ways.

At fifteen, you worked hard on a Dr. Ellie Sattler costume from Jurassic Park, he strolled in as a disheveled Dr. Alan Grant with mud splattered boots and tattered clothes, and you really regretted not taking the offer to be the Tai to Sarah's Cher and Kiara's Dionne. Once again, Mason laughed so hard his face turned red and you were tempted to grab the sword he was holding and beat him over the head with it, not just for laughing at you but also for the completely atrocious Jack Sparrow costume he wore. To your absolute horror, you and JJ won the contest in the duo category and you wanted to melt into the ground when they called you onto the makeshift stage to collect your reward.

When you were sixteen, you and your friends "graduated" to the party held for the older teens inside the club itself. With costume rules a little more lax than they were for the younger kids, you decided to go as (an only slightly sexy) Janine Melnitz, complete with a prop telephone you answered every so often with a loud "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!" much to the embarrassment of Mason, who was once again dressed as Luke Skywalker, this time in the fatigues he wore while training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back.

You strutted into the party in your heels and pencil skirt only to nearly fall flat on your face when you caught sight of JJ in a terrible black wig and glasses, proton pack strapped to his back and 'Spengler' printed on the front of his jumpsuit. Your brother winced when you all but screeched "Again?!" right into his ear and grabbed your elbow, dragging you over to an empty table and depositing you into an open chair.

"There's no way this is a coincidence anymore! He could've picked Venkman, with all the womanizing and lowkey being a creep and thinking he's God's gift to mankind? It would've been the perfect choice! He's not nearly adorable or dorky enough to be Stantz or sassy enough to be Winston-"

"Jesus, you have a lot of feelings about Ghostbusters," Mason muttered, rolling his eyes when you shot him a withering glare.

"Shut up! Listen to me, there's no way in hell Maybank randomly decided to be, out of alllll the 'Busters, Egon fuckin' Spengler, okay? He had to have somehow known I was coming as Janine and did it just to piss me off!"

Your brother heaved a deep, heavy sigh that made you want to smack him and fixed you with a deadpan stare. "Or, have you pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to think that maybe you're just becoming...predictable?"

You really did smack him then, hard on his exposed shoulder and he yelped, scowling as he rubbed at the red mark you left behind. "Ow! What the hell, bitch?!"

"Don't you dare call me predictable, you dickhead! I pride myself on my costumes being very unique and unexpected -you know, out of the box!"

"Hate to break it to you but they're not really out of the box if Maybank shows up in a matching one every single year." He said with an infuriating, shit-eating grin, patting your shoulder before straightening the plush Yoda strapped to his back. "I'm gonna go get some food, wanna come with?"

Still miffed at his comment, you shoved his arm away and glanced down at your lap, ignoring your brother's sassy "your loss" as he headed toward the snack tables. Not even a minute passed by before his empty seat was taken and you groaned when you looked up to see who it was, your eyes meeting a pair of bright blues behind tacky, oversized glasses.

"Hi, Janine."

"...Egon."

The two of you sat in silence after that, watching the dancing crowd under the flashing neon lights and sparkling disco ball until you saw him turn to face you out of the corner of your eye.

"Why Janine?"

"Huh?" You turned to face him, too, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he gestured toward your costume.

"Why did you dress up as Janine, Y/L/N?"

"I've always liked her sassiness and 'I like to play racquetball.'" You offered a casual shrug of your shoulders and carefully stuck a finger under your wig to scratch an annoying itch above your ear. "Why'd you pick Egon, Maybank?"

"He's my favorite." He answered simply with his own shrug, shooting you a genuine, real smile that you, for who knows what reason, found yourself returning without a second thought. "Smart, hilarious -plus, 'I like to collect spores, mold, and fungus.'"

For the first time in your life, your eyes rolled out of amusement and not annoyance at something that JJ Maybank said and, to your complete surprise, it kind of felt...right. "Really? I'd have pegged you for a Venkman stan."

"Are you kidding? He's the worst!"

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd sit across from your hated enemy, not only having a civil -hell, downright enjoyable- conversation but actually smiling right along with him, laughing at his jokes and doing your best to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach each time you caught sight of his slightly crooked teeth when he grinned. You didn't even notice when your brother returned with Kiara, dressed as Moana, at his side and two heaping plates of snacks in his hands until his chair scraped gratingly across the hardwood floor.

"Kie, are you seeing this? Pigs must be flying 'cause they're actually smiling at each other." Mason said, cackling as Kiara turned to squint out the window.

"Yeah, I think I see one or two soaring around out there." She giggled and sent a mischievous wink in your direction. With your face feeling like it was on fire, you flipped them both the bird and took off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving all your traitorous, confusing thoughts about JJ behind with the boy himself; it was Rafe's last party at the Club and he owed you a dance anyway, but even as your best friend's older brother, cute as hell in his Thor costume, playfully twirled you around the floor to the Ghostbusters theme song, you felt more than your partner's blue eyes on you.

To no one's surprise, you and JJ won the duo category for the second year in a row and when you joined him onstage to collect your prize and didn't feel like you'd rather die than be up there by his side, you suddenly realized you were only certain about two things in life instead of three.

At seventeen, you were confident you and JJ wouldn't be matching for once (after last year, though, you were kind of thinking it wouldn't be that bad of a thing). You'd gone cult classic for your costume, pulling inspiration from your mom's favorite move, 1999's The Mummy, and put together a screen-accurate Evelyn Carnahan in her iconic black dress, including a handmade Book of the Dead and matching key. You blackmailed Mason with pictures of him, drunk as a skunk and dressed in your Janine costume from the previous year, and got him to go as Jonathan, complete with a pith helmet and prop bottle of The Glenlivet.

But, as always, JJ managed to surprise you. You literally ran right into his chest and if it wasn't for his arms instantly wrapping tight around your waist, you would've bit it hard.

"Whoa, careful there," He said, one hand keeping you close while the other moved to help you hold the book in your arms. "'The Book of the Dead? Are you sure you wanna be messing around with this thing?'"

Of course he'd make the perfect Rick O'Connell, you thought as you playfully raised one eyebrow and curled your fingers around the strap of the gun holster draped over his shoulder. "'It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.'"

Mason was a little too in character as well as he dramatically rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering "puh-lease" under his breath and shooting Sarah a conspiratorial wink that you didn't see. The blonde girl glanced between the two of you -arms still around each other and identical smiles on your faces- and grinned. The party flew by in a blur of movie quotes, laughs, and more dances than you could count and by the time you made it home, 50 bucks in the pocket of your dress and another group costume win under your belt, you were almost positive you never actually hated JJ Maybank in the first place.

Now at eighteen, you pulled out all the stops for your last party at the Island Club. You'd spent the last few months slaving over your costume, sewing custom pieces, hand-crafting your prop, and spending way too much money on body makeup and a wig but when you saw the final product in the mirror, you knew it was all worth it. You were ready to slay the competition this year and take home first place for the final time.

Mason, indifferent as always about the contest but willing to do anything to keep those pictures from seeing the light of day, didn't protest one bit when you forced him into the matching costume you'd made for him -in typical Mason fashion, he liked that he didn't have to wear a shirt and could show off his muscles- and spent a few hours perfecting his makeup.

You felt on top of the world when you walked into the party that night as Gamora, a replica of her Godslayer sword in hand and skin painted a perfect shade of green, followed by your brother as Drax, already flexing for anyone and everyone looking his way. The rest of your friends came to win as well: John B and Sarah as Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, Kiara as Eleven, Pope as T'Challa, and, of course, JJ as Peter Quill, Baby Groot perched on his shoulder and twin blasters at his hips.

"Lookin' good, Gamora!" He called over the music, shimmying his way over to you with some dance moves that would impress Star-Lord himself.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Quill." You replied in a sing-song voice, even as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into the crowd of bodies hopping up and down to some terrible EDM beat under the twirling disco ball.

"It got you out here with me, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and hooked the sword to your belt before stepping closer and draping your arms around his neck, twirling your painted fingers in his hair. "Just remember, 'I know who you are, Peter Quill. And I'm not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery.'"

You should've known you spoke too soon the second you saw the spark in JJ's eyes that all but screamed 'wanna bet?'

And that's how you found yourself in the middle of the single hottest make out session you'd ever had the pleasure of participating in an hour later: back pressed against the locked door of someone's deserted office, legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hands hooked under your ass, both your sword and his blasters abandoned on the floor at his feet, and he was either a sinfully good kisser or trying really, really hard to blow your mind.

"I'm not gonna end up green after this, am I?" He mumbled against your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw and you breathed a laugh, tightening your grip on his hair.

"This is professional makeup, dumbass. It's gonna take more than some kissing to smudge it."

"I'm down for some smudging if you are."

You pulled him back for another kiss in response and gasped into his mouth when he walked across the room, one strong arm reaching out to sweep whatever was on the desk to the floor before setting you down on it.

"Confident, are we?"

JJ smirked at your breathless question and the way you hooked your ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. "So is that a yes to the smudging?"

"Just shut up and kiss me."

He did -very well, you might add- and you kissed him back, untangling your hands from his hair to slide them under his jacket instead; you helped him push it off his shoulders and it had barely hit the ground along with poor Baby Groot before your fingers were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants.

"Someone's impatient." He teased, leaning back just far enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you.

"Someone doesn't know how to stop talking." You whispered your reply low in his ear and then trailed your lips down his neck, smiling in satisfaction at the tremble in his voice when you kissed the purple mark you'd left behind earlier.

"N-never was very good at that."

"'You should've learned.'"

"'I don't learn, it's one of my issues.'"

One of his hands gripped your wig, pulling your head back a little roughly -you'd have so been into that if it had been your real hair he pulled- and you winced at the way the bobby pins holding it it place tugged painfully at your roots. "Ow, not so hard!"

"Wait, what the fuck? I thought you were wearing a wig!"

"I am but it's still pinned to my actual hair!"

"Sorry, but how the hell was I supposed to know that?"

The sight of JJ's face slowly turning red made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and so you just shook your head, mumbling "don't worry about it," before pressing your lips to his once again. He was gentler this time with the pulling and you dug your nails into his bare shoulders at the thrill of his mouth against the exposed column of your throat, leaning back further and further until you laid flat on the desk.

His fingers had just unbuttoned your pants when your phone started to ring from your pocket, blaring the Star Wars theme you had set as your twin's ringtone.

"Mason's timing is impeccable," JJ said sarcastically, chuckling as you clamped a palm over his mouth and answered the call.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Jesus, no need to be pissy!" Mason loudly replied over the applause crackling through the phone's speaker. "I just thought you'd like to know that we just won best group costume with Maybank. Again."

The blond winked at the mention of his last name and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pinning it to the desk beside you with one of his while the other started tugging your pants down over your hips.

"Oh, that's cool, Mase-" You inhaled sharply when his lips touched the edge of your underwear, so close to where you wanted him most but at the same time so far away, and your fingers held your phone in a white-knuckled grip. "But I-I'm kind of in the middle of doing someone -something!- right now."

"Smooth," JJ said, not even trying to be quiet as he released your pinned hand to finish pulling your boots off, along with your tight leather pants that he casually tossed aside. "And I knew you weren't green under these!"

Your laugh quickly turned into a gasp when his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled those off, too, and the touch of his tongue against the skin of your inner thigh sent white-hot lightning racing through your veins; the phone slipped from your grip, falling with a clunk onto the desk as your fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! I already know you're getting laid but I don't need to hear it." Mason's loud grumble drifted up through the speaker and if you weren't so preoccupied with the boy between your thighs doing some downright wicked things to you with his mouth, you might've noticed that your brother didn't actually sound that grumpy before he ended the call and your phone's screen went dark, right as you lost control of your voice.

"Fuck me."

"Funny, I thought that's what I was doing?" You felt more than heard his response against you and a shiver ran down your spine when his bright blue eyes flicked up to met yours in the dim light of the office.

"You know what I meant, Maybank."

"Trust me, Y/L/N, I know. Question is: where do you want me?"

You tugged on his hair, grinning wolfishly at the way his eyes fluttered closed and a low moan rose from his throat. "Everywhere in this damn room, starting right here."

"I was hoping you’d say that.”

- Back at the party, Mason looked up and met Sarah's gaze, both of her eyebrows raised expectantly as she asked, "Well?"

He took his time slipping his phone back into his pocket before giving her a quick nod, grinning triumphantly when she immediately burst into gleeful giggles.

"Yes! I just knew they had a thing for each other! Mortal enemies, my ass."

"I think that was the very first time in my sister's life that she didn't give a shit about the contest." Mason said and reached over to snag a cookie from her plate, chuckling when she pushed his hand away from the chocolate chip ones and toward the peanut butter. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you. I mean, making sure they showed up in matching costumes every year? Genius, Sarah. Absolutely genius."

The blonde girl grabbed her own cookie with a wink. "Think they'll ever figure it out?"

Your brother just threw his head back and laughed. "I hope not! I wanna save that story for my best man speech at their wedding."

taglist: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @sexualparkour @agirlwholovescoffee

#brickswritingchallenge #outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #obx fanfic

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bixqueen · 3 years

Text

supercorptober (supercorp october writing prompt)

i stumbled upon this prompt on AO3 a year after this happened lol but i’m wondering if we’re doing it again this year. and if someone makes a 31-day prompt list or we come up with it all ourselves? anyways, i’m interested in participating this year (hopefully although college decision process is a lot) and seeing how supergirl goes starting in august maybe it’ll help us with the pain lol

31 days

no.1:

- lena doesn’t understand how her friend can be eating an ice cream cone in the middle of fall while she’s freezing, yet she finds it cute and kara just doesn’t know why she’s blushing

no.2:

- sam and alex force lena and kara on a blind date

- they’re best friends

- they both think they’ve been stood up and sam and alex are screaming inside watching this happen

no.3:

- its karas first time at a high school party and she spots a special someone she is very into

- 5 mins in heaven or spin the bottle

no.4:

- kara and lena are both single and attend homecoming only to fall into each other’s arms (literally or metaphorically)

- can be at the game or the dance

no.5:

- baking and making a mess only for alex to walk in on them making out then begins cussing as she leaves

no.6:

- halloween themed game night with all their friends trying to get them to realize they love each other

no.7:

- first sleepover at Danver’s house

- kara and lena are freshman besties and decide to have a movie night and sleepover (ofc they make out DUH)

no.8:

- engagement (proposal) party with the superfriends being exposed for betting on the relationship

no.9:

- protective kara while lena works with DEO on serious (dangerous ofc) case

- nobody gets why supergirl is so worried

no.10:

- the way the ending of the 100th episode could’ve gone (GO WILD lol)

no.11:

- ice skating and hot cocoa days !!

- kara and lena go ice skating and casually fall on top of each other any chance they get then go back to karas for some cocoa and do some more falling on top of each other…

no.12:

- a flight with supergirl while lena is all bundled up and cozy on a fall night

no.13:

- visiting krypton and learning about their fall customs (/halloween idk if they do that most likely not)

- kara introducing lena to her parents

no.14:

- teaming up for a not so serious mission only to be scolded by j’on and alex ofc (be silly with this)

no.15:

- what really happens before a soccer game and your girlfriend shows up early to show support…hmm

- or lena pulls kara aside during their group warmups and have fun before the game

no.16:

- an accidental slip-up in front of lenas coworkers happen of her and supergirl kissing (though they don’t know it’s the same person)

no.17:

- moving in together after dating for a while but they don’t get to do much unpacking once one of them finds a movie (halloween one) only to find out the other hasn’t seen it

no.18:

- who you gonna call? SUPERGIRL!

- or lena doesn’t really need any rescuing, she just likes being held in karas strong and secure arms

no.19:

- supercorps child first halloween

no.20:

- elementary school kara doesn’t know anything about love until she spots an adorable black-haired girl and can’t stop thinking about her

no.21:

- they’re at a bar and kara accidentally spills a drink all over lenas clothes (expensive) and instead of being pissed she knows a way kara can make it up to her

no.22:

- kara and lena happen to be put together for some science project and that hatred that was once there slowly dissolves into something else

no.23:

- “what do you mean you don’t go trick or treating?”

- “well kara, we are in high school now. don’t you think it’s a bit odd to dress up and beg others for candy? i can buy you some at the store.”

- “yeah but that’s not as fun,” the blonde girl whines in an attempt to make the shorter girl put on her (_) costume and tag along.

- or lena doesn’t want to go trick or treating with kara, alex, and sam but gets guilted into it

no.24:

- lena and kara agree to babysit ruby one night and against their better knowledge they let her watch a movie that’s probably too scary for her (as well as them)

- supercorp cuddles

no.25:

- kara reveals she has a special surprise for her best friend lena

- she gives her a clue everyday going into halloween and her friend must figure it out in order for it to be revealed (this can be like some fluff love confession thing that takes lena until the very last day to figure out bc she’s a useless lesbian)

no.26:

- school trip to a museum (science or art) and the two best friends (who are hopelessly in love with each other) find any moment to slip their hands together and run off for a few moments

no.27:

- lena travels to ireland in hopes of discovering what really happened to her mother while kara stays in national city but keeps tails on lenas heartbeat and whereabouts. she ends up flying there once a day to be there physically and they both end up going to THE river/lake (they’re either together or just friends in this)

no.28:

- lena walks into her office only to find her best friend struggling to catch a puppy she brought (named pumpkin hehe) as a halloween surprise gift

no.29:

- lena knocks on the door of her best friends house begging to build a snowman in the middle of the night since she can’t sleep and seems to (for some reason) find comfort in those ocean blue eyes

no.30:

- alex gets tired of hearing kara complain about how much she likes lena but doesn’t know what to do so she decides to ask lena out from karas phone

- lena agrees and kara still doesn’t know what’s going on until after the “date” and she sees her messages. let’s say she’s not that mad at alex

no.31:

- lena has been missing for 3 days now and even the super can’t seem to find her. until she picks up on certain hints around the city and finds that she’s been captured by lex (i’m bad at horrors lol this is me trying)

I began this idea process back in like mid-june but i thought this might be really fun! we don’t know how this season will end but i thought we can at least have some happiness during it lol. anyways, it’s officially autumn so i finally got to post and it’s in a month advance which is nice! so repost and comment if you want to take part. i think it’ll be in A03 again but im super excited for this!

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #alex danvers #kara and lena #supergirl season six #alex and kara #superfriends #supergirl fanfiction #supercorptober

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thewritingginger · 3 years

Note

Naughty list 7 for Beelzebub and naughty list 13 for Belphegor with f!reader please and thank you!

Thank you Lovely for your request and your patience for me to get this done. I do have the Beel one on my WIP list as well :3

This one was a bit interesting for me cuz it’s not smut but also not fluff it just... idk what to call it 😂 But not in a bad way I did have fun writing it. just something new for me and I'm a bit unsure but that could be bc it’s 7 am and I’m a bit sick lol

Prompt: Naughty #13: “I need you to pretend to be my s/o.” “Why? You hate me!” Fandom: Obey Me! Pairing: Belphegor x F! Reader Word Count: 2,438 words Warning(s): may cause slight annoyance :)

Enjoy~

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spot Belphegor pass the end of the hall, saying goodbye to your friends you rush over. Stopping by him, slightly out of breath as he stands straight from the water fountain.

“Hey Belphie.” You say sweetly with a small smile. Belphegor looks you up and down with a raised brow. “Uh, hi.” He responds slowly, readjusting his backpack strap as he turns to leave.

“So how’s your day been?” You ask, walking at his pace.

“What do you want Y/n?” He asks curt. Stopping he leans against the wall, arms crossed. Looking at you through his brows, unamused.

“What do you mean? I’m just trying to make conversation with you.” You say innocently.

Rolling his eyes he kicks off the wall and continues down the hall. Not getting ten steps in front of you, you stop him again. “Wait-” You huff. He turns your way. He waits, shaking his head, tuning his hands up signaling you to spit it out already. You sigh,

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” You say, wincing at the idiocy of your request. If you can even call it that. You’re practically begging him to, ‘Gosh really Y/n, “need” him to?’ You mentally slap yourself, not noticing the grin on his face. Snapping back when you hear him snort a bit. Trying to remain calm cause lord knows you need him to agree. For a moment there is just silence. Seeing him process your question a bit more. Then he speaks,

“Why? You hate me.” His statement punctuated with an amused half cut smirk. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, contemplating your rebuttal. Because the truth is, you don’t hate the guy. Sure, he’s probably the most annoying being to ever exist in all the three worlds, but that doesn’t mean you hate him. Clearing your throat you respond,

“No I don’t hate you. We just don’t know each other enough.” You smile.

“Uh huh. So me pretending to be your boyfriend will do just that, huh?” He says. His face cracks with amusement once again as he watches your face twist in annoyance.

“Look, why don’t you just ask one of my brothers? They like you.” He says as he backs away symbolizing he’s done with this conversation.

You sigh annoyed. ‘Yeah like I haven’t thought of that before, Dickhead.’ You had thought about it before but that didn’t go down well.

You didn’t dare ask Lucifer well because, he’s Lucifer.

Mammon would only accept if you paid him to and even though you were in need of a prop-up boyfriend you weren’t that desperate.

Both Levi and Satan were busy the day you would need them.

And lastly there was Beel. You would’ve asked him but… on Halloween Beel was plastered and drunkenly confessed that he really liked you. After that night he hadn’t seemed awkward about doing it and you never told him he did it either.

So that left you with the youngest one that just walked away from you.

~~~

Why do you need a pretend boyfriend, you ask? Well in a phone call with your family talking about arrangements for New Years. Your mother wouldn’t shut up about the amazing guy your cousin is dating and how he’s coming to the New Years Eve party, and whilst your mom was babbling on about it you zoned out and when she asked if you had a ‘special someone’ you absentmindedly said ‘yeah’. And before you knew it she told you to bring him around and said her goodbyes as you tried to correct the situation. But it was too late.

And now you need a boyfriend.

~~~

Back at the house of Lamentation heading towards your bedroom you spot Belphegor going into his room. Taking another chance you dropped your book bag at your door and rushed over to him.

“Belphe-” Cut off by the door in your face, you roll your head back in frustration but not defeat. You had to do this! You hate to say it but he really is your last hope for this.

Knock Knock Knock.

No response. You sigh once again trying to keep your cool.

Knock Knock Knock

Your hits get a bit heavier with each one. Then finally he opens the door.

“What?” He says with a huff.

“I need to talk to you. I -” You begin to say as he rolls his eyes starting to close the door once again. Stopping the door with your palm you finally put your pride aside.

“Belphegor, please ~” Your words come out slow. Hating to beg the demon but knowing you had to at this point. The pressure on the door lightens. Belphegor stands behind the door and sighs.

“Fine.” He says. Opening the door for you to enter. Sitting down on his bed, he looks up at you waiting for you to speak. “Like I said before I kinda need you to be my ‘boyfriend’ for a night.” You say. His blank stare boring into you, “Yes you did but you failed to mention why. What, do you secretly have a crush on me.” He says with an amused grin. Your reaction only made it better,

“Tsk you wish. The reason I need you is because I’m going home for New Years and my mom thinks I’m bringing home a boyfriend.” You say with your arms crossed.

“Why would she think that?” He asks. Pursing your lips, hating your answer you sigh. “I may have accidentally told her I did when I wasn’t paying attention.” You say, refusing to look at what you’re sure is a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Ha ha oh my god. You’re more stupid than I thought.” He says laughing. Your face heats up with anger, before you can say anything he cuts you off. “You know what, I’ll do it.” He says standing up. Your anger subsides a bit when you hear those words. Slight relief sweeps through you. “Really?” You ask, happy but slightly shocked. “Yup.” He says walking past you, opening the door.

“I’ve been told it’s good to do charity. And besides this seems too funny to miss out on.” He says, walking out leaving you angry once again. ‘Guh, what an asshole!’ you think to yourself storming out of his room.

~~~

It’s New Years Eve and you are getting ready to leave devildom with Belphegor to the human world. Picking up your jacket and purse you leave your room. “Ok, let’s go.” you say to no one walking down the stairs, Belphegor waiting by the door dressed in jeans, a dark teal blazer, and a black shirt. He turns to speak but hesitates a second when he takes in your appearance. Rushing down the stairs the hem of your black velvet dress rode up your thighs a bit, your hair messily framing your face and your cheeks rosy from rushing around to get ready. “Phew, okay, I’m ready!” You say sliding your heels on at the base of the stairs. Standing straight smoothing the front of your dress you look up to see Belphegor looking at you. “What are you looking at? Are you ready?” You ask, putting on your coat. “Yeah I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.” He says opening the door.

Pulling into the driveway of your parents home you turn off the car and turn to Belphegor. “Ok like I said before, they might ask questions, especially my mother! And please, please try not to make an absolute fool in there.” You say. Belphegor laughs at your pleas. “Don’t worry I won't make a fool out of you on purpose, you do that well enough on your own.” He says with a chuckle. Man, he really knows how to get under your skin.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go in there and act like any other boyfriend.” He says with a patronizing smile. Pursing your lips trying to hold yourself back from slapping him, instead you just get out of the car. You knock on the door as you wait, Belphegor comes up behind you and you see him holding a bouquet of sunflowers. “What are you~” You’re cut off by your mother. “Well hello. Please, come on in, you'll freeze out there.” She says opening your family home to the both of you. Before you can introduce Belphegor, he’s already ahead of you.

“Thank you. These are for you.” He says handing your mother the flowers. “Oh my, they’re beautiful… oh I never even got your name.” Your mother says with a smile. Chuckling back he responds. “I’m Belphegor. And I’m glad you like them, you know sunflowers represent happiness and longevity which is not only what I hope for you this coming year but also for my time with your daughter here.” He says, pulling you in by your side, looking down at you with a smile. Your mother seemingly swooning. You smile back, “What the hell are you doing?” You ask through your teeth. “Fulfilling my end of the agreement, and taking what I want cause I don’t recall you ever telling me what I’d get in return.” He says. You fake a laugh, “What do you mean ‘get in return’?” You ask. Turning you to face him, lifting your chin. “You don’t think I came here out of the goodness of my heart do ya? I came here to have a bit of fun and I’m already just getting started.” He says. Giving you a sly look he kisses your hand sweetly before rushing over to your mother, “Please let me help you with those.” He says walking with your mother before looking back at you.

‘Oh he’s good. But two can play at that game, Buddy!’

As the night goes on you two continue to seem a convincing couple. Good to know his lying can actually be of some help in this situation. “So Y/n how did you manage to land such a charming guy?” Your cousin asks.

You hate it! How can they love him so much?

“Um well~” You start, when you feel Belphegor wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Well we actually met through my brothers.” He says. “Oh how many brothers do you have?” Your mother asks. “I’m actually the youngest of seven. And my twin brother introduced me to this girl and ever since that day I’ve wanted her by my side.” He says, with his left arm around your shoulders, his right hand makes its way on your bare knee. Laughing you look at him with warning eyes as you take his hand off you. Your family chuckles at your “puppy love” moment.

“So how long have you been together to be exact, because somehow up until a couple weeks ago Y/n had failed to mention you.” Your mother says looking at you. ‘Oh brother.’ You think to yourself. “About a year.” You say. “And here I thought it was longer. I guess that's just wishful thinking, huh.” Belphie says, looking at you with a smirk.

‘I’m gonna kill him.’

“You know if we let the love over there get too strong, we might be seeing a new addition to the family sooner than we’d think.” One of your family friends says, chuckling into his glass. The whole table starts to chuckle as your eyes widen. “O-oh no, not now.” You stutter. “Looks like my baby is blushing. She is always more amusing this way.” Belphegor says. “Haha ok enough of that. What time is it anyways?” You ask trying to get this night over with.

“It’s almost 11:40.” Says your mother. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re counting down the minutes till you can kiss me.” Belphie says, leaning into you. “Yeah, no. I couldn’t think of a worse way to start my year.” You say into your glass.

“Ok guys the ball is dropping! Count down in 10… Standing before Belphegor he just smirks. “Make sure you don’t fall in love with me after this.” He says. You almost gag, “Yeah, no problem.” you say.

Everyone chanted the countdown,

“3”

“2”

“1”

“Happy New Year!” Everyone exclaims.

Looking at each other Belphegor puts his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. Your lips touch. A second passes, still connected. The hand in your hair tightens slightly and his lips move with yours. Your mouths dance together one second and parted the next. The expectant feeling of disgust never came, rather the moment wasn’t that bad. You stand there in his grasp for a few more seconds, eyes locked. Looking up at him you notice something in his eyes you've never seen before, but it’s gone just as soon as it comes. “I think we should go before you try and kiss me again.” He says. “If you keep talking you’re sooner to get slapped, than kissed.” You say walking past him, making him laugh.

It’s nearing 1am when you and Belphegor are taking your leave, “You know you two can stay till the morning since it’s late.” Your mom offers. “No we have things to do tomorrow and I’d rather not travel in the morning.” You say hugging your mom. “Well, drive safely and Belphegor you’re always welcome in our home.” Your mom says making him smile. Taking her hand in his he places a small kiss on the back of hers, “Your hospitality is too much.” He says. You see your mom swoon once again. ‘Damn he is good.’

Finally in the car you sigh in relief. “Glad that’s over.” You say. “Yeah. When are we coming back? Maybe we can bring Beel, he’d love that- well, everything your mom made.” He says turning the car on. “Uh, what do you mean ‘coming back’? This was a one night deal.” You say laughing. “Well your mom said she’d love to see me again and I’d say I had a pretty good time playing with you tonight. So i feel it would really be a win-win situation.” He says. “How is that a win for me though.” You ask with your arms crossed.

“Well it’s a win for you cause you’ll get to kiss me again. I rather enjoyed the look you had after the first time” He says with a smirk. You finally hit his shoulder.

“I did not have a ‘look’ after kissing you.” You argue.

“Yes you did.” He says back.

“No I didn’t!” You say with more force

“Yes you did.”

And this went on back and forth the whole ride home. You knew asking him was a bad idea.

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I hope you enjoyed this, and that you have a great New Years or when ever you find yourself reading this :3

💛 ~

#OBEY ME #obey me game #shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me belphegor #belphegor #belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #x reader #obey me x reader #x female reader #holidays 2020 #new year #naughty or nice list #naughty list #request

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peculiarmindset · 3 years

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Can you do a prompt where Draco accidentally farts infront of Harry for the first time

***Sorry for the long wait- I really liked this prompt and wanted to write it out properly. And this will probably be the last prompt I write for anybody for while (unless I REALLY like it). I have something planned and hopefully it’ll be ready by this weekend *crosses fingers* Hope you enjoy anon! 🤗

The Bunbuster Fart - Sounds like a Beefy One, except much more sudden and much much more powerful. Generally smells eggy or beefy. Leaves your asshole smarting. You really feel these babies.

“How about an after dinner game of Quidditch?”

“You’re on!”

Draco and Hermione exchanged an exasperated but fond look as they watched the Weasleys running out the door, with Ron pulling a laughing Harry along with him.

If someone told Draco a few years ago that he’d be at one of the Weasley’s Sunday Dinners as a welcomed guest and actually find himself enjoying the company of redheads, he would have laughed himself silly before hexing that poor sod for good measure.

But here he was.

And he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but the Burrow at that moment.

“Well, let’s go after them, shall we?” Hermione sighed, as she stood up from her seat.

Draco nodded as he also made his way up, looking behind to see the Weasley matriarch putting away the dishes with some help from Fleur. “Would you like some help, Mrs. Weasley?”

Molly looked up, one of the empty gravy boats in hand, as she grinned and made a shooing gesture at them. “Thank you dear, but you can leave it to me and Fleur here.” Molly gave him a wink. “And it’s Molly to you, remember? Now you all have fun!”

Draco chuckled. “Alright. We’ll see you after the game, Molly.”

“There’ll be some dessert waiting for you all when you return!” She called out to them as the two left.

Draco followed Hermione as they headed to the field, seeing Ginny and Ron already in some sort of argument.

“You ALWAYS get Harry!” Ginny yelled at her brother, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Mens before hens, little sister!” Ron crowed, shielding Harry behind him as if afraid she would physically drag his best friend to her team.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” She argued. She opened her mouth to add something before catching a glimpse at Draco and Hermione in a conversation as they made their way towards them. She paused and a sly grin grew on her face.

“Fine- you can keep the used goods.” Ignoring Harry’s offended “Hey!”, Ginny quickly made her way to the approaching pair and grabbed both their hands, startling the two.

“I get both your better halves on my team then!” She called out.

Ron snorted. “Sure. Malfoy has never once won against Harry and Mione’s never played at all.”

Ginny just smirked at her brother, as she pulled them away and formed a huddle with her team.

“Ok, so today is kind of like the grand championship of all games. Me and Ron are at a dead tie and today is the day we find out who is superior.” Ginny explained to Draco and Hermione. George already knew the rivalry his two youngest siblings had when it came to their family matches.

“I don’t think me playing is a good idea.” Hermione bit her lip, looking her ‘team’ that consisted of Draco, George, her and captained by Ginny. The other team had Harry, Bill, George’s girlfriend, Angelina and was captained by Ron. The referees were Percy and Arthur.

Ginny gave a dark laugh. “No, today will be utterly brilliant.” They came together as Ginny told them of her plan.

“My little sister has gone absolutely bonkers…let do it.” George grinned widely, grabbing his broom.

Even Hermione was smiling.

Draco looked at his boyfriend’s ex with an shocked and impressed look. “And how are you not in Slytherin?”

Ginny lips curved upward. “And break the Weasley tradition? Would’ve given my brothers a heart attack.” She gave a laugh and winked at the wide-eyed look Draco gave her. “What? Harry’s not the only one who can talk a hat into doing what they want.”

(=^w^=)**************************

This had to be one of the most bizarre but downright most fun quidditch games Draco ever played in.

Harry and he were of course the seekers, with Ginny and Angelina as chasers, George and Bill as beaters, and Ron and Hermione as the keepers.

At first, the game went alright, with Ron’s team gaining a lead in the first half.

Which was of course, all according to Ginny’s plan- to give her brother a false sense of security.

And then the second half is where everything went mad.

Draco trailed after his boyfriend and whenever he got too close, he would give accidental brushes here and there, a lingering touch and smile that darkened with barely concealed want that made his beau pause and shiver, completely distracting him from searching for the snitch.

Ron wasn’t faring any better neither. Although he and his girlfriend were on other sides of the field as they protected their respective goals, Hermione would flash him flirty looks and overly praise him with compliments whenever he stopped a goal, distracting her boyfriend and making his face as red as his hair.

Hermione and Draco had asked if their method would have been considered cheating, but Ginny assured them that after the Weasley Halloween match of 91’ where it ended with Percy’s arm twisted like a pretzel and Fred somehow turned into a gnome and lost in their garden for 3 days, everything was fair game during the Weasley Quidditch Matches.

George had also done the same game plan to Angelina, but his girlfriend had eventually caught on what he was up to.

But unfortunately, Ginny had predicted for that to happen and helped George make offensive attacks instead towards Angelina and Bill (who Ginny was originally targeting).

Draco flew his broom higher, trying to get a good view of the whole field and also for one other personal reason.

As he hovered above and watched Ginny hitting the quaffle through the hoop, barely missing Ron’s head, he felt a burst hot air slowly hiss out of his bottom.

Pssssssstttttt….

Draco hoped his blush wasn’t showing as his indiscreetly tried to shift his broom, fanning the stench away.

In actuality, the blonde’s stomach started to act up a few minutes after their game began.

Draco had eaten a lot during dinner, almost the same amount as Ron, which was quite an impressive feat.

Not only was this the first time he has tasted the Weasley matriarch’s cooking (whom he quickly agreed made the best Sunday dinner he ever ate) but he had also wanted to make a good impression on his boyfriend’s ‘adopted’ family as well.

Luckily, Molly had pretty much taken to Draco almost immediately anyway since anyone who made Harry happy as he was now, was pretty much welcomed as part of her family. But seeing the blonde enjoy her food as much as he had was like the cherry on the top.

Draco bit his lip, as another fart let him, the embarrassing sound audible to his ears making him grimace.

He should have never had that second helping of pot roast, let alone a third helping. Or any extra helpings he had of whatever was on that table.

Bbbbrrrrttttt….

Draco huffed as he ignored his lower half and tried to focus back on the game.

To everyone’s surprise, Hermione actually made a decent keeper. When she wasn’t distracting Ron, she was able to guard her goalpost and prevent any quaffle from entering.

Who knew that underneath that bushy haired bookworm lied a decent keeper?

Pffffffttttt….

Draco bit his lip as more air expelled from his bumcheeks. Thankfully, they were out in the open and he was far away from the others so no one would know about the symphony of farts his arsehole was playing right now.

Draco suddenly shot up, a loud fart boomed out of him when he did so, when he finally spotted the snitch.

Ignoring his rumbling belly, he zoomed right towards the snitch just at the same time that Harry had also caught sight of it.

They flew side by side, a few feet apart, both exchanging grins before focusing their sole attention on capturing the snitch.

The blonde wasn’t even aware of all the farts that was shooting out of his bum at that moment (they were too quiet for Harry to hear anyway and the speed of which they flew blew away the smells his farts may have had and cause it to dissipate in the wind).

After a few more twists and turns, both boys finally reached out their hands as they made to caught the snitch.

The snitch entered his hand.

And it was over.

Ginny’s team won.

“I got it!” Draco yelled triumphantly, holding up the snitch proudly in his hand.

“HELL YESSSSSS!” Ginny’s scream echoed throughout the field, loud enough to scare the flock of passing birds away.

Draco could hear his boyfriend laughing but his thoughts were too focused on the fact that he finally won against Harry Potter.

He, Draco Malfoy, finally caught the snitch.

The boys flew their brooms towards the ground, to a patch of high grass that was a little away from everyone and hidden the pair a bit, but they were too tired from their earlier chase to fly anymore.

As soon as they landed, Harry grinned at Draco and gave the blonde a loud smack on the lips. “Congratulations, love.”

Draco’s eyes were sparkling as he held up the snitch to the other. “Finally beat you, Potter.”

Harry chuckled as he nodded his head. “Right you did. I’m proud of you, although I kinda feel bad for Ron- Ginny will never let him live this down.” He tilted his head to the right and they both watched Ginny and George, arms crossed as they danced in circles and crowed loudly to their victory.

The boyfriends snorted when they saw Hermione trying to console her defeated boyfriend- although she wasn’t doing a very good job as she herself was laughing too much.

Harry shook his head as he gave the other a soft smile and pulled his boyfriend to him for a big hug and another kiss.

Right then, Draco’s gut reminded him of his earlier gas problems and before he could do anything, Harry gave his middle a tight saueeze, making Draco let out a huge and very loud fart right then.

BRRRRTTTTTT!

They both froze at Draco’s fart.

Mortified, Draco tried to push the other away, unable to believe that he had just farted in front of his boyfriend.

He wanted to die.

And that fart just now wasn’t only one of the loudest and smelliest one yet, but it exited his arsehole with a burn- he had to swallow the whimper at the sting it left.

Not knowing what to do, Draco became confused when he suddenly heard a snort that was quickly followed by loud laughter as he was once again gathered up in his lover’s arms.

“I guess your bum wanted to congratulate you as well, love.” Harry giggled, holding the other close to him, wanting to make sure the blonde knew he didn’t mind at all so his boyfriend wouldn’t feel bad.

Draco blushed, but stopped trying to escape as he let himself be held. “Oh, shut up Harry. I ate too much earlier.” He grumbled, relieved that his boyfriend wasn’t grossed out by Draco breaking wind.

Harry guffawed. “I’ll say, never thought you could put away all that food- I was impressed. Made Molly very happy.” Harry paused before giving a loud sniff, making a face. “But maybe next time, you might want to skip the extra helping of pot roast, love. It really stinks right now.” The air around them had a foul stench which was strangely meaty.

“Shut up.” Draco’s face reddened even more. “Unfortunately, my flatulence doesn’t come off as roses, oh mighty savior.”

Harry snorted. “Flatulence. So posh, you prat. Just say fart like the rest of us.” He then grinned. “But who knew this lovely thing would let out such a manly ‘burp’.” He patted his boyfriends bum before giving it a teasing squeeze.

Although Draco’s face was still red, he was glad that his boyfriend wasn’t disgusted or turned off by his emission of gas.

As he was still riding off the high from his first quidditch win against his lover, when he felt his boyfriend give his buttocks another squeeze, the blonde mustered up all the courage he had and shoved his bum hard against the other’s hand and forced out a very noisy and quite wet sounding fart right onto his unsuspecting lover.

BRRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP!

Draco burst out laughing as Harry gasped. “And that was my bum’s way of also saying I won and you lost, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort back but he ended up coughing as the powerful stench of rotten meat filled the air just then.

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Draco giggled as he quickly dodged his lover’s hands as the other made to grab him and he ran as fast as he could back to the others.

Draco couldn’t wait to come back again for next week’s Weasley Sunday Dinners and hopefully have another after-dinner game of Quidditch.

#Asks #Farting #Fart Drabble #HP #Draco #Harry

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