#what the fuck was his problem he just went batshit. straight for the throat

[sowheresmyroom]

Alastor is the funniest bitch in the show for that absolute buck wild song interruption by the way. Calling himself Dad while making the most unhinged, unblinking eye contact will never not make me keel over in laughter. Man snapped, he was so fucking mad for what??

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor #I've watched the song like 30 times now and i CANNOT keep a straight face. #even just thinking about it makes me have to restraint s giggle fit #what the fuck was his problem he just went batshit. straight for the throat #actually pissed off alastor is my favorite thing so far i think. its so funny #fave #episode 5 spoilers

[buckthegrump]

Wait, What?

The Himbo Chronicles

Summary: Someone has a date.

Word Count: 1569

Warnings: angst, a little bit of fluff maybe, minor stalking

A/n: here ya go

Bucky knocked on Y/n’s door, she barely got the words ‘come in’ out before he walked in.

“Ok, so for dinner tonight I’m thinking we go to dim sum,” he plopped himself on her bed.

“Uhhh -” her voice came from her bathroom.

“What?”

“I actually have a date tonight.”

Bucky froze and stared at the slightly ajar bathroom door. His brain short-circuited for a moment before it rebooted.

“Wait, what?” He asked, sounding maybe a little too shocked.

She walked out of her bathroom looking like hell on wheels, and he lost the ability to make coherent thoughts. Again. 

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” he finally choked out.

“I mean, this is only date two,” she shrugged as she slipped on her shoes.

“Oh,” he couldn’t stop the disappointment from entering his voice, “Well, be safe.”

“I always am,” she said and walked out of her room leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts.

After about thirty seconds of that bullshit, he left the room.

* * *

Y/n had only been sitting across from Tyler for two minutes before she realized that this guy was batshit crazy. There was an energy to him on this date that hadn’t been there the last time they’d gone out.

It’s like he was waving his red flags around for everyone to see, proud of just how fucked up he was.

A few different scenarios ran through her head, if she did what she really wanted to do and make a break for it, he would definitely stalk her. She could excuse herself to the bathroom but he would notice her take her purse, damn women’s clothing and it’s lack of pockets. Or she could just wait until the end of the night, pay for her own meal and then ghost him.

He began talking about how all his exes were crazy and how someday they would get what was coming to them. 

By that time they had been on the date for forty-five minutes and he hadn’t asked her a single question. She hadn’t even been able to get more than five words in. He was being rude to the waitstaff and honestly, she just wanted this all to be over. 

Thankfully their server brought over the check quickly. However, it was a single check and the guy took care of it before she had a chance to offer to split it. Something told her that he was going to bring that up later to try and guilt her for owing him something.

They were standing outside the restaurant, he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about wanting to continue the night.

“Well, thank you for dinner,” she nodded at him ready to make her escape.

“Wait,” he said, and despite her brain yelling at her to just walk away, she stopped and turned back to him, “you don’t want to take this back to my place?”

“Oh, sorry,” she wanted to punch herself for apologizing, “I have an early morning tomorrow and should probably getting home.”

“C’mon,” Tyler stepped towards her, “I promise that we’ll have a lot of fun.”

“I really should go,” she said. This time she didn’t wait for a reply as she walked away.

* * *

Her night seemed to be one giant idiot plot that didn’t seem like it planned on stopping. Why had she decided to try and be a decent person by taking the subway to the date instead of a car?

She knew Tyler was following her. It was one of the skills she’d picked up from being an avenger, being able to tell when she was being followed. Not to mention he was doing a terrible job.

But recognizing the problem and dealing with it were two very different issues. She hadn’t felt the need to mention to anyone at the tower that she wasn’t the best fighter. She spent most of the time on the jet or in a hotel room, when would her fighting ability have come up?

So now her only option was to try and shake him and she could do that very well in the subway. Which is how she ended up walking around the streets of New York taking random turns not really paying attention to where she was going.

With no real idea of how long it should take her to shake a tail, she had been walking for an extra thirty minutes before she finally decided to text Bucky.

She didn’t give him any real context, just a corner to meet her at in fifteen minutes and hoped that he would show up. There wasn’t really a doubt in her mind that he would show up, he always did.

The fifteen-minute walk to the street corner she’d text Bucky was the longest of her life. 

She was about a block away from where she told Bucky to meet her when he came up beside her.

“What’s up?” He asked.

Instead of answering, she quickly glanced behind them before looking straight ahead again. They made it to the end of the block before Bucky asked again.

“The guy I went on a date with, he’s following me,” she said. She hadn’t let go of his hand realized but he hadn’t given any hint that he wanted it back, and it was making her feel safer than she had a few minutes ago.

“So turn around and kick his ass,” he said sneaking a peek behind them.

“He’s bigger than I am and I -” she cut herself off.

Bucky cleared his throat. “You haven’t learned any self-defense?”

Her silence was, clearly, answer enough for him.

“Jesus, do you want me to die from a heart attack?” He asked.

“Says the person who bought not one but two farm animals and also a farm,” she muttered.

“You’re being stalked and you’re making jokes?”

“Humor is how I deal with shit, Barnes.”

He huffed and pulled her into an alley. He had her stand against the wall of one of the buildings and stood next to her. They were hiding behind a dumpster, not a minute later Tyler stepped into the dimly lit backstreet.

“That’s him,” she whispered to Bucky.

“Y/n, who’s your friend?” Tyler called knowing that they were there.

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped out of the shadows so Tyler could see him. Tyler opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, but Bucky’s fist collided with his jaw before he got the chance.

Tyler stumbled to the ground, honestly, Y/n was surprised that he hadn’t been knocked out by the blow. Bucky grabbed Tyler by his collar and lifted him half off the ground so their faces were inches apart.

She walked up behind Bucky just to make sure that no one got murdered.

“You’re going to leave her alone, you go that?” Bucky snarled and Tyler nodded his head pathetically. “And if I ever hear that you are harassing anyone else I won’t be as forgiving as I was this time. Do I make myself clear?”

Tyler nodded again. 

Not wanting to stick around, BUcky grabbed Y/n’s hand and led her back to the street. They walked a block or two before he next to one of Tony’s cars. He opened the door for her wordlessly.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t use a helicopter or something,” she muttered as she climbed in the passenger side. Once he was seated he looked over at her.

“I was already in the area,” was all he said before he started driving.

She had about a million questions but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to answer them so she stayed quiet.

He drove through the city, the ambiance of the life that carried on around them was the only thing that kept them from being in complete silence.

It wasn’t until they were on a country road when she spoke again.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked.

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“You’re very quiet.”

“Well, not to sound like Edward Cullen but it’s taking a lot of brainpower to not turn around and kill that guy.”

She gave him a look. “You’ve seen twilight? Enough times to quote it?”

“Excuse you?” He gasped. “You say that like you don’t make me watch it with you every time you decide that you’re going to get wine drunk and watch it. I could’ve gone my whole life without watching that fucking movie.”

“Please, you enjoy it!” She yelled with a smile on her face.

“If I enjoyed it that much, I would’ve gone out of my way to watch the other ones,” he rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t made you watch the other ones?” He shook his head and her smile got wider. “Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”

“If anything, I’m teaching you how to defend yourself.”

“Hmm, no I’m pretty sure we’re watching the other four movies of the twilight saga,” she said in a higher-pitched voice.

“The fuck you mean ‘other four movies’?” 

“Besides, why would I need to learn to defend myself if you’re here to save me?” She asked. She couldn’t tell if she meant it as a joke or not. But she wasn’t about to dwell on that so she moved on. “Where were you tonight?”

Bucky smirked still staring out the windshield. “Just running some errands.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #the himbo chronicles

[heyyyharry]

Last chapter: Flatmate

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which they live happily ever after.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter 16: Falling Like The Stars - Their best friends get married.

Wattpad link

A/N: This is it, guys. The last flatmate chapter. It's time to say goodbye to our favorite characters! 

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"Y/N, what are you doing in there?!"

After three more knocks on his flatmate's bedroom door, Harry was losing his patience. He'd been waiting outside for five minutes already and still hadn't got a single answer from her.

Why had he wanted a flatmate in the first place? Oh right, to split the rent. That was the only reason. But he should've thought about the overall cost which definitely had exceeded the benefits of sharing a flat with someone he couldn't stand. Now, he was paying for it.

He raised his fist to knock again, but then the door swung open and Y/N poked her head out, glaring at him.

"Oh, you're alive," he said, only to receive a disappointed frown.

"Go. Away," she grumbled, about to slam the door when he jammed his foot in to stop her quickly.

"Nuh-uh, darling. We need to talk about last night."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there—" Y/N stopped and waved him off. "You know what? This is ridiculous."

As she attempted to shut the door in his face, he quickly put his hand on it and stepped forward, forcing her to lean back, her eyes bulging. He thought it was hilarious how flustered she was every time he got a bit too close.

Smirking, Harry tilted his head and lowered his voice. "What is more ridiculous is you being mad at me for having sex in my room."

"Are you kidding me?" Y/N crossed her arms, her jaw fell slack. "No, I'm not mad at you for having sex. That's all you've been doing since we moved in together."

He stuck out his bottom lip and gave a nod to agree.

"You still don't know why I'm mad at you?"

Her question left him tongue-tied. He parted his lips, about to deny it, only to realize he didn't actually know the reason.

"Okay." She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. "Remember when we first moved into this flat and you broke my vase?"

"'Accidentally' broke your vase."

"Whatever. You broke my vase. I bought a new one. And last night while you were having sex—" Y/N's arm straightened as she pointed to her right. "Against that wall! You knocked over my new vase and broke it as well!"

"How the fuck could I have known you put your vase there?!"

"Then you shouldn't have fucked your girl against the wall between our rooms! I've let you get away with it too many times before!"

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry then," he breathed, lifting his shoulders in a half shrug. "I'm sorry for fucking someone in my room. I'll make sure to do that in the living room or the kitchen next time! Happy?"

Y/N held his gaze for a long moment before she let out a humorless scoff, "you're an asshole. You know that?"

Of course Harry knew that. It wasn't the first time he'd heard someone say it, and certainly wasn't the first time he'd heard it from her. Still, it kind of hurt his feelings when she pushed him back and slammed the door in his face. He tried knocking again, but the only response he got this time was the sound of her locking her door. He had no right to get angry. But he did. Mostly because he couldn't explain why he felt hurt by her reaction.

Stepping back, he gave a short mirthless laugh and raised his voice to make sure she heard every word loud and clear, "have fun eating alone! Let's see how long you can avoid me."

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"Y/N! You can't avoid me forever!"

"Nobody's avoiding you, Stephanie," Y/N said as soon as she opened the door and greeted her neighbor with a heavy sigh. It was 7 AM. She was super weary and her belly was aching, but she assumed it was because she was close to her due date. Harry had left home early to prepare for an important meeting and she had overslept so now she was late for work. The last thing she needed was for Stephanie to waste more of her time.

"What do you want?" she asked, slightly annoyed by the blonde who was barefoot in the hallway and wearing only her nightgown. But Y/N wasn't so shocked for she knew this woman was batshit crazy.

"Where the fuck is Tiger?"

"How am I supposed to know? He's your cat," Y/N calmly replied. "Look, I'm having a bad morning, so—"

"Oh, so 'a bad morning' does exist in the Styles household then?" Stephanie snorted, her hands resting on her hips. "Where's Harry? Did he finally come to his senses and ask for a divorce? Is he living with his mistress now?"

"Uh, no?" Y/N's face contorted. "I'm having a bad morning because I'm late for work and my crazy neighbor is wasting my time."

She tried to shut the door but Stephanie slammed her hand right on it. "Mrs. Woods said she saw Tiger with your little cat this morning."

"Treasure is with Nam, so Tiger is probably with them," Y/N said as she rolled her eyes, but Stephanie's reaction left her confused. Her neighbor looked so...scared? Why was she scared?

"Did you—" Stephanie swallowed, her eyes widened at Y/N's feet. "Did you just pee or your water just broke?"

It was only then that Y/N looked down and saw the puddle between her feet. Her body stiffened at once. Stephanie, on the other hand, was making weird noises while fanning herself and panting like it was her who needed help.

"It's happening," Y/N mumbled as she shoved her hair away from her face, trying to stay calm, yet Stephanie's reaction wasn't really helping.

"Oh my God! Holy fuck! Jesus fucking Christ!" the blonde gasped. "Are you gonna give birth right here?! I'm scared of blood and babies! I think I'm gonna faint!"

"No!" Y/N bolted forward to catch Stephanie's arm before she could run. The woman was shaking when Y/N squeezed her shoulders, looked straight into her eyes and whispered, "I need you to take me to the hospital."

"Me?! Why—"

"Shut the fuck up and take me to the hospital, Steph!"

"Okay!" Stephanie screamed back, nodding so fast her head could fall off.

Now shaking, Y/N went inside to grab her coat and locked the door on her way out, but then the contractions intensified and she had to hold onto Stephanie as they headed toward the lift. She needed Harry now!

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Here we go again, Harry told himself.

Every time they fought about something he'd done, his flatmate would give him the silent treatment. And despite telling himself he didn't care about her, Harry had always been the first to apologize.

Why was someone like him scared of a silly girl, you may ask?

Well, first off, Y/N wasn't a silly girl. She was one of the smartest people he knew, and sometimes she reminded him of his big sister Gemma. Whenever Y/N was mad at him, he was scared of her in the same way he was scared of Gemma. It wasn't the same fear Layla brought upon him. Gemma wouldn't hit him when he made her angry. She just stopped talking to him and started avoiding him, which was even worse, because she was his sister and he loved her and was afraid of losing her. So it was nonsensical to compare Y/N, someone he strongly disliked, to Gemma, one of the only two people he truly loved. But then it made him think harder. Was he scared of losing Y/N too? No! That was crazy. Impossible! But there was no other explanation for this.

Oh well, he hoped he'd figure it out someday. Soon, hopefully. Now, he had a bigger problem to deal with: Y/N was supposed to come home an hour ago and she didn't answer her phone.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't let her get to him. He wouldn't let her win by being the first person to reach out. Because if that girl kept on winning, she would one day have complete control over him (not that he actually believed it was possible). But once again, he found himself pacing back and forth in his living room, biting his nails and waiting for her to reply to his texts or call him back.

"She's probably talking to one of the neighbors again," he told himself yet didn't stop pacing. "Right? It happened before. You were scared shitless but it turned out she was fine. You're overreacting, dickhead. If she saw you now, she'd laugh in your face."

His monologue was interrupted by his loud ringtone and his heart almost flew out of his chest. Unfortunately, it wasn't Y/N. It was their neighbor Ben, who had probably forgotten to lock the door again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Ben, what's up mate?"

"It's about Y/N, she—"

"She's not here right now." Harry blew out his cheek as he looked at his front door. "I don't know where she is. She doesn't answer her phone and—"

"I know," Ben said. "I'm with her in the hospital."

The hospital?!

"Wait, what—what happened?" Harry faltered as he felt a big lump in his throat.

With a sigh, Ben told him, "she had food poisoning and asked me to drive her to the hospital. She told me not to tell you but—"

"Text me the address."

"Wait, Harry—"

"Now, Ben."

Just like that, Harry grabbed his car key and bolted out of the flat. Y/N was the only thing left on his mind.

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"...then at 12 PM, you'll have lunch with Mr. Nakamura from Sato to discuss launching their new business in the UK market. At 2 PM, you'll meet our new potential client to discuss marketing spend optimization on digital channels and—"

"Thank you, Marie. Just email me the whole schedule."

"Yes, sir."

Harry gave his assistant a smile and told her to get him a black coffee before he entered the meeting room.

As usual, he greeted everyone at the table and sat down in his chair so they could start as soon as possible. Every meeting with Harry was like a quiz show. He asked questions and expected confident answers from the attendees, who knew him well enough to not show up unprepared. That was how every meeting with him stayed productive and efficient.

Y/N would joke about his CEO persona all the time after seeing how he talked to his employees. CEO Harry was so different from everyday Harry. He was super serious at work, especially during formal meetings when he did very little talking. He normally just sat back and listened, and he hated when someone distracted him while someone else was speaking. Marie, his assistant, should know that better than anyone else.

"Mr. Styles!"

The redhead burst into the room, causing the presenter to stop talking as all eyes fell on her. Annoyed, Harry waved his hand for Marie to leave and for the person standing at the other end of the table to continue. But the girl didn't listen and walked in anyway.

"Mr. Styles, this is—"

"Marie," Harry finally spoke, turning his chair to look at the girl now standing right beside him. "Just email me the schedule."

"It's not...it's not that..." she breathed and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

The chatter got louder as everyone started second-guessing what was going on, but all Harry could hear was those words Marie had just said to him. He rose from his seat, casually apologized for having to leave and told his assistant to take notes of everything and send it to him later. And of course, no one dared to ask him why.

He managed to maintain his CEO persona all the way to the lift, but the moment he arrived at the multistory car park, he started sprinting for his life to the car.

He started the engine and got the hell out as fast as he could. It felt like he was in a car chase scene in an action movie when his Range Rover swerved around corners and his adrenaline was pumping. But reality wasn't as cool as movies. He still had to stay within the speed limit, stop at red lights, and try not to run someone over and get arrested before he could even see his daughter's face.

As if he wasn't stressed out enough, Layla had to blow up his phone. He almost didn't answer, but she kept on calling so he had to put her on speaker.

"Hey, where the fuck are you?!" she shouted before he could speak. "She's going into labor!"

"I'll be there shortly."

"Wait, wait, Y/N wants to talk to you."

"Hey, baby!" His wife's voice was strained and breathy so he could imagine how painful those contractions were. "Can you come home and—and get the stuff we've packed for me and Ria?"

"Shit, I can't make a U-turn here, give me thirty minutes. You need anything else, love?"

"Get yourself some clothes too, you might have to stay with us for a few days."

"Should I grab something nice for pictures or whatever? I mean—"

"Harry, a baby is gonna come out of my FUCKING vagina! Just grab a t-shirt and get your ass over here!"

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he turned the car around so fast he almost ran a cyclist over. Looking into his rearview mirror, he saw the poor man get back up with his bike and raise his middle fingers in the air. Well, at least he was okay.

So much for treating people with kindness, Harry thought as he kept on driving.

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Harry hated a lot of things, and the hospital was definitely in his top five. Now he hated Y/N for making him go in there when he was still healthy and alive.

As the nurse took him to see her, he tried to distract himself from the awful distinctive smell of the hospital with a thousand thoughts. Then it occurred to him that he could be the reason she'd ended up having food poisoning. She must have eaten the leftovers in the fridge because she hadn't eaten dinner with him last night.

Great, it all circled back to him. Maybe she was better off living with someone else. Wait, what if she had already considered that? What if—

"Harry?"

Her soft voice pulled him back to reality and he found himself standing at the door of her hospital room. She was lying on the bed with Ben sitting right by her side. The older man stood up right when he saw Harry and told Y/N, "you'll thank me later" before marching straight to the door. He stopped in front of Harry, patted him on the back and told him he got this before heading out.

I got this, Harry reassured himself as he sucked in a breath, but as soon as he closed the door and saw the look on his flatmate's face, he knew he hadn't got this, not at all.

"Did Ben ask you to come here?" she questioned, arms crossed over her chest. She was obviously still mad but he felt hopeful when she didn't ask him to go.

"He told me you were here. I wanted to come," he said timidly.

Y/N gave him the side eyes and was quiet for a moment before jerking her head toward the chair by her bed. "Sit down," she said.

He quickly did as he was told, no question asked. His bashfulness seemed to amuse her as she pressed her lips together to hide a grin, but he spotted it right away and now his heart didn't know how to slow down.

"How—" he broke the silence. "How are ya feeling?"

"Well, better than this morning." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked away when meeting his eyes.

He waited for her to continue but she didn't, so he went on, "when are you coming home?" Harry swallowed hard as her eyes fell back on him.

"Home?"

"I mean...our flat."

He couldn't believe he'd said home. It just felt like it was home. Well, at least for him.

"Tomorrow." She smiled, making his stomach clench. "Enjoy the only night without me."

That was exactly what he'd wanted before. Y/N rarely left their flat. She didn't have many friends and she preferred the comfort of her room to the rowdiness of social gatherings. He had wished that she would go out for just one night and didn't come back until the next morning so he could do whatever, and fuck whoever he wanted without having to worry about starting another fight with her. Yet, now that he finally got what he'd wished for, he only wanted...her.

"Is it okay if I stay here tonight?"

His question surprised them both. He wasn't even aware of him saying it until he saw the look on Y/N's face. She was surprised and speechless and perplexed at the same time.

Thinking for a second, she said, "are you sure? Ben said that couch wasn't very comfortable."

"It's just one night." He chuckled. "Besides, someone has to look after you."

"I'm in the hospital, H! I'm surrounded by people with medical degrees whose job is to look after me."

"They can't be here twenty-four seven!" he argued.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N smacked her forehead and dissolved into laughter, making it impossible for Harry to keep a straight face.

"The worst case scenario is me throwing up all over these white sheets...again," she said. "Besides, I only ate some bad food. It's not like I'm dying."

Harry didn't know if he was only imagining things, but he could've sworn his heart had just skipped a beat when Y/N flashed him another smile.

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"I'M DYING! I AM DYING! I'M DYING!"

"No, baby, you're not, you—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

Harry had seen a woman giving birth in many movies before and even imagined himself as the poor husband, who would most likely faint when he saw the baby's head coming out of his wife's vagina. But this wasn't anything like he'd thought he'd experience.

With each contraction, his wife screamed and squeezed his hand and he had to stop himself from screaming too because her pain was a hundred times worse. Had he been there alone with her, he would've passed out hours ago. Thank God, her sister and Layla were also there to help them get through this.

Maisie was probably the calmest because she'd done this before. She was sitting on the other side of the bed, facing Harry and holding Y/N's left hand. "It's okay," she said. "You're a strong girl. You can do this." Still, it didn't stop Y/N from bawling like her guts were being ripped out.

"I love you, baby. I'm so proud of you." Harry pressed his lips against her temple and started stroking her dampened hair. She was soaked in sweat and she couldn't even open her eyes. Meanwhile, Layla was biting her nails and pacing back and forth near the entrance. She was just as scared as Harry was, but she had refused to wait outside like Niall because she wanted to see Asteria before the others.

"You gotta keep pushing, sweetie. You got this," said the female doctor.

Harry's throat was dry and he felt like his insides were on fire. He kept stroking her hair and his voice was hoarse when he tried to pacify her. His words, however, were almost useless at this point.

"You did this to me!" Her body shook as she sobbed, her face was red and twisted in pain. "You fucked me! This is all your fault!"

Harry was freaking out so he could only nod and agree with everything she said. "Yes, baby, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry."

"No, you're not!" she barked at him. "You're not going anywhere near my cunt again!"

Layla's loud cackle got everyone's attention so she cleared her throat and gave a shrug. "What? It was the first time I heard her say 'cunt'!"

"Hello?!! I'm the one giving birth here!"

"Shit, right!" Layla gasped and rushed toward the bed to kneel beside Harry. "Push, bitch! The harder you push the sooner this will be over!"

"You're doing great, sweetie! The head is out!" the doctor told Y/N, who gave her husband an agonizing smile as he got up from the floor, enthusiastic to see his baby for the first time.

"HOLY SHIT! THAT'S A BLOODY HEAD!"

"Harry!" all the women shouted at him.

"No, like literally a bloody head!"

"That's your daughter, asshole!"

"I know, baby! I'm just freaking out!"

"You're freaking out?! I'm the one with the bloody head coming out of my—" That sentence was left unfinished as the scream tore through Y/N like a great shard of glass. The scream came again, desperate as the blood drained from her face.

In Harry's intense silence, his eyes were wide with horror, mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile. Her nails were digging into his arm, possibly leaving marks but all he could pay attention to was the deafening sound of his heart beating in his ears.

"One more time!" the doctor encouraged.

With a guttural grunt, Y/N gave one final push and the only sound they could hear was heavy panting of all the people in the room. Then, at last, came the baby's high-pitched cry.

Harry knew he must have looked like an idiot as he burst into tears in an instant, yet he couldn't help it. He started it and now Y/N, Layla, and Maisie were crying too. The doctor put Asteria in her mother's arms and Harry kneeled back down to kiss his wife again and again. He couldn't believe it. That was his beautiful daughter. She was here and this was real. They'd made it.

"Hello baby girl," Y/N whispered as she carefully held her daughter close to her chest. "You just made the whole family cry for you."

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Ben wasn't kidding when he said that couch was uncomfortable. Harry had been tossing and turning for almost two hours, and he still couldn't find a good position to fall asleep in. As a result, he was sitting in the chair by Y/N's bed, just...watching her sleep instead.

Okay, this is creepy, he thought. This reminded him of that Twilight movie he'd watched with her a couple of weeks ago. He had even joked about what a creep the vampire dude was for watching his girlfriend sleep. Now here he was, watching Y/N sleep and she wasn't even his girlfriend.

Despite so, once he'd started, he couldn't stop. There was something so therapeutic about watching her sleep. He liked the softness in her features. She looked so lovely when she wasn't frowning at everything he said and did, but this couldn't come close to how she looked whenever she smiled. And he bet her skin was super soft.

Wait, where did that come from? Why was he thinking about that? Shit! Now it was the only thing he could think about.

He had never touched her before so he wouldn't know how soft her skin was. And he was curious. He wanted to know. So maybe he should—

Biting his lip, Harry gently touched her cheek with his forefinger and withdrew his hand immediately as she stirred and released a long breath. Thank God, she didn't wake up, otherwise he would've died from embarrassment.

He chuckled lowly when she lifted her hand and rubbed the spot on her cheek where his fingertip had touched.

"Why can't you be this cute all the time?" he whispered.

If she had been awake, she definitely would've heard him. But she wasn't awake, and he was too exhausted to keep his thoughts to himself. "You have to get better, alright?" he continued, keeping his voice quiet and low. "Get better and come home with me."

Home. He'd used that word again. But now that she wasn't listening, he didn't even bother to correct himself.

Home. He liked the sound of that.

He sat there with his chin on his palm and watched her sleep for another half an hour until exhaustion told him to get some rest. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was 5 AM already. There was no point sleeping now that the sun was coming up in only two hours. Harry thought he should go buy a can of coffee at the vending machine to wake himself up.

As his brain was weary from the lack of sleep, he didn't quite remember where that bloody machine was, and so he wandered aimlessly down the long corridor, eyes squinting and trying to adjust to the bright light. He kept on walking and walking, and eventually found himself outside the newborn nursery.

He was lost and should probably go find that vending machine so he could get back to Y/N. But no matter what his brain told him, his body refused to comply as his feet stayed glued to the spot. He stood there and looked through the massive window into the room. That were three rows of bassinets and...a lot of babies. He had never seen a newborn before and now he was seeing about ten of them.

"Which one is yours?"

The voice caused him to jerk away.

"Sorry for scaring ya," said the stranger. He was tall and lanky, around forty years old and Harry took a wild guess that he was the father of one of those ten babies in there.

"I'm not..." Harry stuttered. "Uh...I'm not a father."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, no! That's not what I meant!" the young man shook his head quickly. "I was looking for the vending machine and I got lost."

"Shit, sorry, mate." The man burst out laughing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He probably expected Harry to leave right away, but he was still standing there.

"Which one is yours?" Harry asked the stranger.

Smiling, the man pointed into the room. "First row. Third one from the right."

"A girl?"

"Yup. My sweet little princess."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." The man cracked a smile as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "Who knows? You could be standing here again a few years later."

Harry snorted and almost said that would never happen. But then his phone started buzzing in his pocket and he had to excuse himself to answer the call from Y/N.

"Where are you?" she asked the second he said 'hello'.

"I'm getting some coffee. Ya need something?"

"No...I-I woke up and I didn't see you so..."

"Oh." He licked his lip as his eyes shifted back to the babies. "I...um...I'll be back in five minutes."

"Okay...cool."

"Okay. Cool."

Just like that, he hung up. He didn't need to say a word because his pink cheeks had already spoken for him.

"Girlfriend?" the man asked with a smile.

Smiling back, he put his phone away and said, "more like a problem."

"Aren't they all?" The man jokingly rolled his eyes. "You should probably go. I'm gonna get back to my wife."

"Alright. It's good talking to you."

Just like that, Harry watched the nameless stranger walk away.

.

.

.

"Do you think Ria would ever forgive me?"

Niall's question made Harry chuckle. His best friend had insisted that they came to the newborn nursery to see Ria, because he felt bad for not being there when she first arrived. The longer they watched Ria sleeping in her bassinet, the more guilty Niall seemed. Harry thought it was hilarious and he had to reassure his mate. "I don't think Ria will remember this day let alone know who were with her in the delivery room."

"You're right." Niall breathed as his eyes fixated on the baby girl. "But if she ever asks, tell her uncle Niall was there."

"You're expecting me to lie to my baby girl?"

"Hey, I've lied to your other baby girl for you plenty of times before!" Niall stabbed a finger at Harry. "Remember that time you thought you had a whole ass child with another woman?!"

"Okay, let's not mention that while I'm looking at my actual child, alright?" Harry snorted, rolling his eyes.

They stood there in utter silence for a moment, and once again, Niall was the first to speak. "What was it like in there?" he asked.

Harry had been waiting for this question and he had been correct to assume that it would come from Niall. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he said, "I didn't faint, so it wasn't so bad. But after seeing a head coming out of your wife's vagina, you came out as a different man."

"Wow..." Niall nodded slowly. "That's deep."

The two managed to keep their serious faces for only two more seconds and they both cracked up like two teenage boys. Their laughter only died down when they heard footsteps coming their way and another man joined them in front of the massive window.

Harry didn't have the best memory and that had been proven right every time his wife scolded him for not taking out the trash. But all it took was one glance at this stranger and he knew instantly where and when they had met before.

"Excuse me," he spoke, grabbing the man's attention. "Sorry, you probably don't remember me but we've met before a couple of years ago."

"We have?" The stranger lifted both eyebrows in doubt.

"Yeah." Harry nodded fast. "You were here to see your baby girl and I was looking for a vending machine and got lost."

"Oh, the vending machine boy! Good to see ya!" the stranger exclaimed as he pulled Harry into an unexpected hug and backed away, raising an eyebrow. "So...you got lost again or—"

"No." Harry shook his head and pointed into the room. "That's my baby girl. Second row. First one on the right."

"Congratulations, mate!" The man cackled and patted Harry on the back.

He said his name was Daniel, and he was there because his brother's wife had just delivered a baby today. Harry and Niall also introduced themselves, and Harry told his new friend he had just thought about their conversation a few years back just a minute or two before Daniel arrived.

"I told you one day you'd be standing here again," he said, smiling from ear to ear.

Harry hadn't got a chance to reply when all of a sudden a notification popped up on his phone. He read the text and told Daniel, "sorry, mate. I gotta leave now."

"Your new problem?" The man didn't need to elaborate on that question for Harry already knew what he meant.

"Same one," he answered.

The smile on Daniel's face grew bigger as he said, "then you better not let your problem wait."

"Yeah." Harry chuckled nervously. "I hope she's not still mad at me for not being there when she went into labor."

"Mate, at least you showed up. My brother actually missed the birth of his child this morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?"

"He was cycling when he got the news and he went as fast as he could, then some rich bastard in a Range Rover almost ran him over!"

Harry went pallid instantly but Niall still hadn't caught on.

"Hey, Harry, you also drive a Range—"

"Let's go Niall! Y/N's waiting!"

Covering Niall's mouth with one hand, Harry waved goodbye to a confused Daniel and dragged his best friend out of there as fast as possible.

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.

(18 years later)

"Asteria Anne Styles! Go get your brother and come down here right now!"

Arms circled around Y/N's waist, Harry laughed as he pulled her back into the kitchen. "Baby, relax," he whispered while laying kisses on her neck and shoulder. "She just came home last night."

"You're the reason she's like this," she said and turned around to put her hand on his shoulders. "I know she's daddy's little girl, but can you be on my side for once?"

"I'm always on your side." He arched an eyebrow playfully. "Just let her have some more time with her phone, so we can...you know?"

A smirk tugged at his lips as he gently sank his teeth into her collarbone. She tossed her head back, her eyes squeezed shut when her bum pressed against the edge of the table. He heard her mumble something about the vase and looked up to make sure it was still sitting nicely on the tabletop. He had bought that vase as an apology gift when she came home after that day in the hospital. He still remembered how she had smiled and told him, "let's see how long it stays with us until you break it again."

Now, many years later, after they had moved into and out of their second flat, and then into this new mansion in North London after Jasper was born, it was still with them, as new as ever.

"It's okay, I'll buy you another if we break it," he growled into her ear, making her giggle and push him away.

"We're not breaking anything because we're not doing anything while the kids are home!"

"Hey, Mr. Styles! Mrs. Styles!"

"Lillie!" The couple jumped apart, eyes widened at the smiley girl standing at the door.

Flustered, Harry cleared his throat to ignore the fact that this eighteen-year-old might have seen him groping his wife's ass. Then with a smile, he said, "Lillie, you need to stop scaring us like that."

Lillie quickly apologized and sat down at the table with her chin on her knuckles, batting her eyelashes at Harry. The man quickly turned to his wife to ask for help, but she was too busy trying not to laugh to say anything.

Lillie was Ria's friend from college. Her family lived in Germany and Ria didn't want her to celebrate Christmas alone at the dorm so she'd brought her home. She was a nice girl and her little crush on Harry, which everybody knew, was completely harmless. Still, it made Harry quite uncomfortable even though both his wife and his daughter thought it was funny.

"Where's Ria, love?" Y/N asked the girl as Harry wrapped an arm around her.

With a slight frown, Lillie said, "she's on the phone."

"Is she still seeing that vampire kid?"

"Babe, you need to stop calling your daughter's boyfriend a vampire."

"He looks like one, okay? That bloke thinks he's so edgy with the stupid haircut and the eyeliners. Our Ria can do better."

"Erik isn't Ria's boyfriend, Mr. Styles." Lillie chuckled. "They were just messing around. I think he started to have feelings for her so she called it quit."

"That's my girl." Harry nodded proudly, only to have his wife swat him on the chest.

"You guys need to stop talking about me and leave the door open like that."

The three stiffened as they heard Ria's voice and their reaction made her cackle. She came to kiss her parents' cheeks and sat down at the table with her best friend.

While her younger brother looked and acted more like Y/N, Ria was almost a female version of her father when he was her age. If the famous last name hadn't given herself away, her brown curls, dimples and green eyes would let everyone know she was the daughter of one of the richest businessmen in the UK. But business wasn't Ria's strong suit. She was an art major student, leaving it all to her brother Jas to take over the CEO chair in the far future.

"You better put that phone away during dinner tonight, young lady," Y/N warned the girl who pouted but did exactly what she'd been told.

"Is aunt Layla coming over?" Ria's face brightened.

"Yes, she is." Y/N snorted. "If only you were that happy to see me."

"Aww, don't be jealous, mum. You're my real mum."

"Only because you didn't get to choose." Y/N rolled her eyes as her daughter hugged her neck and showered her face with kisses, what she'd always done since she was little.

While they were at the table waiting for Y/N to finish making the pie and Jasper to finish whatever he was doing in his room, Harry snapped his fingers to steal Ria's attention away from her phone.

"Who's the boy?" he asked.

"No one," she said and immediately turned her screen off. "You know me, dad. I don't do relationships."

That answer earned her a fist-bump with Harry but then he received a death glare from his wife.

"Do not encourage her, Harry!"

"What? I didn't say anything!" he said, giving Ria a wink when Y/N turned away.

A dimple popped up on her cheek as she went on, "I was actually on the phone with my neighbor."

"You had a two-hour conversation with your neighbor?" Y/N asked, and Lillie burst out laughing.

"I wouldn't say 'conversation', Mrs. Styles. They're always shouting at each other."

Harry and Y/N exchanged looks of confusion as Ria began to explain, "so this jerk just moved into the flat next to mine a week ago, and I swear to you he's the most obnoxious person you'd ever meet." She tucked a curl behind her ear and chuckled. "But before I came back home for the holiday, I'd stolen all of his mails to get back at him."

"He hacked and changed your wifi's password last week and you stole his mails?" Lillie covered her mouth and snickered as Ria gave her shoulder a push.

"I'm not a computer nerd, okay? Who the fuck—"

"Language!"

"Sorry, mum. Who the eff does that?! Can't he pay for his own wifi?!"

"He probably just thinks you're annoying."

Everyone turned to look at the sixteen-year-old boy standing by the door. Now it was clear what he'd been doing in his room for the last two hours. He walked in smelling like an entire cologne showroom, his usually messy curly hair was pushed back and he was wearing the red Christmas sweater grandma had given him last year.

"Oh, hello, Santa's favorite elf."

"Shut up, Ria."

"Jas." Y/N sighed. "Do not tell your sister to shut up. And Ria, please, do not make fun of your brother."

Jasper ignored Ria and merrily asked his parents, "when will aunt Layla and uncle Niall be here?"

"Oh, please, you don't care about them. You're just in love with their daughter."

"Shut up, Ria," the boy grumbled at his sister but his face had turned bright red.

Smiling, Harry kissed his son's forehead and told him, "they'll be here in about an hour, mate. And you look great in that sweater. Audrey will be very impressed."

Ria opened her mouth to make another remark but was interrupted by the loud pop song blasting from her phone. She released the longest sigh when she saw the caller ID. "It's him again. Excuse me."

She got up and walked to the door, but stopped right there to turn back to Harry and Y/N. "Stop looking at me like that. It's not the same."

"What's not the same?" Lillie asked once Ria was gone and Jasper groaned into his palms.

Harry ignored the boy and said, "my wife and I also hated each other a lot when we first met."

"Here we go again!"

"Dad, not again!"

Y/N shook her head as she turned back to the pie. Jas, on the other hand, stood up and headed straight to the door.

"Don't take too long, dad. The Horans will be here soon," he said before walking out.

Lillie had no idea what was going on, but everyone's reaction had got her intrigued.

"Wanna hear a story, Lillie?" Harry asked, and she nodded quickly. She hated stories, unless it was gossip, but she would say yes to anything that came out of his mouth.

"It all began when I rented a new place in London and needed to find a flatmate..."

(end of series)

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.     

NEW FICS COMING OUT IN DECEMBER!

❤︎ STAY MINE - the last book in the 'My Girl' Trilogy.

and a new series called...

❤︎ THE CONMAN AND THE MAID

~~~

I'd like to thank each and everyone who has supported this series from the start and stayed with me through all the ups and downs, and also everyone who has just recently discovered this series. I cannot believe this whole universe started out as a blurb request on Tumblr about fuckboy Harry taking care of his sick flatmate and now it's a trilogy. Our babies have come so far since 'Under The Weather'. It's all thanks to you! I'm very excited and looking forward to sharing my future stories with you guys!

I will post the official announcements for these fics in mid-November. Stay tuned!

Love, Allie.

#flatmate!harry

[audreysjensens-blog]

“amazing.” {audrey jensen imagine}

heyyy my babies!!! here’s something to tide you over before the next bi-curious and the virgin. if i get enough requests for a second part i’ll make it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tom Holland.  Bar none,” Noah said, leaning into the couch and shrugging his shoulders.  “Most accurate Spider-Man.”

It was just past ten o’clock at one of Brooke’s Halloween extravaganza parties, and clearly your group of friends was getting increasingly heated.  With open booze available on every surface and the closest people in your life around you, you had never felt safer or happier, giggling at Noah and Jake’s argument.

“But Tobey Maguire!” Jake cried, leaping up on the couch and almost crushing Brooke under his sneakers.  “Tobey.  Maguire.  He’s the original!”

“Canon-wise, he blows!”

“Take it back!”

“Guys!” Audrey yelled, halfway between laughing so hard she was snorting and supreme annoyance.  She feigned waving her arms in an attempt to get them to calm down, but then finished with a, “What about Andrew Garfield?”

You tipped your head back and snorted as Jake and Noah leapt back into action, missing Audrey’s initial look back to you.  You missed the beginning of her staring, tracing along the column of your neck, wondering what would happen if she got her lips on it.

But you did catch the end of it.  Your eyes locked, she turned away with a timid laugh, and your blush started to overtake your face.  Of course, you were assuming you were overthinking it, and she was probably just seeing some sort of piece of string from your clothes on your collarbone.  Audrey, on the other hand, was kicking herself for her leering; just because she sometimes liked to look at you didn’t make you anything other than straight, which was what she presumed, and falling for a straight girl was precisely at the bottom of her list.

Emma, sensing obvious tension between you and Audrey, cleared her throat loudly to get all of the attention on her.  “Everyone.  It cannot be a party without some classic party games, which is why I have…” she reached into her pocket, producing a silver coin.

“This.”

Immediately, hoots and hollers erupted from the crowd, and you leaned into the circle, crossing your legs and preparing for the game to begin.  Audrey, on the other hand, started to lean back and raised her hand weakly.  “How does this work?” she said, looking more to you than Emma.

“Okay,” you said, blushing again at the prospect of being so close to Audrey’s ear in the loud room.  “So, one person whispers a question to the other, and the answerer says their answer out of context to the group out loud.  Then someone flips the coin.  If it’s heads, the person who asked the question gets to say it out loud, which kind of lets up the secret behind the person’s answer.”

“Ah, I get it,” Audrey said, tapping you on the shoulder in thanks.  “Thanks.”

You tilted your chin in a you’re welcome motion, moving to settle back in your spot next to Emma, when Audrey looked at you again, and you got so caught up in her eyes, and her cheekbones, and the way her hair swooped over her forehead, and God, her lips-

“Y/N?” You realized that you’d completely been sitting in silence, missing her question.

“Sorry, sorry, just zoned out for a second,” you mumbled, internally kicking yourself at your momentary check-out of one of your friends.  God, she probably wasn’t even interested, you thought to yourself.  Just because someone might be into girls doesn’t mean they’re into you.

“It’s okay, relax,” Audrey giggled, leaning back onto her spot with Noah.  “I just- your face is kinda red.  You okay?” she asked, gesturing to her general visage.

Oh.  Fuck.  She noticed.

“I’m fine!” you spluttered out, a little too fast to be perfectly plausible.  “I, just, uh.  Drinking does that,” you said, despite the fact that your obviously full cup cancelled out that statement.  What you meant to say was you do that.  You make me blush like crazy and I look like a red mess.  It’s all because of you.

“Okay!” Emma yelled out, making everyone in the immediate vicinity quit their conversations and join the circle, turned towards Emma and waiting for her to make the prime first move.

At first, you thought that she was turning towards Brooke on her other side, giving you enough time to prepare yourself, but then she was turning towards you, whispering the first question into your ear.  In turning to her to focus on what she was saying, you missed Noah’s insignificant slap on Audrey’s arm and his whispered, “Jealous?”

“Alright,” Emma whispered, still giggling.  “How long has it been since… You kissed someone? And did you like it or not?”

You didn’t want to answer that.  Especially in front of Audrey- She probably thought you were another one of those useless straight girls.  You weren’t completely out, but you weren’t straight, either.

You looked across the circle, and, seeing Noah whispering into Audrey’s ear and her giving him a half-playful half-angry slap, decided Fuck it.

“Four years.  And no, I didn’t,” you announced proudly to the circle, a second before your embarrassment rushed in and you pulled your jacket higher up your neck to cover the splotchy blush.

Everyone leaned in as Emma slowly went to flip the coin, you praying to every god you knew to please, please let this answer remain unknown, I didn’t think it through, when the coin came flying back down.

Heads.  Up.

Fuck.

“The question was, when was the last time you kissed someone, and did you enjoy it!” Emma shouted cheerfully, and as the crowd put the pieces together, laughter and cheers for you rung throughout the room.  Panicking and not really sure what to do, you started to bring your drink to your lips, only to have the cup slosh all over the front of your jacket.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, sure that your face was preparing to get even more supremely flushed.  Standing up, you raced upstairs and into Emma’s room and, realizing you forgot a towel, walked into the bathroom.

You started running the water, dunking the towel under and trying to get the stain out before it set, and trying to get your heart under control.  You hadn’t even looked up to see what Audrey looked like, let alone if she reacted at all to your running aw-

“Y/N?”

Instantaneously, the voice coming from right behind you shocked you into dunking your sleeve-covered arm under the faucet.  Turning around, you were met with the wide and regretful (but, as you could attest to, attentive) eyes of Audrey Jensen.

“I’m so sorry! Oh my God,” Audrey mumbled, reaching behind her to grab another towel.  “I’m so, so sorry.  That’s my bad-“

“Audrey.  It’s okay,” you said, half-sighing and half-laughing as you started to shrug off your jacket, masking your nervousness around Audrey with the ruined coat.  “I’ll just leave it here until I leave.  It’s too damp to wear.”

You started to pull your jacket off of your shoulders, revealing your crop top underneath and accidentally exposing your midriff, which, she would also claim accidentally, Audrey was completely transfixed with, pulling her eyes up only when she realized you were turning around.

Hanging up the jacket on the outside of the door, Audrey and you both stepped out of the bathroom and onto the landing above the stairs, leaning against it and hearing the muffled music blare in from downstairs.  You could feel Audrey’s eyes on you in the half-darkness, and before she could, you spoke.

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” you said, looking over the railing.

“It’s no problem,” she said, turning so that her back was pressed against the metal rail, trying her hardest to make her voice come out even at the proximity to you.

There was a tepid silence between you two again, when you spoke up.

“Four years is a long time,” you said, letting out a low whistle.  “I can’t believe I admitted that.  I should’ve lied.”

Audrey turned to you then, concern written over all of her features, and placed a hand on your arm.  You stared, almost bug-eyed at the warmth and contact, when you realized that she was still speaking.  Damn it, Y/L/N, you thought to yourself.  You really so touch starved you won’t listen to your friend?

“Hey, at least the truth is out there,” she said, laughing.  “Although, I’ve got to say I’m kind of surprised.  A lot of people talk about you.”  Like me, to Noah, she thought, but definitely was going to keep to herself.

“If it’s guys, I don’t exactly care anymore,” you said, leaning over the banister and letting out another long, long sigh.  You didn’t care enough to really keep it a secret anymore; your parents knew, and so did Emma and Brooke.  Audrey might as well, even being someone who was into girls and wasn’t ashamed of it.

Audrey froze, feeling time almost move in slow motion as she looked over at you, confusion painted on your face.  “You’re…”

“Not straight?  No,” you stated, tossing your hands up in the air.  “Technically, that kind of prevents my first kiss from being valid.”

Again, Audrey felt between freaking out in ecstasy and elation and empathy.  It was tough to come out to anyone, she knew, remembering back to when she told her father.  And to have never kissed anyone you felt anything for?  She couldn’t imagine.

“Well,” she said, leaning down and taking your hand, at which you felt close to blacking out.  “Thanks for… You know.  Telling me.  It’s not easy.”

“Thanks,” you whispered dizzily, leaning most of your weight on the balcony again.

In a blinding second, an idea occurred to Audrey; Was it crazy? Yes.  Was it absolutely batshit insane?  Yes.  Yes.

But did she want to? Yes.

“Look,” Audrey said, removing her hand from yours and crossing it over your chest.  Her voice was close to wavering, her trying her hardest to keep it at a steady and confident level. “I know that neither of us really drink, besides what your jacket soaked up tonight, so I wouldn’t be offering if we had.  But, if you want to experience your first ever gay kiss, I’d be completely down.”

You whipped over to her, trying as you might to maintain your composure.  Did she just… You were keeping your hands from shaking and easily saying yes, yes, please.

Looking up at her, you made the decision before your brain could catch up with your mouth.

“Let’s do it.”

Audrey, for one, was completely blown away at the literal second it took you to answer.  And, before she could really think it through, she took your hand, said “Follow me,” and led you into Brooke’s guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her with her foot.  At the loud bang, you sat back on the bed and giggled, looking up through your hand at the girl you were definitely going to make out with.

Audrey walked over and sat next to you, and the panic set in you again.  To squash it, you leaned over and looped your arms around Audrey’s neck, slinging your leg over hers and effectively straddling her waist on the bed.

“Is this how we’re gonna do this?” you said, worried at her momentary lack of response.

“Yes, yes, sorry,” she said, her arms snaking around and settling on your waist, causing your blush to creep back in and return.  “You just… surprised me is all.”

“Well, get used to it,” you mumbled out nervously, voice cracking all the way at the close distance you were from her.  You weren’t expecting much; maybe another a speech about how it was okay to be gay, but all you really wanted was-

“Maybe I will,” came Audrey’s confident voice, her deep blue eyes sinking into yours as she leaned in and started pressing kisses to your neck.  You lost eye contact the second that you involuntarily let your head fall back, leaning in and so responsive to her touch that a warm feeling started to rise up in your stomach.

You got lost in the moment, your hands rushing up and running your fingers through her short, dark hair as she started to focus in on a spot on your neck that made you shiver.  It felt-

“Amazing,” you moaned breathily, involuntarily snapping back to yourself and bringing a hand back to cover your mouth.  Audrey, on the other hand, caught it before it could reach your lips and placed it back on the back of her neck.

“It’s okay to touch me,” she whispered to you.  “It’s okay… And don’t think I don’t wanna hear you.  It’s hot.”

Hearing her say that was something else; you felt your blush rise back up into your chest, and she watched as your eyes flicked back up to hers, half-smile glowing in the dim lights.  “I’ve always thought your blush was cute,” she mumbled, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.  “Never thought I’d see it up close though.  It’s even better.”

She slowly reached down and started pressing her lips to your collarbone, your neck column, the underside of your jaw, the sensitive place behind your ear…

Then she stopped, and your eyes fluttered back open to find her inches away from your lips.  You were suddenly so aware of where you were; straddling Audrey, your thighs on either side of her legs and her hands on your exposed midriff, when she leaned in.

And everything faded away.

It started slow, but with no lack of intensity.  You brought your hand up to cup her face, pressing your lips to hers again and again and again, that swooping feeling returning in your stomach.  All that you knew was that you had to be close to her, pressing your chest to hers and sighing as she slowly sucked your bottom lip into her mouth.

Before you even realized you were doing it, you were fiddling with the buttons on her shirt, undoing the first two before she pulled back.

“Is this okay with you?” she said, starting to unbutton them herself, when you stopped her hands.

“More than okay.”

She grinned back into the kiss, shifting your face from side to side as her kisses got more languid and long, hands moving all over your body as you finally finished the column of buttons on her shirt and slid it off of her shoulders.  She took the lead from you then, never breaking the kiss, but tossing her shirt to the floor, giving you an incredible look at her toned arms and exposed collarbones.

You spent a second admiring the view in front of you before you both started up again, you leaning down and, with a little help from Audrey, pulling off your tank top to leave you both in just your bras.

Skin to skin felt unnameable; as Audrey laid you down and your tongue lightly swept into her mouth, you felt her lower back get warmer as she emitted a low whine.  Unable to keep yourself from smiling, you leaned in again and matched her grin as you both started to ramp up.  Her hands were on your face and under your skirt and yours were tracing a patch of skin on her back that she really, really seemed to like, going off what sounds she made when you traced your fingers over it.

Lost in the frantic touching and heated kisses, Audrey flipped you two over so that your back was on the bed, then dipped her hand under your thigh to sling your leg over the back of her so there was no place the two of you weren’t touching.  Your mouths got more and more fervent at the same pace as your hands, her tongue sweeping into your mouth with your happily granted access, and one of her legs, between yours, moved up and brushed against you; you didn’t know if it was intentional, but it was surprising in the best way, and you involuntarily let out a loud moan, and-

“Audrey?  Where are you?” came a voice accompanied by a loud bang of the door again, revealing Noah standing in the doorway.  You quickly scrambled away from Audrey and grabbed a pillow to cover your exposed chest as he spluttered out an apology, panic-stricken and practically sprinting back out the door.

When the coast was clear and Noah-free, you realized that Audrey’s hand was still on your thigh, and you smiled, looking up at her as you both broke into giggles.

When that subsided, she spoke again, almost as if not to spook you.

“So…”

“Yeah,” you responded, fiddling with the throw pillow in front of your chest.  “That was… Something.”

A silence fell between you again, before she spoke up.

“You know, if you’d ever like to do this again, maybe we could… I don’t know.  Go out or something before?”

Your heart rushed with fondness at the girl in front of you, face so hopeful and, at the same time, a little scared, that your answer seemed to almost fall out of your mouth.

“I’d love that.”

#audrey jensen #audrey jensen x reader #audrey jensen imagine #audrey jensen imagines #scream mtv #scream fic

[kootenaygoon]

So,

June stood sentinel in her driveway wearing a snowboard jacket, hood up, while her lacy white nightgown swirled around her bare legs. My headlights splashed her looming silhouette against the front of the house, and she shielded her face with one hand as I killed the engine. It was somewhere around 2 a.m., and the street was ominously quiet as I gave Muppet a few reassuring pets. Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long — I wasn’t sure what to expect inside. Blayne had texted me in a panic, saying there was some coked up dude terrorizing her, but she was very specific that she didn’t want me to call the police. I’d dealt with enough conflict in my decade as a lifeguard that I was fairly confident I could sort this out. Though I’d never been much of a fighter, my hippo-like build was known to make smaller men wilt in my presence. My pulse throbbed in my throat, and I took a few deep breaths before opening my door.

“This is the second time this has happened with this fucking asshole,” June said, as I clumped up the driveway in my snow boots.

“Tell your friend she has shitty taste in men.”

I sighed. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“All I know is I was trying to sleep like a normal person and all of a sudden this psycho’s screaming and breaking shit downstairs.”

“Is Blayne okay?”

“Well, she locked herself in the bathroom. I don’t know, beyond that.”

Over the winter months I’d had plenty of opportunities to contemplate the nuances and realities of the mental health crisis. It wasn’t just about the homeless and marginalized; the issue was disturbingly present everywhere. There was a culture of substance abuse in the Kootenays, of excess, and the consequences of that were obvious to anyone paying attention. One woman had come into the Star office with her iPhone-wielding kid in tow to share the story of her husband’s suicide — a subject that was typically verboten in the journalism world. She took me through their 13-year marriage and described a violent downward spiral caused by alcoholism. I eventually turned her story into a column called “One Story of Desperation”.

But it’s one thing to understand these things on a philosophical level, another thing entirely to stare it straight in the face. I stood with June for a few moments, procrastinating, while I imagined the various ways the next few minutes could go. Did this dude have a weapon? Was he looking for a fight? Or would he retreat, embarrassed, when confronted? Blayne had told me his name, but I didn’t recognize it. I didn’t know how old he was, what he looked like, nothing.

“So you’re going in there?”

I took a deep inhale through my nostrils. “Yeah, you’ve got your phone ready? You should wait upstairs. It’s freezing out here.”

“Fuck that. If you’re not out in a couple minutes, I’m calling the cops.”

She turned and walked into her carport, then returned with a red crowbar. She pressed it into my hands with a solemn nod. It was probably overkill, but the cold metal buoyed my courage. I made my way around the side of the house, which had a motion-sensor light that illuminated the snowy walkway that wound around to the backyard. Rock music rattled the windows as I approached Blayne’s door, June following close behind. For a moment I saw us as if we were in a movie scene, ridiculous with our fear. What the hell was I going to do with a crowbar? I felt like Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction, right before he samurai sworded that rapist to death. 

I pushed open the front door with my foot, and the volume of the music became almost deafening — the current track was “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga.  I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas plays. Fold 'em, let 'em, hit me, raise it baby stay with me. The kitchen was deserted, with a few plates stacked next to the sink, then there were some empty beer bottles and a half-full 2-6 of vodka laying on its side. I inched across the tile to the entrance of the living room, beads of sweat collecting in my hairline.

“Who the fuck is this?”

The guy was perfectly framed in the doorway, surrounded by his destruction. Blayne’s coffee table was upside down, a bookshelf was laying on the couch, and he was standing in broken glass. He was young, maybe early 20s, and still had acne dotting his cheeks. The dark circles around his eyes made him look like a drugged-up raccoon. He was pacing in a small circle, sniffling and dragging his hands over his close-shaved mohawk.

“Is this your other boyfriend? Blayne? Who the fuck is this?” he yelled through the bathroom door, which had two or three splintery punch-marks in its paneling. 

“You cheating on me with this goof?”

I stepped into the room, letting him see the crowbar, and raised my hand in a reconciliatory, reassuring gesture. I spoke to him in the same tone of voice you might use on a feral animal. I told him I was just a friend, here to make sure Blayne was safe, and I didn’t mean any disrespect. I asked him if we could just take this whole thing down a couple notches.

That’s when he charged. 

The music was still going hard: Can't read my, can't read my, no, he can't read my poker face. He took me by the shoulders and we began to spin, awkwardly dancing with our hands on each others’ shoulders. Baby when it’s love if it’s not rough it isn’t fun. I felt the glass crunch, felt my balance go, and then we were tumbling together towards the overturned coffee table. I watched as one of the legs speared into the guy’s lower back, snapping off with the impact, and he screamed out. Somewhere along the way I’d dropped the crowbar. I struggled back to my feet as he writhed on the ground, swearing.

“Listen dude, we don’t need to fight. You just need to get the hell out of here, okay?” I said. 

“The landlord’s outside ready to call the cops.”

I watched a series of emotions cross this guy’s face, as he gazed angrily up at the ceiling. He groaned and sat up, glass tinkling off his back, and for a moment it looked like he was going to cry. He gave an exhausted shake of his head, sniffling some more, then glanced over to where I was standing, in the doorway, taking in gulping lungfuls of air. He looked confused.

“You’re the guy from the newspaper,” he said.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Blayne, but you need to go home and sober up. You’re not in control of yourself.”

He nodded, suddenly remorseful. “I love her so much. She just drives me crazy, you know?”

I nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Eventually I escorted him out of the house, to where June was still waiting in the cold. She flew up into the guy’s face, emboldened by my presence, and demanded to know if he’d hurt Blayne. She berated him, telling him to never come back, then he apologized under his breath and trudged down the driveway into the darkness. I debriefed with June for a moment, then headed back inside to find Blayne. She was already out of the bathroom, surveying the damage to her living room, wearing only a black sports bra and a high-waisted skirt that showed off the bear tattooed on her thigh. When she saw me she began to cry, apologizing profusely.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” I told her, noticing a small line of blood trickling from her nose. I grabbed her a Kleenex. 

“Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head no, told me she’d successfully hidden in the bathroom through the entire encounter. She explained they’d been partying at Spiritbar, with a bunch of their friends, but afterwards he’d accused her of flirting with other men. She tried to argue that they were non-exclusive, and that she could talk to whoever she liked, and that’s when he went batshit. 

“Dude’s a piece of shit,” I said. “You’re going to break it off with him?”

“Yeah, I guess I have to.”

Right then I remembered that Muppet was still in the cold car, outside. It had been at least twenty minutes. I was scheduled to work in the morning, and could already tell I wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. Blayne walked me to the door and thanked me again, then I headed downhill the two blocks to my house. I wondered how many scenes like that were occurring behind closed doors in the community. I wanted to hate the volatile kid, to feel tribal solidarity with Blayne, but instead I found myself pitying him. Here was a guy who didn’t know how to properly express his emotions, who clearly had some sort of drug problem, and was he really responsible for his actions? You could make excuses for anybody, really, so where did moral judgement come in? When did empathy end and condemnation begin? Was violence the line?

Whatever the answer, I knew I didn’t want to worry Paisley with all this drama. I’d successfully sneaked out of the house without waking her, and now there was no need to fill her in. As far as I was concerned, some stories were better left untold. 

The Kootenay Goon

[automatismoateo]

In response to a question in a recent thread where someone asked me to go in-depth, here's a description of my experience in Education and teaching Science in Arkansas and why I finally quit. via /r/atheism

Submitted July 11, 2021 at 11:22PM by paxinfernum (Via reddit https://ift.tt/3ALPxPr) In response to a question in a recent thread where someone asked me to go in-depth, here's a description of my experience in Education and teaching Science in Arkansas and why I finally quit.

The only thing that matters

Here's something you need to understand first. In most rural districts, pretty much any idiot can get hired to a position and stay there as long as they don't piss off parents too much. The people hiring you don't really understand what you teach, and the parents don't understand or care what quality teaching is, but they care if you say something that offends their backward sensibilities. What that effectively means is that your ability to teach and stay on has more to do with being in sync with the community, who are usually racist and batshit paranoid. If you aren't in sync with that, you either have to keep your head down, or you will eventually get harassed into leaving due to vague complaints.

Abusive parenting is normal here

Okay. So starting with my student teaching. The woman I worked under was a total fucking psychopath. She bragged in the teachers' lounge about how she disciplined her daughter and people don't discipline their kids like that now. By discipline, I mean she told a story about how she chased her daughter down a hallway, dragged her by the hair of her head, and spanked her until she was raw. This was part of a story where she was bragging about how well behaved her daughter was due to her parenting.

If you're wondering if anyone pushed back against this, the answer is that they didn't. They were nodding their heads in affirmation. That's the problem with rural schools in a nutshell. The community hires from the community, and the community is backward as shit and filled with people who were raised in abusive conservative fundie homes. The parents, by the way, loved that teacher because she wasn't one of those soft "liberal" teachers. Parents, more than anyone else, wanted us to hit their kids and were always disappointed when they didn't get spanked. Child abuse is a way of life down here.

Teachers who are fearful of knowledge

Okay, so this woman was a science teacher. That's what I trained to teach. Science. I did so because I wasn't just one of those "science is awesome" Sagan-heads. I genuinely cared about teaching science as more than just fun facts, but as a methodology for uncovering the truth. I naively went into the field thinking that's what most science teachers would be like. I kind of hoped that I'd at least find a community of like-minded individuals in this ignorant state.

Over my entire teaching career, I literally never met another science teacher like me who was pro-science and pro-skepticism. They were overwhelmingly either just dumb and teaching rotely, or they were conspiratorial and fearful of science. This is exactly what an Arkansas school board wants out of a science teacher. They know they have to teach science, but they are afraid of science and see it as the most dangerous subject to teach in their little fundagelical minds. So they hire people who are afraid of science.

That crazy woman I trained under? She ranted about drones being used to spy on us. She told the kids GMOs were dangerous, and she told them homeopathic medicines were something she'd researched to help her friend with cancer. She wasn't unique in that regard. Every other science teacher I met in Arkansas was terrified of GMOs and had some conspiracy they wanted to rant about. One teacher's bugaboo was allergies and how he thought more people were getting allergies because of chemicals being put in the water. He brushed it off when I said it was probably due to more sensitive testing. Another teacher told their students the most horrendous and completely inaccurate facts about nuclear energy.

They're not sending us their best people

The point is these people weren't the best and brightest. Often, they weren't even adequate. One guy I worked with became a science teacher because he needed something to teach alongside coaching. He was dumb as a box of rocks and just barely passed his praxis exams after three tries. I know most people weren't going to ace these tests like I did, but the cutoff for a passing score in Arkansas is hilariously low. Yet, when he finally passed, it was only by a single point, and he recounted it to me like it was only by the grace of god.

Another teacher, a math teacher who was probably the worst speller I'd ever met, got certified in Texas, which has a lower standard for math, and he transferred his certification to Arkansas. So he only was able to teach math in Arkansas on a technicality. The way it works is that you only have to be recertified if you let your certification lapse. All that's required to recertify is doing 30 hours of PD per year, and then, every couple of years, you have to do the recertification process. But this idiot was too stupid to do that, and he let his certification expire. So then, he was teaching math without a license because he couldn't pass the Arkansas tests. (You're allowed to teach for so long as long as you're pursuing certification.)

Propaganda and Indoctrination

Half of the teachers I met might as well have been missionaries. It's illegal to push your religion or politics on students, but fuck if anyone will actually enforce that. Actually, let me step back there. Fuck if anyone will actually enforce that unless you're liberal or non-Christian. The state is an unofficial conservative theocracy so if the teacher wants to rant about gays or Jesus, there's very little chance any parent will even bother to complain. (Even liberals around here know they're outnumbered and won't win.) Even if the parent complains to the Principal, they'll only "have a word" with the teacher in question, most likely to have a chummy conversation where they eye roll about the parent and discuss ways they can continue to evangelize more subtly.

Even if the Principal is the type who takes this seriously, the teacher will only get a vague note in their file because no school board around here is going to fire a teacher for proselytizing children. They don't want the school to get burned down by an angry mob of Fox News zombies. Even if it makes it to the state ethics board, I've seen the state ethics board literally do nothing about a counselor who ignored a suicidal student, a teacher who was caught drunk driving, a superintendent who was manipulating the system to siphon more money into the school, and so many other things. The only thing the ethics board actually takes a license away for is cheating on standardized testing (got to keep our corporate donors happy) and actually fucking a student. Even if you bring a teacher up on proselytizing, they'll get a warning and be back in the classroom the next day.

So if you're a kid in a rural school, get ready for your teacher to unsubtly tell you about how Jesus is such an important part of their life or straight-up rant about the Democrats. When I was a student in Arkansas schools, I had teachers tell me: 1) All gay people should be thrown in prison 2) HIV-positive patients should be shipped to an island or burned (it was the 90s) 3) the Jews brought the holocaust on to themselves by rejecting Jesus 4) the teacher was boycotting Levis jeans because they supported gay people. That's just a sampling of shit I heard as a kid in Arkansas from freaking teachers.

While working as a teacher, I knew of teachers who latched onto kids with poor home lives and invited them over to their homes so they could do "prayer studies" with them. The kids went because they were kind to them and offered food. In case you're wondering, they got away with this because it was a husband and wife, so parents allowed it. (I'm just going to say that I'm actually quite certain this was entirely above board sex-wise. I knew the individuals, and while I despised what they were doing, I knew they were entirely sincere.)

Another teacher, a Trump supporter, went into a rant about how they needed to give all the teachers guns to fight off school shooters (because restricting guns in any way was tOtAlItArIaNiSm.) I nodded along because I was smart enough to know disagreeing publicly will get you shunned or harassed. All I could think in my head was "Dude, if they ever give you nutters guns, that's the day I quit. There will be 10 dead kids within a week." On that topic, one teacher I know of grabbed a student by the throat because they were pissed at them, and they didn't lose their job.

The history teacher, the one who wanted us to all have guns was teaching that the Civil War was about tariffs. You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen. Hundreds of thousands of people went to war over tariffs that were at their lowest point in decades. It had nothing to do with the people they owned and shackled up like a Saw movie. The Civics teacher pushed Trump election conspiracies.

Another teacher, who had a family member who had a terminal illness and was literally only getting their medical treatment paid through Obamacare would go off on rants about Obama and transgender students.

Harassment

At one point, I was harassed by the campus cop. He found out I was in support of BLM, and literally screamed at me. Later, he transitioned to simply refusing to acknowledge my existence. Like, if I said anything to him, he would pretend he couldn't hear me. The dude was fucking insane and filled with hate. I'm pretty sure his domestic situation with his wife was abusive due to things he said. He was so angry and radicalized that it was never the students I worried would be a mass shooter. It was him. I was literally afraid he would come in one day and shoot the place up. He wasn't an oddity though. Every one of our resource officers was racist and unethical. One was running a vaping ring with students. Another took special joy in cracking down on Latino students.

Eventually, I started getting harassment from students though, and that's what led to me leaving. There are two things that led to increasing harassment. First, I had one conservative student who hated me and surmised that I must be a Clinton supporter. I never said that, but because I was one of the few teachers who didn't violate the rules about discussing religion or politics, they guess that I was a liberal atheist. So they started working to get me fired.

The second thing is that the Arkansas standards changed so that teaching evolution became part of my classroom standards. Just so you know, most schools in Arkansas don't actually teach evolution, even though they're supposed to. The way it works is teachers put it last on their things to teach, and oopsie, I just ran out of time at the end of the year. Some teachers know evolution is real, but they don't teach it because the backlash is too much to take. Others don't teach it because they're fundagelicals themselves, so they go along with the informal conspiracy to not teach evolution. I say informal conspiracy because it's not like they all get together in a back room and decide this. It's just the culture and incentives are all there to not teach it.

I actually taught evolution, and while I had always dealt with some degree of negativity, looking back, I have to say that was the point where I started getting a lot more. I can't emphasize enough how brainwashed these kids were. I'm not saying all of them because there were absolutely kids who believed in evolution, but they were in a minority and knew to keep their mouths shut. But it's sort of staggering to try to teach the history of the Earth and have a kid repeatedly try to prove to you that there was a global flood.

How harassment actually works in the real world

This is the thing I want people to understand. Harassment in the real world isn't usually as obvious as in a movie. No one drives by your house and throws a brick through your window. No one calls you up and leaves threatening messages. No one will ever fire you for being liberal or an atheist. Because these people are dumb as fuck, but they're also very clever at being shitty people. They know they can't walk up and say to the school board, "Fire so and so because they're teaching evolution." They know that's illegal technically.

So they just start making up vague complaints. Principals, even ones who were supportive like my last Principal, are reactive. If a parent comes to them to complain about a teacher, they're going to assume the teacher did something wrong and needs to be talked to. So the girl who found out I was a Hillary Clinton supporter suddenly decided I "made her uncomfortable" and "looked her weird." The great thing about these types of innuendos and character assaults is that you don't have to provide any real facts. It's all about how you just don't like that person. Remember that teachers are one of the few professions where you can actually be fired simply because the community doesn't like you.

So that fell flat because, like I said, my Principal was actually decent and understood how flimsy that was. So then, that girls boyfriend made a complaint about how I'd yelled at him in front of all the students. Unfortunately for him, this supposed incident happened while we were in a part of the school with cameras so it was obviously bullshit. However, parents calling in upset is still a big deal so I was told that I should try to be nicer to him in the future and win the parents over.

The point is that it's basically death by a thousand cuts from little gripes and exaggerated concerns. Another student flat-out lied and said I cussed them out in class. I know that some of this was actually instigated by a staff member who didn't like me. So they encourage students to complain about me. At one point, I know they actually set up a kid's parents to lodge a complaint against me. I know this because the language of the complaint was obviously written by them, and when I was having the parent conference, they actually stayed behind work (something they never did) and didn't leave our adjoining rooms until it was over. They apparently wanted to listen in and see how it went. This conservative teacher at various times: told me the wrong place for a meeting, got kids to say they would show up for an after school event and then not show up, convinced an entire group of students to quit a club I was sponsoring, spread rumors about me to parents.

I'm done

The final straw was covid. I tried to stick it out, but the day a kid told me he wasn't going to wear a mask because "Biden isn't the real President" was the point where I decided I was done. This came from teachers too. The biology teacher wore a mask below their nose. The staff refused to stop having potlucks throughout the entire pandemic. Some people can't be saved.

edit: I forgot to mention the English teacher I met while I was doing my student-teacher training. She was forcing her class to write essays on how Obama wasn't a real US Citizen. All throughout my teacher program, I'd been told over and over that you could get fired for talking politics in the classroom, and this bitch was literally forcing kids to write essays about how Obama was a secret Muslim. And nothing was done about it. She could get away with it because Arkansas is so white and racist. To put it into context, the county she was teaching in was 94% white and voted for Trump by 78% in 2020.

#reddit

[watchmebcrn-blog]

Blip // Tom Holland Fiction

~

Warnings; Anger, angst, drinking problem, swearing

Summary; How could he say such a thing? You love him but, hell, that was cold. Forgiveness is a concept and you’re not sure if you believe in it yet.

Word count; A lovely 1.7k

~

“Please, don’t do this. I didn’t mean to say that.” 

You stood your guard, clenching your jaw until your teeth hurt - tears stinging your eyes and dropping down your soft skin. 

“You’ve said enough, Tom. You’ve said more than enough.” You spat, turning around and walking out of the door - pulling it to a close behind you. Your eyebrows were arched in complete anger and frustration as you rushed down the apartment staircase and onto the bustling streets - the wind and temperature hitting you in the face like a slap. You didn’t even hold back as tears poured down from your eyes, blurring your vision as you took the twenty minute walk home - no money for a taxi or a bus. Your boyfriend’s, maybe ex-boyfriend’s, words replayed in your mind. 

For fuck sake, Y/N! If only you could be care-free like Zendaya. 

You bit your bottom lip in anger and upset. Tom was a boy you didn’t want to lose but being compared to someone, especially his ex-girlfriend, made your insecurities even more known to yourself. People stared at you as you charged past them in a state of which your skin was blotchy and becoming wetter. The typical Saturday night drunks stumbled, some commenting on you and how your figure looked particularly nice in your dress. “Not the time.” You hissed in response. 

You reached your apartment building after twenty minutes of painful walking - your chest tightening from the various sobs you’d let out on the way home. Your heels clicked on the steps up to your door as your unlocked it quickly and slammed it so loud it sounded like it would’ve woken up the whole apartment building. 

Your bedroom was neat: bed made and everything in perfect order. However, a few of Tom’s things littered the room - colognes, clothing, shoes and a pair of sunglasses. Fuck, you thought, maybe if I just shoved them into one corner of the room I can get anger out. So you commenced the massive rampage. Your hands grabbed his clothes, throwing them aggressively into a corner - cushioning the fall off his glass cologne bottles and sunglasses because, no matter how much you hated him right now, you still loved him and didn’t want to wreck his belongings. You collapsed onto your bed and curled up, ready to sleep in your dress - you were exhausted - until you heard three knocks at your door. You knew. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

You stood up, debating whether to answer but the knocking became rapid and hard - angry. Why the fuck is he angry? He did this. You groaned and shuffled towards the dark-maple door, unhooking the chain and turning the handle. 

Before you was a dismantled Tom. His brown curls were tangled and flopping, annoyingly on your behalf, attractively on his head. His dark eyes rumbled anger yet were accompanied by bright lines of red which signified his upset. He’d been crying. Tom hadn’t even put on a jacket, he’d just gotten here as soon as he could. The cold didn’t affect him - not when he was determined to do something. Nothing stopped the great Tom Holland. Nevertheless, your anger overcame you and you frowned greatly at him. 

“What?” You spat. 

“I’m sorry." “Hm, say it again… I don’t think I heard it the first time you know.” 

“Listen, Y/N, I’m really fucking sorry. Fuck. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“You don’t mean to say a lot of things but you sure fucking do.” 

Silence. Silence that was so evident it felt like a bullet through the chest. Yet a satisfactory one. A bullet you had shot on your own accord on purpose. Tom grumbled and pushed past you, b-lining for the kitchen to get a bottle of whiskey he’d kept there for when he was over. You sighed, closing the door and chasing after him - ready to beg. Your dress was hugging your figure slightly which made Tom angrier - angrier that he didn’t have you right now - but you completely disregarded it. 

“Don’t.” You commanded, walking up to him and attempting to snatch the bottle from his muscular hands which were, inevitably, supported by his muscular arms. “You’ll regret it.” Memories flashed back of when Tom would drink all evening - letting it cascade down his throat, a lengthy (and loud) gulp following after. Him getting either sad, angered, horny or sleepy. Each memory seemed bad; the way he’d just get lost and transform into a completely different person. You couldn’t bare to see him like that again. Especially when you were the cause. “Stop.” He began unscrewing the, already half-empty, bottle. “Tom, stop!” He threw the cap at the wall, hard - ignoring everything you were saying until it clicked. You knew what would make him stop. “Tom! Please! For me.” 

He stopped. 

Tom placed the bottle on the counter, jumping off the stool sheepishly to get the cap. He hadn’t even spoken since he’d bombarded his way inside. Nothing. Although you knew how he worked; you knew how to get him to work. After a minute of tracing the eccentric label of the whiskey - indicating it was expensive - he let out a lengthy sigh. 

“I shouldn’t waste this stuff anyways. Costs a lot.” He exhaled and placed the whiskey back where it belonged. Tom fixated his gaze on you. “I want you to listen to me. Listen to me.” You nodded, looking up and down and at him. You didn’t know where to look, really. “I didn’t mean to say it, Y/N. I promise you that you’re better than Z in more ways than one. Although she’s a nice girl - you’re you and irreplaceable. Y/N, trust me when I tell you I love you and I said that out of pure anger. You’re perfect. I don’t want you to be like Zendaya; I want you to be you. You’re irreplaceable.” He anticipated your reaction but you didn’t know what to do. You frowned but it wasn’t angry, it was more upset. 

“I, uh, don’t know what to say.” You stammered, hopping onto the stool and resting your head on your hand which was propped up on your elbow. “Tom, I love you - I do, so much. It just hurt so much being compared to somebody. It made me think that you still loved her; more than me. That you wanted her or wanted me to be her… It frightened me, Tom. It made me feel as if I wasn’t good enough for you.” You were sobbing, makeup running down your cheeks and transferring to your shaking hands when you wiped under your tired eyes. Exhaustion weighed down on your body but you kept fighting for hope that you and Tom could resolve this fight. Every couple fights, surely. Tom’s face was upset and apologetic. 

“Oh my God, baby. I’m so sorry.” He brought a thumb up to your cheek, brushing away the damp tears and his thumb becoming ever-so-slightly black from the mascara you’d washed off. You stayed still, allowing him to caress your face. Tom was making it up to you, both verbally and physically. He begged for forgiveness because, even though he could be an ignorant douche (accidentally), he really really loved you. “Really, I am. You’re more than her. You’re everything. You’re my stars, love. It’s like before you all my stars were jumbled but now they’re aligned, you know?” You laughed.

“You’re so fucking cheesy, Tom.” He smiled down at you, his straight teeth poking out from his pink lips. “But I love it which means, God, I guess I’m going to have to love you. Sucks, right?” You rolled your eyes jokingly and Tom lightly poked your thigh, asserting his (unimportant) dominance for a joke. You rolled your eyes more, batting his hand away from you. 

“You love me?” He asked, smiling cockily with his arms folded. It was as if he was a child proud of  a drawing or something. 

“Maybe. I mean, if I didn’t the press would have an absolute fit and I can’t be bothered to go through that right now so for the time being… I guess.” But by that point neither of you could hold the act. You both erupted into fits of giggles and hearty laughed until Tom found your hand and held it. 

“I love you.” He sang, grinning from ear to ear ecstatically - happy he got his love back. 

“I love you too.” You answered at his call, biting down on your lip to hold a huge - goofy - smile. “But… I’m really tired, can we go to bed? Like, fucking hell, I’m exhausted.” You were, it wasn’t a lie. You felt your eyes grow heavier as you waltzed towards to bedroom, Tom following. You rumbled through your draws and collected a pair of pyjama shorts and one of Tom’s old Marvel sweatshirts. He smiled as it engulfed your form, swamping you in a rich blue - it was from Spiderman: Homecoming, of course. Tom smiled at the pile of his things in the corner. 

“You went batshit for a while, right?” He chuckled, kneeling to grab a pair of sweatpants and a grey t-shirt which hugged his muscles nicely. You laughed and clambered into your bed, letting the bedsheets swallow you. Tom hopped in not long after. 

“This is nice.” You mumbled, edging closer to him and cuddling him. You could feel his heat radiating off onto your skin, some of his deodorant transferring onto your (his) sweater which already smelt of him. His curled hair fell around his forehead, bouncing on your forehead as he leaned into you. 

“Yeah, it’s nice. I’d say so but it’s not a new experience - we literally did this last night.” 

“Yes but it always feels fresh after a fight. It feels like we’re a new couple again - it’s exciting.” 

“New couples have lots of sex.” 

“Tomorrow. Maybe. Patience, grasshopper.” You collapsed into fits of laughter as you snuggled into him tighter, smiling against him and feeling your eyes go heavy. “A little blip it was but it’s made us stronger. I’m going to sleep, love you.” 

“I love you too, my love.” But you didn’t hear that; you’d fallen fast asleep. 

~

First post on this account! I hope you liked it, this took me a while. More fanfiction will be coming but not just Tom Holland! It’s likely I’ll include some Tom Hiddleston and Sebastian Stan, don’t worry. Maybe more celebrities - just request in my ask! Or message me.

#tomholland #tom holland #spiderman #marvel #tomholland x reader #zendaya #peterparker #fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #hollanders #tom holland x y/n #y/n #zendaya x reader #love #tom holland romance

[boxywrites-blog]

Lemon Cakes and Pie

Summary: Reader owns a bakery in a small town where a group of demons decide to throw a party. An injured Dean Winchester is in need of a hideout and a helping hand.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2 401 (it got away from me…)

Warnings: Canon typical injuries and swearing, I think

Prompt: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill me.” (marked in bold)

Beta’d by the one and only @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms 

A/N: IT’S SO FLUFFY! This story is for the lovely @impala-dreamer‘s OP4A Challenge! This is also the first fan fiction I’ve posted on Tumblr… *gulp* I didn’t even like this storyline when I started writing it, but I think it turned out fine in the end. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

In the small town of Plainville, Kansas, everything was as the name suggests; plain. Although the town initially got its name from the actual plains it was situated upon, one could argue the applicable meaning of the word had shifted over the years.

You owned a small but fairly successful bakery in the middle of town. You were very proud of it, as you had saved money for most of your life to start your own bakery. Last year you had even won a state award for your famous lemon cakes. You had the diploma framed and hung on the wall behind your counter, reminding you that dreams really can come true.

Every morning started out roughly the same; you waking up at 4 am in your cozy suburban home for one, just a few blocks from the bakery. You always got up straight away and got ready in a jiffy, out of the door by 4:25 am, getting on your bike and arriving at the bakery five minutes later. Breakfast had to wait until you were done with your morning chores, but coffee was a necessity to function so that was always where you started.

The day progressed as any other Thursday would, with the exception that rain was pouring down like there was no tomorrow. You had fortunately been inside all day but the clock neared closing hours and the rain didn’t seem to subside. You would have to brave the storm if you ever wanted to get home and eat that last carton of chocolate ice cream you had in your freezer. Not to mention catching up on your Netflix watchlist. Thursdays were sacred to you; the one day of the week when you indulged yourself in whatever your latest television obsession was.

After hearing the doorbell chime and seeing the last two customers leave the bakery, you walked over to the front door and turned the Open sign to Closed. Through the window you saw people jogging to their cars, trying to avoid getting soaked in the rain. Poor Mrs. Rosenberg was walking her white terrier Muffin, named by yours truly, in the park across the street. Neither Mrs. Rosenberg nor Muffin looked particularly content with the situation.

Especially not when a thick, black smoke surrounded Mrs. Rosenberg and- Wait... What? No. What? That most definitely had never happened on a Thursday before. In fact, that had never happened at all.

The rain kept hammering down as Muffin jumped up and down, barking at the intruder. The smoke around Mrs. Rosenberg grew more intense as the old lady was seemingly frozen in place. Muffin, bless him, started pulling at her skirt and trying to get her to move away from the threat, of course with little success.

All of a sudden the black smoke charged at Mrs. Rosenberg and dived straight down her throat. After a little struggle she went completely still and proceeded to glance down at Muffin. The terrier let go of her skirt and bolted in the other direction, as fast as his little legs could manage.

Just when you were about to reach down and lock the door a man came bursting through it, causing you to stumble backwards. He quickly closed the door and locked both the first and second deadbolt. He even pulled down the blinds! You didn’t know what to think, so you did the next best thing and put your mind on autopilot.

“I-I have closed the shop for today,” you stammered as you backed farther away from the stranger, trying to reach the false safety behind your counter. He didn’t really seem to take any notice of you.

That’s when you noticed the bleeding. This, for some reason, stopped your retreat. That and the fact that when he finally turned your way you were struck, like a flash of lightning from the sky, by the most gorgeous face you’d ever seen.

Well, not to say that his body wasn’t just as impressing, at least from what you could tell by his tight fitted jeans and that snug black t-shirt he wore under a blue flannel shirt. You were shamelessly staring at his muscular arms and shoulders when he snapped you out of your not-so clean thoughts.

“Hey! Do you have any salt in here?” the stranger said, now starting to rearrange the nearby tables and chairs by the windows, stacking them on top of another, subsequently covering the view from your big windows.

“Um, yes? But I don’t think your problem is low sodium levels right now, I’m pretty sure you need a doctor for that cut,” you said, pointing at his left hand that was pressed against his abdomen. “Stitches,” you clarified.

“Salt!” he barked at you. “Now!”

“All right, all right!” You raised your hands in surrender and fetched the nearest salt shaker, placing it in Dean’s outstretched hand. His face quickly went from showing impatience to complete confusion.

“What is this?” He tilted his head in confusion. “No! This won’t do. I need like a big bag of it!” His serious expression made you turn on your heel and heading straight for the storage room in the back. This man was either batshit crazy, which would explain him being too good looking to be true, or simply suffering from severe blood loss. Either way, there was apparently no use in arguing with him.

When you handed him the largest bag of salt you could find he quickly ripped open a corner and started pouring the salt in a thick line along the windows and the door.

The only thing you could think of asking him was “Who are you?”

“Dean Winchester. I’m a demon hunter,” he stated, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N, cake baker,” you mimicked. Dean just stared at you. Apparently this guy had no humor. “Seriously though, do I need to call you a doctor, or perhaps some sort of a psychiatrist?”

“I’m not crazy, okay? There are real demons out there. A whole lot of them.” He let out a sigh and ran his free hand through his hair, seemingly trying to calm down. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in right now, but those monsters that you had nightmares about as a kid, they really do exist. And some of them are outside right now.” His eyes told you to trust in him and just accept the explanation for what it was. You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

“And that black smoke thingy that attacked Mrs. Rosenberg was a demon?” Dean nodded. “Is she a demon now?”

“She’s possessed by one, yes.”

“And the salt?” you asked, pointing at the now finished salt line, covering both the windows and the door.

“It protects us. Demons cannot cross it.” Dean said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Of course. That makes perfect sense,” you said, mockingly.

“Hell, you don’t have to believe me, I just needed a place to hide and ride out the storm until my brother gets here.” He glanced back outside through the blinds, muttered something to himself, obviously not liking what he saw. “Do you have a steady hand, Y/N?” Dean said, out of the blue. You were so taken aback that you didn’t really think before answering.

“I’d like to think so, yeah. I decorate all the cakes by myself.” you said, gesturing towards the counter, displaying a few cakes in various sizes and themes.

“And do you know how to sew?” You knew where this was going now.

“The ‘patching-up-a-pair-of-jeans’ type, yeah. The ‘saving-a-man-from-bleeding-to-death’ type, nope. Uh-uh, no way.”

“Yeah, well you’re all I got, sweetheart, so you will have to do. My brother is most likely still an hour drive away from here, and I won’t have that long unless you start patching me up right now.”

“Okay,” you whispered and quickly went to the back room, gathering up anything and everything that you might need. Of course, most of it was just guesses from your part. Although, you’d like to think that all those hours watching Grey’s Anatomy were more than just a waste of time.

“What happened to you anyways?” you asked when you got back and started organizing everything on the floor, opening gauze packs and thread a needle. Dean had already lied down behind the counter and propped up his head on his rolled up jacket.

“I think someone stabbed me with a window, it’s all a bit fuzzy.” Dean removed his hand and looked down on the wound. “Well, fuck. There’s still a piece of glass in there. You will have to pull it out and then patch me up immediately, or else we’re gonna have a bloodbath in here. You ready?” You shook your head; you would never be ready for something like this.

“On the count of three; one tw-” You pulled the shard of glass out as fast as you could, quickly pressing a bunch of gauze on the now weeping wound.

“Ow! What the hell?!” Dean grumbled.

“I’ve heard that it hurts less when you’re not prepared for it,” you said, matter-of-factly, as you started to clean up the wound with antiseptic.

“Yeah, well, that’s bullshit.”

“Good to know.” You carefully removed the gauze and took your prepared needle in hand. After taking a deep breath, or two, you got to work. Dean hissed when you did the first stitch, but seemed to collect himself.

“I need a drink,” he grunted.

“You and me both. How am I doing?” You were only halfway through stitching the wound, and blood was still gushing out and trickling down his side. Dean followed your gaze to the now soaked-through gauze he held below where you were stitching.

“Well”, he grunted as he threw the old gauze to the side and grabbed a new one, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill me.” He must have seen the horror in your eyes because he started to chuckle, only to have the chuckle turn into a coughing fit.

“Give me some credit here! I’m not even close to being a medical practitioner… I bake lemon cakes, for crying out loud!” you pleaded, desperation filling your voice.

“If I make it through this, remind me to try one of your famous lemon cakes,” Dean said, glancing up at your diploma.  “Although, I’d rather have pie...”

“If by some miracle you do survive this, despite my poor excuse for a patch job, I’ll bake you any pie you want. Just don’t die on my floor…”

“I’ll do my best.”

Half an hour later you were cleaning up the mess you’d made on the floor and Dean was absentmindedly holding his hand over the now-bandaged wound while looking through the blinds after possible danger. There were apparently still a bunch of demon-possessed citizens roaming the streets in search for… well, anything they could get their hands on. You turned your head in Dean’s direction when you heard the low rumble of a car coming to a stop just outside your shop.

“Looks like my little brother is finally here to save the day.” You got up and went over to Dean, looking out and seeing a sleek, black, classic car parked in front of the bakery. The driver, you could see the family resemblance, rolled down his window and pulled out a megaphone. When he started chanting something in Latin, you turned your head to Dean with a puzzled look on your face.

“Exorcism,” Dean said, apologetically. Right. Why not throw in a little 70s horror movie vibe? This situation was clearly not scary enough. The people gathered outside started to It looked like they were screaming. When Dean’s brother finally finished his chanting the black smoke came flowing out of them and they tumbled to the ground.

“Are they dead?” you asked, not sure if you were ready for the answer.

“No, just unconscious,” Dean clarified. They watched his brother get out of the car and head towards them. Dean unbolted the door and let him in. The brothers patted each other on the back, before turning to you. Even though Dean had explained that this was his little brother, there was nothing ‘little’ about him. The man was a giant! The brother took a step forward, extending his hand.

“Hi, I’m Sam,” You shook his outstretched giant’s hand, feeling smaller than ever. “I hear you saved my brother’s life” Sam said, smiling gratefully at you.

“Yeah well, I’m pretty sure he saved mine from those demons, so I’d say we’re even,” you said and smiled back.

“Nonsense.” He turned to Dean. “May I see it?” It was evident that the brothers cared deeply for one another. They had probably been through worse than this, considering how lightly they took this whole situation. You couldn’t even begin to understand what it must be like to be a hunter. Thank God for your bakery!

“Good work, Y/N,” Sam said once he’d finished examining his brothers wound. “Looks like he’ll be as good as new in no time.” Sam sent an encouraging smile your way, and you couldn’t help but feel proud over your handiwork. Binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy had finally paid off.

The brothers offered to drive you home, even though the danger was gone, just to make sure you got inside safely. They pulled up the Impala right outside your house and followed you to your door. You hugged Sam goodbye first, promising him you were seriously going to consider learning Latin.

“Thanks for stitching me up,” Dean said, as Sam made his way back to the car. “If you ever pass Lebanon, give us a call,” You exchanged numbers and hugged, making promises of keeping in touch.

“Remember, you still owe me that pie!” Dean called back with a big grin on his face, winking at you as he got in his car. You smiled and waved at him.

You stayed on your porch until they had left your driveway and rounded the corner. You turned around to head back inside, knowing full well that when you woke up tomorrow you would see the world in a completely different way. At least there were people out there, like the Winchesters, protecting you from things that go bump in the night.

Shamelessly tagging some lovely people (pls don’t kill me ;)):

@hannahindie @trexrambling @katymacsupernatural @ravengirl94 @emilywritesaboutdean @percywinchester27 @charliebradbury1104 @luci-in-trenchcoats @kathaswings @atc74

#dreamer’s op4a challenge #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester reader insert #spn #spn family #spn fandom #spn fanfic #spn x reader #spn x you #impala-dreamer #boxywrites

[sweetersuga]

Coquette | 5

bts x fuckgirl!reader high school!au | series warnings: smut, sexual themes, polygamy, angst, foul language, cheating

genre: angst, romance, smut

chapter warning: angst, the teeniest, TINIEST bit of male on female violence

note that this chapter will NOT have smut

continuation status: yes | possibly | no

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

word count: 5,254

“T-Taehyung get off of me!” you shouted, attempting to knee him in his crotch, but his hand flew down far too quickly for your liking and stopped your limb from connecting with his body. With an estranged chuckle, he shoved you down to the sidewalk and took a step back while crossing his arms, almost as if he was pleased with how easily he tossed you around. A pained grunt escaped your lips as your skin connected with the pavement, a newfound burning sensation forming on your elbows.

You took that as your opportunity to quickly scurry to your feet and dashed to the opposite direction of him that you had been originally going, hoping he’d give up, but he didn’t. You heard footsteps quickly following after yours and adrenaline began pumping through your veins as you made abrupt turns left, across the street, then right.

You didn’t want him following you home; so instead, you scurried further into town until you began passing various different stores. People around you watched in curiosity as you ran with Taehyung hot on your heels, but no one had made an effort to stop and ask any questions as they all minded their business, not wanting to get involved with what probably looked like two teenagers simply messing around. You had a feeling he wouldn’t do anything if there would be potential witnesses, but as you were about to shout out for help while you looked behind you, panic overwhelming you from how insanely close he was, you ran into someone who let out a startled yelp as you both crashed to the ground.

This time you landed flat on your back simply because your foot had gotten caught behind the other, preventing you from steadying yourself and you winced in pain, your head spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

“Y/n?” It was Jungkook. He quickly stood up and dusted himself off before reaching his hand out for you and you took it, nearly crashing into his body as he used his strength to pull you up. “Why were you running?”

His eyes searched yours for an answer but you desperately held onto his hands even tighter, fear prominent in your eyes as your gaze shifted from his concerned ones, to Taehyung’s, who silently stood behind him with a smirk. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t form a sentence and you stood there shaking under Jungkook’s grip, still trying to process what was going on yourself. Taehyung cleared his throat and Jungkook’s head snapped over his shoulder - a look of confusion washing over his face as he cocked his head to the side.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Taehyung chuckled airily as he scratched behind his ear with his pointer finger, taking a step closer to the two of you.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” you slowly turned your head to the left to see a girl you knew at school named Jennie who looked equally as confused as Jungkook. She rested her hand on your shoulder comfortingly and you swallowed harshly, letting go of Jungkook’s hands to wipe the sweat off of your own as you took a step back.

Finally you managed to find your voice, and with all you could muster, you pointed a shaky finger accusingly at Taehyung who feigned innocence. Jungkook’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure of where you were trying to go with your explanation, when his eyes trailed down to your stained elbow.

His eyes widened and he gently grabbed your forearm, angling it so your elbow that slowly dripped blood came to his full view. His grip on your arm tightened before he let out a shaky sigh and turned to face Taehyung. “What the fuck did you do, man?”

“What? I didn’t do anything,” he rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What the fuck? You attacked me!” the words left your mouth before you realized it, causing a few heads around you to silently turn, including Jungkook’s. His gaze on you softened. “He did this to you?”

“She’s lying,” Taehyung shrugged as casually as he could muster. “I’m lying? Why the hell would I lie? You’re fucking crazy!” you croaked out, your heart still beating 100 miles per second. Jungkook turned to face Taehyung and gently shoved you further behind him causing you to bump into Jennie, who stood there awkwardly with her arms crossed.

“If she’s lying then why were you chasing her? And explain to me why she’s bleeding while you’re at it. Her uniform’s stained!” His voice dripped venom and you could see how tightly he clenched his fists, ready to throw a punch at the boy who he was protecting you from at any given moment.

“Probably rug burn,” he avoided Jungkook’s first question. “or maybe Hoseok went a little rough on you, eh?” he retorted with a playful smirk, shifting his gaze over Jungkook’s shoulder onto your shaken figure.

Jungkook clenched his fists once more, a sigh releasing from his tensed throat before he crossed his arms. “Just go. You don’t want to start any problems man-”

“But what if I do? That bitch’s nothing but a problem herself,” he spat with utter hatred in his tone; a long, slender finger pointing straight at you. “I followed her after school to see where she’d go. What happened to studying, y/n? I didn’t realize that meant shoving more dicks down your throat! How many has it even been so far?”

“You have no proof that I even did anything with Hoseok!” you exclaimed weakly. “Even if I did, that gives you no right to EVER put your hands on me.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “By the look in your eyes, it seemed you liked it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief but before you had any time to say anything, Jungkook stepped in and took action, giving Taehyung a singular firm shove that sent him stumbling backwards on his feet a few steps. “Do you ever fucking quit man? Just go!”

“Fine, fine,” he waved his hands in defeat as he walked backwards. “I bet if it were Jimin, he’d take my side. You won’t be able to protect your little damsel in distress forever - you should focus on watching your own back.”

The three of you watched in complete and utter silence as he turned on his heel and began strutting back in the direction he chased you through. Before turning a corner, he glanced over his shoulder and gave a teasing salute, then disappearing behind a corner store out of your sight. Even yards away, you could tell he was staring directly at you.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook suddenly blurted out, causing your attention to snap away from where Taehyung previously stood to his concerned face. “Jennie, can you, uh.. Give us a sec?”

Jennie nodded tensely and quickly headed a few yards behind you and Jungkook to lean against a tree, scrolling through her phone with her foot casually kicked behind her. You felt a lump began to form in your throat at that moment as realization finally washed over you. So many scenarios ran through your head of how the scene could’ve played out if you didn’t legitimately run into Jungkook, yet they got worse as you wondered what could’ve happened if you hadn’t ran at all.

He could sense your sudden decrease in mood and gently patted your shoulder, before pulling you in for a slow, quite uncomfortable hug. The way he barely held you made it seem as if he were afraid you would crumble right underneath his touch at that very moment and he didn’t want to risk seeing you come undone.

You didn’t respond to his hug. After a few seconds he slowly withdrew, but his hands shifted back onto your shoulders and he rubbed light circles into a spot on your collarbone with his thumbs, surveying your blank expression.

“Be honest with me. What the hell happened?”

You let out a sigh in defeat and glanced down at the pavement, realizing the least you could do was give him a well owed explanation, considering he had practically saved you from the boy who desperately wanted to hurt you.

“I-I don’t know,” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “I was on my way home when it started raining, ‘course I didn’t bring my fucking umbrella cause I have all the fucking luck in the world. I ended up running into Hoseok and he offered me to come over to his, so I accepted-”

You could see Jungkook attempt to hold in his sigh, but ignored it and continued on. “-and I stayed over for a bit. Only until the rain had cleared up! How was I supposed to know Taehyung was stalking me? Once I left, he just appeared out of nowhere, acting batshit crazy. He shoved me up against a pole and pushed me to the ground so I ran.”

Jungkook’s face paled as a look of realization set upon his defined features. Your brows knitted together in confusion as you watched him swallow, lowly muttering out a string of profanities as he tapped his foot against the pavement and crossed his arms. “What?”

“Y/n..” he started slowly, avoiding eye contact. “If you tell the police, he’s gonna rat me out.”

“What? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

He sighed. “About.. About the drugs. He knows I have them.”

Your throat went dry as you stared at him in disbelief. “Are you actually kidding me?” He didn’t want you to tell the police what Taehyung did because he was more worried about getting caught?

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think-”

“-Yeah, you don’t think Jungkook, and that’s your problem right there. He ASSAULTED me, but of course you’re worried about saving your own ass, right?” you let out an amused scoff. “I’m starting to think that if I didn’t know your dirty little secret, things would’ve played out differently here, huh?”

His eyes widened, immediately regretting his choice of words, but it had already been too late and you began walking off. “Come on y/n, that’s not what I meant! Of course I would’ve still helped you!”

You tried your best to contain your tears as you stopped and simply shook your head, digging your fingernails into the palm of your hands to distract yourself from the emotional pain soaring through your head. “Just.. Just fuck off, Jungkook. He was right. Worry about yourself.”

You avoided going home. You solemnly walked around town, too preoccupied with your thoughts to the point where the idea of walking down that previous path made you feel sick to your stomach.

Was it all really worth it?

What were you even really doing this for?

You knew the reason why, but you hid it deep down in your mind, refusing to acknowledge and accept it. Sure, there were “healthier” ways to accept the past, but you always told yourself, “I’m doing just fine. Why should I stop?”

Well, you never, ever once thought something like this would actually happen. You couldn’t blame Taehyung for being angry with you. The only thing you refused to give up, was the fact that he should’ve seen it coming all along, but he didn’t. Either he had been blind, or simply in denial to the truth behind your actions.

Speaking of him, he had texted you a few minutes ago. Multiple times, if you will.

Taehyungie ♥ @ 7:09PM: Hey.. I know you probably hate me right now, but I just wanted to apologize.

Taehyungie ♥ @ 7:12PM: I shouldn’t have hurt you like that. I don’t want you to be scared of me, okay?

Taehyungie ♥ @ 7:12PM: Just please call me when you see this so we can talk things out. I’m willing to.

You paused as you read the texts and let out an audible scoff; continuing to wander around, until you made it to a park that had been all too familiar to you. Numbed down to your fingertips, you couldn’t bother to cry as you trailed through the freshly cut grass and took a seat at one of the picnic tables.

An idea popped up in your head and you snapped your fingers before unlocking your phone, letting out an internal groan once you saw your battery percentage had surprisingly drained to 5%. “Enough to make one phonecall?” you thought. Your fingers quickly tapped your ‘Contacts’ list and letting out a brief sigh, you began typing in the name of a boy you used to be friends with last year, but grew distant as his parents moved deeper into town, causing him to switch schools. You wondered if you were making a mistake. “What if he doesn’t answer?” you thought. “What if he doesn’t consider us friends anymore?”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the slightly scruffy voice on the other line greet you eagerly. “Y/n? You called!”

Snapping out of your trance, your eyes widened as you nodded your head dumbly, before stuttering out, “Y-yeah! Joon, it’s me.”

“How’re things going? You haven’t called me in ages,” he clicked his tongue in a playful manner. You swallowed roughly and cleared your throat, your gaze shifting down to the grass beneath you.

“Uh.. Well, honestly I-I don’t know anymore,” you chuckled, attempting to hold back your dry sobs in hopes he wouldn’t hear you. You needed someone to vent to, but the last thing you wanted was for anyone’s pity and you didn’t want to worry him.

“Oh? What’s wrong?” you could hear the frown in his voice as his usually playful tone dropped.

“I-my phone’s gonna die. Um, are you busy or something?” you switched the topic.

“Nah, just went grocery shopping and I’m chilling at home right now. Where are you?”

You gave him the directions to the park you were at before he told you he’d be arriving there shortly and you both hung up. You felt slightly guilty for having him come out of his way just to see you, but he reassured you that it wouldn’t be a bother - he wanted to see you in person after all these months. 

About 15 minutes passed in silence before you saw a black, sleek car slowly driving down the road to your left, coming to a halt on the side of the road, before your eyes were greeted with a familiar undercut and tall, lanky figure who shut his car door before locking it and turned around, greeting you with a bright smile.

“Y/n!” he breathed out a few yards across from you, jogging across until he reached the picnic table and you stood him, waving at him shortly. You were taken aback when he pulled you into a sturdy hug, his warm arms wrapped around your shoulders, preventing you from escaping his grip. As politely as you could, you returned the hug and let out a quiet, relieved sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the warmth his chest radiated off onto you in contrast to the cold wind that blew around you.

He pulled back, eyes raking over your figure quietly, before they settled on your seemingly anxious expression. “What’s up? I haven’t seen you in forever,” he guided you back down to the table, sitting next to you. What were you going to tell him? Should you have said everything on your mind, or should you only bring up Taehyung’s outburst? You inhaled deeply, searching for where to even begin. Namjoon leaned in closer to you to grasp your attention. “Hey, you know you can tell me everything, right?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you exhaled, refusing to meet his gaze. “it’s just.. I can honestly say, I’m not exactly proud of what I’ve done.”

Out the corner of your eye, you could see him cock his head to the side. “Well, what did you do?”

“You know,” you started with a chuckle, “I think you’re the only person I haven’t ran into these past weeks.”

So you told him everything. From Jungkook to Yugyeom, Taehyung to Jimin, back to Taehyung, then to Hoseok; and all the previous guys before that you used as a toy to - entertainingly - pass the time and take your mind off of what truthfully hurt you. He listened as silently as he could whilst you explained everything, only responding with simple nods here and there to assure you that he had been paying attention. He even stayed quiet as you informed him on what happened with you, Taehyung, and Jungkook only hours ago, making sure you’d finish with everything you had to say before he’d give his two cents.

“Y/n.. I.. I’m sorry that happened,” he stuttered in shock, eyebrows strained in an upwards position on his forehead.

“Why?” you chuckled dryly. “I did all of this to myself.”

“..Yeah, I can’t lie. But that fucker still had no reason to even lay a finger on you. Look man, I can’t deny what you’ve done is shit, but you have the ability to stop yourself before it gets even worse. You barely got away from Taehyung and had it been Jungkook wasn’t there, who knows what he would’ve done to you? I’m just saying, things like that could happen again. Everything and anything can happen in your life, but it’s better to prevent a situation than to willingly accept the risks, right?” “I know, I know. You’re right. You’re always right, aren’t you?” you sighed with a soft smile - one that didn’t reach your eyes.

He nodded proudly with a dimpled grin. “As for that asshole coming back in your life, I know you y/n. You’re a girl who needs closure. Shit, you could be an interrogator with how many “why's” you ask! In my opinion, if you think it’ll really help you, then go for it. I’m not saying you should be the one to initiate everything after all the idiot’s done, but a few years passed, I’m sure he’ll realize his mistakes and warm up to you at the right moment.”

“Thanks Joonie,” you cooed after a few moments of silence, taking in everything he said. “can you..” you trailed off quietly, finally looking Namjoon in the eyes. He quirked a brow, edging you to continue.

“Can you hold me?”

He nodded silently and slid closer to you, wrapping his left arm over your shoulder and his right one slid between your arm and waist, resting at the top of your hip. He pulled you closer to him where you tiredly laid your head against his chest and listened to the sound of his faint heartbeat muffled by his grey sweater as he rested his head on top of yours. His embrace was warm and welcoming, and for once, you felt like you belonged where you were. No, he wasn’t sweating and grunting on top of you - yet he managed to protect you from the harsh wind that seeped through the tiny threads of your school uniform. His touch on you wasn’t sexualized in the least bit - it was innocent, like an animal protecting its cub from all the danger and harshness in the world.

You always had a soft spot for Namjoon, but you knew he could never be yours. He loved his girlfriend far too much to ever see you in that light - you were unsure as to whether you ever had a crush on him or not, but you always knew each and every one of his girlfriends were luckier than they imagined for being with a man such as he. You couldn’t imagine the risk of putting your friendship on the line for a thing as selfish as getting laid.

You both stayed like that for a bit, before you finally decided you’d head home. He insisted on driving you back in his car which you gladly accepted, and soon after, you were standing on your front porch side by side in a deafening, yet understanding silence while you fiddled around with a string from your book bag. “So.. This is you,” Namjoon breathed, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

“What?” he pulled his lips into a frown, poking your shoulder as you looked up at him.

“Nothing! It’s just - you’re so awkward sometimes,” you grinned and rolled your eyes before digging around in your bag for your house key.  “..But yeah, this is me, I guess.”

“So I’ll see you later?” he asked, and you nodded. You pulled him in for another hug, although this one lasted merely a few seconds before you both pulled away. “Hopefully.”

“Text me once you charge your phone! We have lots to catch up on!” even as he stepped away and his figure had gotten smaller in the distance, you could still see his million dollar smile which never left his lips and couldn’t help but smile yourself as you watched him get into his car and drive off.

As you entered your house, you were almost immediately greeted by the disappointed looks of your parents and on queue, your eyes rolled.

“I’ll be up in my room!” you casually smiled and quickly yanked your shoes off, jogging up the stairs before they had time to question your whereabouts.

You did exactly what Namjoon said. Plugged your phone in and once it finally turned on, headed to your contacts list and texted him a simple “hey”, ignoring the other 5 messages Taehyung had sent you. You weren’t going to let him affect your life, not anymore. As selfish as it may have sounded, you were done playing games with him, but you prayed he’d catch the drift sooner than later.

Monday hit. You were now officially the talk of the school and had received stares all morning once you arrived. Was this new? No, but things felt especially different, for reasons you’d soon discover.

“She’s the reason they broke up!” a short-haired brunette girl loudly whispered to her group of friends by her locker, peaking back and forth between them and you. Her slightly taller friend whacked her shoulder harshly to silence her with a scolding look, casting you a sympathetic smile and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose before returning to scold her friend for being so obliviously loud. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m the reason who broke up?” you thought to yourself, her words ringing through your ears as you continued to slowly stroll down the hall.

“I heard Taehyung hit her,” a boy faintly whispered to your right and your head snapped to his direction, eyes narrowing into little slits in confusion. He jumped at the speed of your gaze and almost cartoonishly ran off behind you with his friend down the hallway, further adding onto your suspicion. Someone had said Taehyung hit you!?

That obviously meant there was someone who had snitched about what happened yesterday, but it couldn’t have been Taehyung himself; why would he? That left you with only two other suspects.

You stomped off down the hall, nausea building in the pit of your stomach - if Jungkook had told someone what happened, God forbid you ended up in prison for murder, because that’s all that ran through your mind at that moment. Finally, you saw him at his locker, talking to a random boy you didn’t know, and you assumed he could sense your loud footsteps because he tensed up once you were a yard away from him.

“Jeon Jungkook! How could you-”

“Yeah, I’ll catch ya later,” he brushed you off and the other boy understood, nodding briefly before turning around the corner and leaving. Jungkook turned to face you and let out a sigh. You were fuming and he knew it. “Look, before you start making assumptions, it wasn’t me. It was Jennie. I told her not to, but she had already told Jessica before I even realized it, y/n!”

You paused. “She told Jessica what, exactly?”

Jungkook sighed and shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to tell you, but in all honesty, it would’ve been best for you to know. I mean, you deserved to know.

“That.. That you fucked Hoseok and Taehyung threatened you.”

“Oh my fucking God!” you laughed in disbelief, causing him to wince as you threw your hands in the air.

“They’re close friends, y/n. I’m sorry, but she wouldn’t listen to me! As for what she said about Taehyung, she admitted it wasn’t her business-”

“So she couldn’t have fucking talked to me!?” you shouted. Everyone in the hallway slowly quieted down to listen in on your conversation, but you didn’t care about them - what you cared about was how you’d somehow manage to “fix” this situation. Not only will Hoseok most likely hate you by now, but from what you’ve come to learn was Taehyung was too unpredictable to really depict how he’d react to being labelled a woman abuser by his peers, and even potentially get expelled from school - to say you were in a sticky situation would be an understatement.

“I don’t fucking know, okay!?” he snapped. “You told me to worry about myself, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m done with your little drama facade, y/n! Just fucking grow up and understand that not everything revolves around you.”

He huffed and pinched his nose before turning around and stomping off down the hall, leaving you in utter shock and silence. The murmurs and chatter began again, but you couldn’t seem to move from your spot. Your cheeks were hot and eyes watery as you tried to prevent yourself from crying in frustration. How did he expect you to react? If it were the other way around, you would’ve actually understood his position and tried your best to comfort him, but he practically implied you were selfish for worrying about a situation that legitimately did involve you - not to mention, you were the culprit!

You let out a shaky breath and squeezed your eyes shut, wiping the tears that built up in the corner with balled fists, nodding to yourself. If you were going to ease yourself out of this situation, it seems you’d have to do it alone.

After your first class, you searched for Taehyung nearly everywhere, but couldn’t find him, so you resorted to texting him instead. Once you opened his messages, you shook your head distastefully, eyes glancing over his even sappier texts about how he felt like shit because of what he did. You needed to focus on making yourself sound as innocent as possible with the fact that he had gotten ratted out, even though in that case, you were innocent. Jennie was to blame.

You @ 10:13AM: hey.. where are you?

Your heart sped up as you waited in suspense for a response, nearly yelling in relief once he read your message almost immediately.

Taehyungie ♥ @ 10:13AM: I’m by the building. Nice story you told everyone btw

You @ 10:13AM: it was Jennie, dude

You @ 10:13AM: i didn’t tell her to tell anyone, i didn’t even know she said anything until jungkook told me

Taehyungie ♥ @ 10:14AM: Yikes. Wanna come out and talk about it? I’m by the stairs

You @ 10:14AM: i don’t think it’s really a smart idea for us to talk anymore

You weren’t going to risk having anything happen to you alone with him outside. You were afraid enough with telling him you shouldn’t talk, but if he became hostile in his texts, you’d have a leverage over him and you’d get him suspended for sure.

Taehyungie ♥ @ 10:15AM: Figured you’d say that

Instead of responding, you left him on read and sighed. You already knew by now that none of this had truthfully been worth it, but this was the official straw. You were afraid of what Taehyung would, and could do to you, and quite honestly, you didn’t feel safe anymore. Regret filled you as flashbacks of you telling Jungkook to fuck off and worry about himself filled your mind - yeah, you had Namjoon, but he didn’t even go to your school anymore so how could he protect you? At this point, you were convinced - or should I say brought to realization - that nobody wanted anything to do with you unless they were a male who wanted to get laid. And that’s what probably stung the most.

school went by like a blur. Hoseok avoided you, Jungkook avoided you, you only saw Jimin’s face once; he looked somewhat sympathetic, and Yugyeom didn’t really give a crap about the situation you were in. Not like you really expected him to, but it would’ve been nice to see someone care.

As soon as you got out, you texted Namjoon again with a frown; you were having a really interesting conversation about the Mandela Effect last night, when he suddenly stopped responding.

You avoided everyone like the plague as you left. The only thing you wanted at that very moment was to lay down in your bed and take a long, long nap. Walking down that same path made chills run up and down your spine, and every little noise had you jump 10 feet into the air as you looked over your shoulder.

“Fuck this," you muttered, crossing the street and walking a mile or two until you reached the bus stop. There was one other person sat there, except he laid across the small bench with his feet hanging over the other side, face engulfed in his phone so deeply that he paid no attention to you and you raised your eyebrow in annoyance. His hair was pitch black and his clothes, the same; a simple, oversized black sweater, skinny jeans, a cap that covered his eyes and most of his face thanks to the angle he had his neck in as he tapped away. The only thing with color on his outfit had to be the worn out white on his converse, and the bits of pale skin that peaked out from the slits in his jeans.

“Excuse me sir, can you move?” you sighed. If he didn’t want to be polite, neither would you.

Without even replying or nodding, he shifted himself into a sitting position, removing his legs from the bench to allow you your seat. You sucked your teeth, but sat anyways; you weren’t in the mood to deal with anyone anymore.

“Ah - you’re still as beautiful as ever, y/n.”

That voice. The only voice that could possibly make your blood run cold. The only voice that could be described as heartbreak, deceit, anguish. The only voice that could take you back approximately two years ago, before things went to shit.

You slowly turned your head to the side, your heart practically climbing its way up your throat as a choked gasp escaped your lips.

“..Yoongi?”

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[dontshootmespence]

He is Mine

A/N: An anon request for a Spencer x Reader where they are together and both work for the team. Lila Archer is back in town and trying to make a move on Spencer. The reader ain’t having it. @coveofmemories​ @sexualemobitch​ @jamiemelyn​

                                                              ----

Why was it that the second you got comfortable in any aspect of your life, something stepped in to try and fuck it up?

You trusted Spencer. It wasn’t him. At all. It was her. Lila Archer. Where did she come from? Why was she here? And did she actually have the balls to continuously make moves on Spencer even though she was well aware he was taken? As she placed her hand on his arm for the 50th time in about five minutes, you came to the conclusion that yes, in fact this woman did have a set of balls on her. 

After excusing yourselves with a smile, you pulled Spencer away and headed back to your car. Grocery bags in hand. “What the hell is she doing back in DC? Career tank? Sorry, I’m being a snarky bitch.”

“I have no idea why she’s back,” Spencer laughed. He placed the groceries back in the car and kissed you on the forehead. “But you know you have absolutely nothing to worry about, right?”

You laughed, getting into the driver’s seat and bucking up. “Oh, I know. I trust you,” you replied. “But I don’t trust her to keep her paws off my man.”

“Your man?” he asked with a smile as wide as the galaxy itself. Hearing you talk about him like that always made him happy.

As you pulled up to the red light, you grabbed Spencer’s hand. “Yes,” you laughed. “My man. She best back off.”

                                                             ----

Apparently, Lila was back for good, or at least for an extended period of time, because you ran into each other over and over again during the course of the next few weeks. She frequented the same grocery store, coffee place, and even the park. Every time, she stopped to talk to you, and by you, she meant Spencer. She’d touch his arm repeatedly, even though Spencer recoiled at her touch. It wasn’t as if you weren’t aware of what happened between them when he had first joined the Bureau. They made out in her pool, which made sense considering Spencer was and still is an adorable dork and despite being a home wrecking fool, Lila Archer was a very pretty girl, but the past was the past, and you were near combustion as you watched her actively hit on your boyfriend of a year and a half. There was a proposal on the horizon for fucks sake; you were seething. 

‘We have to go,” Spencer said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him. “I’ll see you around.” And with that he spun around without another word and the two of you began to walk away. “I know very little about women, why is she doing this?” He asked you. 

“I don’t know why she’s doing this specifically with you, but she wants what she can’t have. Men and women are guilty of it and I don’t know why, especially when I’m right here.” You were astounded at her gaul. She was really something. 

                                                            ----

“Who knew Pretty Boy here would have two ladies after him at the same time?” Morgan said, slapping Spencer on the back as he sat down next to him. 

You sat up in your seat and smacked Morgan on the shoulder. “Excuse me, I am not after him. He is mine and that bitch needs to back off.” The two of you had been telling the team about your repeated run-ins with the beautiful Miss Archer over the past few weeks. “She keeps touching his arm and like, blatantly hitting on him while I’m STANDING RIGHT THERE! I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” 

No one could stifle their laughter. The two of you were as strong as a rock. Lila wasn’t going to get between you, but they found your exasperation amusing. “I’m gonna kill you all for laughing at me,” you said once you’d taken a deep breath. 

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m just waiting for the moment you actually flip out on her,” she said, leaning over and kissing your temple. The team just aww-ed at your overwhelming cuteness, saying how Lila was way out of her league and way, way out of line. “That’s going to make me happy.”

“Really?” you asked. “Because I’ve been holding myself back for your sake. I know you two had a thing, but-”

“We made out in her pool for a sum total of about 2 minutes,” he started, quickly getting interrupted by Morgan. 

“Abou 2 minutes? Pretty Boy doesn’t have an exact time.”

Spencer stared at him blankly. “My attention was focused elsewhere at the time.” He turned back to you. “Anyway, I would hardly call what we had a thing. By all means, next time we meet up with her, go off.” 

“You really get enjoyment out of that?” you asked.

“Having you claim me as your own when I was a hopeless teenager, and adult frankly, who never thought anyone would want him, yes, having you go all batshit over me makes me happy.”

Well, now that you had his blessing...

                                                           ----

It was like the universe was conspiring against you. “Oh fuck me,” you said, returning from the bathroom. You’d been on your way to a local police station for a case, and you’d been in desperate need of a bathroom, so you stopped by the grocery store you frequented and you ran inside. When you returned...

THERE SHE WAS! WHY!?

The rest of the team had gotten out of the car, trying to divert her attention until you came back. Spencer was still in the car and when he met your gaze, his eyes lit up. “Lila,” you said, giving her a strained smile as you moved back up to the car. “What are you doing here?”

“I just had to grab a couple of things and when I saw Spencer here, I figured I’d come say hi. Still trying to convince him to catch up some time,” she said. Did she not know? You couldn’t comprehend anything else. “He won’t even get out of the car to say hello.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to.”

“Say hello?” she asked.

“Yes,” you started, feeling a rant build inside you. “Maybe he knows that the second he gets out of the car, you’re going to hit on him. He’s taken you know.”

She cut her eyes at you. Oh, she knew. She knew and she just didn’t care. Lila was just about to open her mouth, regardless of whether or not the rest of the team was around or not, but you didn’t allow it. “Okay, let’s get things straight here Miss Archer. My name is Y/N. I’m going to spell things out for you. Spencer Reid is my boyfriend of nearly a year and a half. He’s not interested in you anymore. You had his attention for about 2 minutes when he was in his early-20s. He’s moved on since then.”

“Oh come, Spencer,” she said. “You know we could’ve had something special. You’re really going to turn this down for her?” She motioned to herself while the rest of the team looked on in varying states of amusement and awe.

“This is actually happening,” Emily said behind you. 

Without missing a beat, Spencer spoke. “Yes.” Finally, he stepped out of the car. “I wouldn’t have had a problem catching up if that was all you wanted, but you chose to ignore that I love someone else.”

Her gaze darted between the two of you. “So next time, when you see him, and think about putting your arm on his or putting a piece of his hair back behind his ear-” You’d forgotten about that, so your voice rose as you said it. “-Please remember that this is mine.” Your teammates were just smiling now, as was Spencer who was smiling from ear to ear. Pointing all over Spencer’s body, you continued. “This is mine and this is mine and this is mine and this is mine. He is all mine. He doesn’t want you and I swear to all that is holy the next time you try and hit on the man I love I am going to punch you in the throat and then go home and sleep like a baby. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal,” she said snarkily. “Whenever you’re done with this overbearing hag, give me a call.”

She began to walk away, her hips swaying as she went, but Spencer apparently wasn’t going to let her have the last word. “You know scientists say the universe is made up of electrons, protons and neutrons. However, I don’t recall anything about morons.”

You could not possibly have loved him more in this moment. Morgan was slapping his shoulder, complimenting him on his nerdy comeback. Lila stopped in her tracks. “Now we have a job to do. Goodbye, Lila.”

You sensed the hesitation. She wanted to turn around and say something again. Hopping into Spencer’s arms and placing a kiss on his lips, you said it one more time for good measure, just in case she still had any ideas. “See? He’s mine!” 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dontshootmespence #he is mine