Hello ! I hope you're well! request for tasm!peter parker x reader :)
It's nighttime and Reader has a nightmare about her own death or something, and wakes up in a panic. Reader decides to go to her boyfriend Peter's even though he's not home, to at least feel safe in his bed. She goes back to sleep at his place. And some time later there's a fire or something at her place, and Peter panics when he hears that her building is on fire. Hours later he goes home depressed and dejected that he hasn't seen her, doesn't know if she's safe. And he sees her on his bed.
Sorry if this is too precise ahah feel free to change it to your liking!
safe and sound || p. parker ( tasm )
an: i loved this request so much. this fic might seem rushed tho, so sorry!!!!
warnings: nightmare, burning building, breaking and entering ??, umm anxiety, blood. lmk if i missed smth
it was the middle of the night, you woke up on the couch. you don’t remember falling asleep there but then again, you were ready to fall asleep anywhere really once you gotten home from work.
you sluggishly walked back into your room, your eyes were steadily adjusting to the darkness. you had noticed someone laying in your bed, somebody who looked just like you.
your breath hitched, as you quickly turned the light on. they were completely lifeless, blood slowly pouring from their mouth. you eyed a big stain of blood on the duvet. you walked over, taking a closer look.
it was you, that was you lying in that bed. how could that be possible? you didn’t get that much time to dwell on the thought as you had been grabbed by your hair.
you took a glance at your vanity mirror as you say a tall, red, glowing figure before being flung into a corner. the figure began to grow brighter until it was red.
you felt suffocated at this moment, you didn’t know what to do. you couldn’t really move, all you could do is lay there and feel life leave your body to become vacant.
that’s when you shot up out of bed, gasping for air. you looked around your room, no glowing figure, no blood… must’ve been a nightmare.
you had a bad feeling in your gut, you didn’t want to go back to sleep, not like you could anyway. you grabbed your phone from the ground, only to realize that you phone was dead.
you got out of bed and ran over to the light switch, turning it on quicker than the actual speed of light. you packed an overnight bag, you put your toiletries in a dark blue jansport bag. along with a casual outfit.
you went to go grab your keychain, which held peters house keys on it. you decided to go there, so he could comfort you at this hour. to be honest, he was the only one that you wanted to be comforted by.
you had driven far from your apartment, going to peters home. you passed by a couple of fire trucks headed the opposite way, not paying any mind. you couldn’t take your mind off the nightmare.
you finally made it to peters home, the garage lights began beaming as the sensors spotted you. you crept up to the door and unlocked it.
the house was clean and very perfected, you were guessing aunt may had just dropped by. she cleans up every time she visits. you removed your shoes before walking any further into the house.
“peter?” you whispered, walking to the back, hoping you hear some sort of response. “peter.” you spoke sternly.
no response.
you went to his room, the first thing you noticed was peter not being there. the window was opened slightly, the cool midnight air flowing throughout the room.
nonetheless, you removed your hoodie and laid the packed bag on the floor. you laid down in the bed, picking up the faint cologne on the pillows. it didn’t take you long to fall asleep, even without peter, the comfort of his room and bedding soothed you.
meanwhile, peter had been swinging to the opposite side of town. he had heard on the police radio that he kept on his nightstand. he carried the radio with you,
he got there as fast as he could, he spotted a crowd of people. he had began walking around, trying to find your beautiful eyes and yet he never met them.
‘it’s spider-man!’ ‘hey, it’s the bug boy!’ he nodded, making his way through. he webbed up to the balcony of the apartment building.
he didn’t pay attention to the fire slowly seeping through his suit. “y/n!” he yelled. “y/n?!” he yelled louder. he specifically went down to your level. “jesus christ…” he muttered, watching the floor practically come apart.
he felt the cracking under his own feet, he tried to speed his way through the building, rushing to saftey.
he was freaking out, he called you repeatedly. it went straight to voicemail every time. he couldn’t bare to swing his way home. he had to process the last twenty minutes. he had lost you, it felt like a piece of him was taken away.
after a while, he made it back home. he took off his suit as soon as entered his home. he needed to remove that restricting suit. it was all burned and completed with holes.
he stumbled his way to his bedroom in defeat. he didn’t know what to do. he just wanted to curl up in his bed, never to leave it again.
peter opened the door to his room, the darkness surrounding him. he looked toward his bed, he noticed the lump in the bed, a familiar one.
he slowly walked over to the bed, he saw the beautiful locks he thought he’d never see again. he felt the weight come off his shoulders, you were here, safe and sound.
he crawled into bed, like he intended to do minutes before, only this time, you would be found in his arms, held closely to his chest.
being into weird small town media is so fun because after you consume enough you start seeing parallels in everything. doppelgangers. twins. eye motifs. electricity motifs. there's something Very Wrong with [insert animal]. portal in the woods. time travel and/or time loop. on that note, circular stories. vaguely apocalyptic. bikes. child haunting the narrative. group of teenagers with an uncanny resemblance to the scooby gang. extremely direct twin peaks homage. everyone's obsessed with the 80's. etc. and gradually the very presence of these becomes comforting in a way. which is kind of fitting because at their core, every weird town story is about home it's about family it's about coming back to your past again and again. it's about where you feel you belong regardless of how strange or downright flawed it is. do you get it
warnings: i might’ve written leon as a caramel macchiato kinda guy idk, umm idk what else, leon being a little awk, yn being a lil weird idk. if i missed anything, lmk!
"here's your light iced americano and a delicious blueberry scone. have a wonderful day," you beamed as you graciously presented the chilled coffee and pastry to the well dressed woman. with a swift nod of gratitude, she accepted the offerings, mouthing a swift "thank you," and proceeded to take them from your hands.
you glanced out through the glass windows, keeping an eye on everyone passing by. you were on the lookout for that guy who used to show up at the shop like clockwork, but it's been a good three weeks since you last saw him around.
every time he visited the café, he'd place an order for the exact same thing. it was all part of a little game you played, pretending to forget just to have the delight of hearing his charming voice, again and again.
the evening was growing late, and you were getting ready to close things up in about ten minutes. your coworker had already punched out an hour prior to closing, which left you all on your own.
with your manager being out sick, he knew he could rely on you. so, you stepped up. you grabbed the money tray from the register and headed to the back to begin counting the money.
the doorbell chimed with that familiar jingle. "hey, sorry, but we're just about to close. i've already shut down all the machines," you started to explain, but then your words trailed off as your gaze locked with his – leon. it felt like forever since you'd met eyes like that.
"bad timing?" he chuckled. "no, not at all! i kinda use that when i'm not in the mood to serve anyone. but for you, I'm more than happy to. don't worry."
"aw, thanks," you practically melted on the spot. "well, you already know my usual," he chuckled, stepping closer to the counter and fishing out his wallet.
"yeah, but i like hearing it from you," you hummed, tapping in his order. in your head, you couldn't help but think, 'did I really just say that?' your eyes shot up to meet his. "uh, i mean, sorry about that. yeah, um, a medium caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso and extra caramel."
all you could make out was a faint smirk on his face. "that'll be ei—" you began, but he cut you off. "eight twenty-seven, i know," he said, handing you a ten-dollar bill. you returned one dollar and seventy-three cents in change.
"keep it, my treat," he chuckled softly, gently placing the money back in your hand. his other hand slipped under yours, forming a cup as he poured the change back into your palm, as if it were delicate as water.
"wow, a whole dollar and seventy-three cents... all for me?" you grinned, playfully looking at leon's warm smile. you stashed the change in your apron pocket before heading over to switch the machines back on, letting them warm up once more.
“so, why are you here so late? you usually come here in the afternoon.” you attempted to make small talk, looking over at leon as you brewed the two shots of espresso.
"you even remember when I usually drop by?" he chuckled, crossing his arms. "yeah..." why do you keep blabbering? "i've been away for work stuff. just got back, luggage's still in the car," he shared, strolling around the café a bit, stretching his legs.
"—i've been missing you and the way you make my caramel macchiatos," leon chimed in. you grinned to yourself, adding a generous amount of vanilla syrup to the drink. "i'll make sure this one's just as special as the rest," you assured him.
the café lingered in silence for a moment until leon broke the quiet atmosphere. "so, when's your next day off?" your eyes widened at the question, caught off guard. you didn't quite know how to respond, but the question did raise your curiosity about his intentions.
"um, next tuesday," you replied, deftly drizzling caramel into the macchiato. "yeah? i was thinking maybe you'd want to come over to my place. i could cook something up for you, you know, since you’re always making those delicious macchiatos for me," leon stumbled over his words, appearing more disoriented than you'd ever seen him. then again, you hadn't really exchanged more than a few words with him before.
“i’ll consider it..." you smirked, finally capping the cup. grabbing a few napkins from the dispenser, you pulled out a sharpie from your pocket and jotted down your number.
“caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso and extra caramel for, leon.” you smirked, making sure the napkin with your number was visible. “thank you. sorry, i came so late, i wish i gotten here sooner.”
“don’t worry, you made my night.” you nodded, picking up the cash register tray once again. “same here… i guess i’ll call you then~”
a/n: sorry i’m fixating, i’m so in love w charlie walker help pls ignore this quick and horribly written blurb. (this is so bad 💀)
warnings: stalking, perv!charlie (but what’s new), umm charlie and reader r in fact dating.
after movie night with your family, you returned upstairs. you had dozed off on the couch alongside your father and brother, making it quite late when you finally went back to your room.
you made the choice to slip into your pajamas. sifting through your dresser, you picked out a tank top and some plush pajama bottoms.
you quickly unbuttoned your shirt, in a rush to remove it, followed by your bra that you pulled off over your head.
"where the hell did i put my clothes?"
you glanced around almost as if your clothes had grown legs and walked away. your eyes settled on them resting atop your office chair. you grabbed them from the chair and smoothly slipped into the soft pink tank top.
you removed your pants with the same urgency as your top. slipping into your skull-patterned pajama bottoms, you tied the white strings into a neat bow.
you picked up your laptop from the desk and then plopped onto the bed. laying out on your side, you propped your head up using the palm of your hand.
a buzz from your phone caught your attention, reaching over to retrieve it from the nightstand, you glanced at the screen, you noticed that charlie had sent you a message.
“you really shouldn’t leave your laptop open, there are creeps out there.”
your brows knitted together as you read the message repeatedly. had charlie not been the love of your life, his words would have had the cops outside his house in seconds, but you were well aware that his intentions were harmless.
“creeps such as yourself?”
to be fair, it did spook you a little. closing your laptop, you shifted onto your back, holding your phone above your face as you lay there.
“don’t stop the show baby :(“
you couldn't help but chuckle at his remark; he was truly quite helpless.
“u have two legs, walk over here and u could see all this irl.”
you and charlie are incredibly lucky to live in the neighborhood. yet, even if he had to travel miles, he'd do it to see you. the fact that he can be at your side in mere minutes adds to the convenience.
you approached the window and unlocked it, making it easier for him to climb in. not long after, you heard a series of gentle taps on the glass.
"come in~," you purred, your tone laced with allure. you laid back on the bed, propping yourself up against the headboard.
Omg Miguel ohara x drunk reader would be amazing thxxx
m. o’hara || “bar.” read 21:56
a/n: i was writing this @ an airport so i didn’t wanna spend time trying to think about any astronomical prodigious voluminous colossal words or trying to make this oneshot poetic or anything. enjoy! p.s. i’ve never gotten drunk before i’ve only gotten high so 💀
warnings: drunk, mentions of vomit, mentions of being kidnapped, that’s it i think
BUZZ BUZZ you felt your phone vibrate in your bra. your vision was slightly disoriented so it took you a couple of tries to even get in your phone. you saw the message notification from miguel, asking for a pin of your current location.
you believed that providing him with your location directly would be simpler than sending a pin to help him find you.
you adeptly typed, stringing together words that even shakespeare might envy, utilizing every term in the dictionary. your hands, experiencing cramps in the process. ‘bar.’
on miguel's side, he was nearly pacing back and forth, expecting a ransom letter from your kidnapper or some substantial information, and all he received was that brief message.
‘which one, cariño?’
you sighed as he couldn’t understand where you were. it was pretty plain and simple. you gave in and sent a pin. after that, you really don’t remember what was going on.
you came back to reality, found yourself laid in the back of miguel’s car. hozier quietly flowing out of the speakers. “this car is so nice, miggy…” you spoke with your face almost mushed in the seat.
"yeah?" miguel’s soft chuckle resonated, his deep voice nearly rendering him incomprehensible. "yeah," you responded, sharing a giggle with him.
“try not to be sick in here then, okay? we just have a few minutes left ‘til we get home.” you hummed as a reply, drifting away from reality once more.
you heard the car door open, your glossy eyes looking up at miguel’s tall figure. miguel swooped you up from the back. it was too fast for you. “don’t feel so good miggy.”
in a state of panic, miguel felt unsure of what to do next. should he quickly run to the bathroom? no, that’s what had triggered this situation. his gaze shifted to the trash bins in your garage, contemplating an alternative solution.
he walked over to them and popped the lid up, thankfully, trash day was that morning so there was no trash in the bin. he would still have to clean it out though.
your body never reacted well to alcohol, it always resulted to vomiting somewhere other than the restroom. this time, the victim was the roll bin.
"there you go, good girl," miguel comfortingly rubbed your back as you still felt a bit lightheaded and dehydrated. "i’m thirsty, miggy," you murmured, leaning your head back against his chest.
"alright, let's get you some water, baby," miguel said gently as he lifted you up, holding you in a swaddled manner. you rested your head on his chest and patiently waited as he carried you into the kitchen.
"put me on the countertop, it's cold," you instructed, pointing to the island counter. his laughter resonated through his chest as he carefully set you down on the cool surface. the cold marble sent a shiver through your backside.
miguel walked to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of water and a container filled with grapes. "here," he offered, handing you the water and keeping a watchful eye as you took sips.
you paused your drinking and set the water beside you. "nah uh, i want you to finish all of that before you eat these grapes," miguel insisted, his tone firm. he proceeded to wash the grapes and place them in a bowl.
with a groan, you chugged the remaining water in the bottle. "now the grapes, please...?" you requested, opening your mouth and patiently awaiting for miguel to feed you.
"of course, princess y/n," he replied with a smile, placing a grape in your mouth. you chewed with a content smile on your face.
hear me out, when leon kisses you, he kisses you hard.
leon brainrot || mentions of taking advantage! sorry if these don’t make sense, i was half sleep, chick 😭😭
oh you’re absolutely right. leon won’t stop kissing you until you’re out of breath. even then while you’re trying to catch your breath, he’s kissing down your neck and to your collarbones. you have to stop him from reaching your chest sometimes.
“ok muah i love you!” and you just blow him a kiss or whatever cus you’re about to be late for work. you don’t think much of it until you come back a leon is practically waiting at that door like dog.
as soon as you open the door, he’s greeting you, taking your jacket off and lifting you up bridal style???
“leon! put me down you idiot!” and he just drops you on the bed. “you didn’t give me a proper kiss goodbye.” and all of a sudden, you’re covered up in hickeys and you’re breathing all heavy because you didn’t give him a quick kiss goodbye.
or let’s say you’re not really dating yet and he takes you to a club and you wanna have some fun right so you’re out on the dance floor.
some guy is catching your vibe so he starts dancing with you. leon???? he is actually pretty chill about it. until you guys get waaaay too close.
so he goes up to the dance floor and pulled you off. he goes to sit back on the barstool with you in between his legs. “it was harmless dancing leon.”
“oh yeah?” and you’re blabbering on which it might be the slight alcohol. he’s let you go on for a couple of seconds. “uh huh…” then he grabs your chin and starts making out with you and it gets pretty intense tbh.
he does have respect though! he makes sure to stop himself before he gets arrested for public indecency and before he takes advantage on your slight drunken state.
hii i jus read ur latest spencer imagine, the angsty one and its so late rn and i got so emotional i cried abt it for like 10 minutes 😭😭i was wondering if you can write more spencer fics like that, you write angst so good
warnings: mentions of anxiety, hotch being reid’s dad, sensitive reader idk?? ummm angst and fluff
a/n: sorry guys, i’ve been awol. a lot has been going on mentally and i just needed some time to myself. i seen that i have requests in my inbox but it won’t let me view them fully. i’ll try to fix it, other than that enjoy ><
12:43 am. you gazed at the tv, engrossed in a monster high compilation, losing track of time. it wasn't until you realized that spencer hadn't called yet, breaking his tradition of always reaching out before midnight. now, it's almost a quarter to one, and you're left wondering.
you snatched your phone and dialed spencer's number, waiting as the faint sound of the ringing echoed from your cell's tiny speaker.
"hello, this is doctor spencer reid. unfortunately, i'm unable to answer your call right now. please leave your name, contact number, and the purpose of your call, and i'll return your message at my earliest convenience."
a loud beep pierced your ear before you ended the call, attempting to quell your growing worry, although your anxiety continued to escalate with each passing minute.
you made an effort not to dwell on it, yet sleep eluded you without the comfort of his soothing voice, reciting a romantic passage he had once come across in a book.
1:56 am. you dialed once more, the ringing filling your ear again, but this time spencer finally answered the call.
"what?" he replied with an irritated tone, causing your eyes to widen at his response. "um... i was just wondering how you were doing. you hadn't called," you stammered, a hint of concern in your voice.
"well, it's because i've been incredibly busy, y/n," he spoke sternly, his stress evident. you sensed his tension, a departure from his usual demeanor. "i’m sorry... i’m just used to you calling me before midnight. i’m sorry," you added before he hung up.
a feeling like your heart had been crushed by the world's largest hammer washed over you. your eyes began to well up, but you fought back tears, reminding yourself that he must have been under immense stress and didn't mean to come across so moody.
[ back @ the BAU ]
hotch observed the confrontation unfold, a sigh escaping him as he witnessed how spencer had spoken to you. "reid," he uttered with slight disappointment in his voice.
"yeah?" spencer turned around, rubbing his temples. "you need to go home... you've been awake longer than you should, and it's starting to impact your work," hotch advised.
spencer turned back to the large bulletin board, covered with crime scenes, maps, and other pieces of evidence waiting to be linked. "that wasn't a suggestion, reid," hotch's voice thick with authority. "it's an order."
"are you seri—" spencer began to protest, but hotch interrupted him. "spencer," hotch's tone was firm, cutting off any further argument. spencer could only manage a small scoff before he reluctantly complied. "go," hotch commanded, his gaze locking onto reid's for a final moment before he turned away.
he grabbed his coat and slung his crossbody bag over his shoulder, leaving without uttering any goodbyes. this particular case had pushed him to his limits.
twenty minutes later, he arrived home, the drive having given him some time to calm his emotions. during the drive, he reflected on how he had exploded on you over the phone.
he entered the bedroom quietly, noticing your body facing the door, a common sight. his gaze fell upon you cuddling his pillow, the one he usually slept on.
the pillow held his scent, offering comfort that helped you drift off to sleep. despite always missing spencer dearly, you hadn't gone to the extent of hugging his pillow before now.
the tv continued to play autoplayed cartoon shorts, casting a gentle glow that allowed him to see your face more clearly. "y/n... baby..." he whispered softly, concern lacing his voice.
spencer crouched down beside you, allowing you to wake up and meet his gaze. he extended his hand, his thumb gently stroking your face as you began to stir, emitting a soft hum as you gradually woke up to find spencer before you.
"hi, my love," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. it took a moment for everything to register, but then the earlier phone call came rushing back to your memory.
"hi," you finally responded, your voice tinged with a hint of anger. turning over, you positioned yourself with your back to him.
"i'm sorry," spencer's voice held sincerity, "i'm just incredibly stressed about this case. i promised that mother i'd find the demon who took her family away."
"you sounded so upset with me..." your voice quivered, tears welling up once more. "oh, baby, please don't cry," spencer implored, leaning closer and planting a gentle kiss on your neck. "you know how much i love you... i'd never do anything to hurt your feelings."
spencer managed to coax you to scoot over in bed, allowing him to settle right under you. somehow, you found yourself in his embrace, his arms holding you close.
"do you want to hear the quote i've chosen?" his fingers traced soothing patterns up and down your arm. you raised yourself slightly and nodded, before resting your head back on his chest.
“she looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something…. from eleanor & park by rainbow rowell.”
"do you feel something when you look at me?" you murmured softly into his chest, your fingers tracing delicate patterns on his slim stomach.
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