juniperwoodwell

[juniperwoodwell]

Can we get some more Hugh Grant & Character Fics???

I'd totally be down to writing some of my own. Any requests for any Hugh Grant Characters? Or himself?

Personally I prefer 90's Hugh & characters.

He's gorgeous 😍

[juniperwoodwell]

Slow dancing with Frank Castle.

•Honestly, I just needed this. <3

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I stood in my bedroom folding laundry as Unchained Melody played from the speaker on the dresser. The song stretched through the quiet, slow and aching. The air smelled of fresh linen, warm light pooling in the dim room.

Then, arms wrapped around my waist, firm but steady. No hesitation, no urgency—just the quiet weight of someone who needed to be here. I let out a slow breath, leaning back against him, my body settling into his without a second thought. Solid. Unmoving. A presence that carried too much but held me like I was something he could still keep safe.

The fabric in my hands was gone, discarded without a word. His hold tightened, just slightly, pulling me in until we moved together—slow, unhurried. Back to chest, we swayed to the music, letting it guide us into something softer than either of us was used to.

His breath was warm against my temple before he pressed his face into the crook of my neck, lingering there, exhaling deep. Fingers curled against my waist, rough and scarred, as if grounding himself in this moment, in me.

I let my hands drift over his, my touch featherlight as I traced the worn edges of his knuckles. My head tipped slightly against his shoulder, eyes closing as I let the weight of him settle around me. He pressed a kiss—soft, lingering—to the side of my head, his grip tightening just enough to let me know he wasn’t letting go.

The world outside was still cruel, still relentless. But here, wrapped in the arms of a man who had only ever known war, there was nothing but the slow rhythm of our breathing, the quiet sway of our bodies, and the unspoken promise that, for this moment, neither of us was alone.

This was Peace.

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[juniperwoodwell]

THE ROOFTOP

Paring: Matt Murdock X F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol usage, Implied smut but nothing is explicitly written, No use of Y/n. (I think, I could be wrong). Smug Matt. A little Angsty, a little Fluff, a little Spice.

Word Count: 4k

A/n: Wow! Hello! Been awhile since I've written a Matt fic, I got back into my Matt phase since the new show is coming out soon. So Uh, here's this! Might make a second part for either 🥵 or to explain the history they have.

Late night. New York City. Endless possibilities.

Except the one I want.

My friends dragged me out of the house with the excuse of, "You’ve been cooped up in here for weeks!" If only they knew the real reason why.

The absence of the masked vigilante stung more than I cared to admit. So when they brought me to the club, I made a beeline for the bar, slipping into the first available seat. Folding my arms under my chest, I leaned over the counter to grab the bartender’s attention. He glanced my way before offering a small smile.

"What can I get you?"

Sitting back, I returned the polite gesture. "Gin and Coke, please."

He nodded, finishing off a glass he’d been polishing. I barely had a second to let my thoughts drift before a hand landed on my shoulder. My body tensed, but I quickly relaxed at the sight of familiar blonde curls.

Maya.

I glanced over my shoulder, taking in her bouncy, blue-eyed enthusiasm. "Maya, you startled me." My voice was soft, but she brushed off my reaction.

"You’re drinking already?!" she shouted, raising her voice as the music surged louder.

I shrugged. "What can I say? I like to start early."

She gave me a look of disapproval, but I ignored it.

"We have a table if you wanna join. We’re gonna dance!"

I tilted my head, eyeing her outfit—a baby blue tank top that showed just a sliver of stomach, low-cut shorts, and a thick black belt. A pair of oversized black sunglasses sat atop her head.

This was what we called her hunting outfit.

I smirked. "Oh, I see. You’re on the prowl, huh, Maya?"

Her face flushed a rosy shade. "Nooo, I swear I’m not!" She smacked my arm in protest just as the bartender set my drink in front of me.

"Gin and Coke."

"Yeah, thanks." I picked it up, taking a sip. The familiar burn trailed down my throat, a sensation I’d come to enjoy.

Maya placed a hand on my shoulder, leaning in so I could hear her over the music. "I’m gonna go dance, but you should join us. Please? It'll be fun."

I shook my head. "Maybe later. Go have fun."

She pouted but left me alone.

I sighed, shoulders sagging as I nursed my drink. "What a night." The words slipped out to no one in particular.

I sat there, contemplating the dull weight of responsibilities—work, bills, emails I’d been putting off.

Then, someone slid into the seat beside me.

I barely reacted at first, still hunched over, one arm resting on the bar while the other held my drink. But I felt them—their presence radiated heat despite the inches between us.

Curiosity piqued, I turned my head, and my breath hitched.

The man beside me held a white cane. He wore red-lensed glasses and spoke to the bartender in a low, smooth tone. My alcohol-buzzed brain struggled to process his words, too distracted by his lips, his shoulders—everything.

My gaze shamelessly devoured every inch of him.

I was never this bold. On a normal day, I was respectful. But when he turned his head slightly in my direction, I snapped my eyes away, suddenly embarrassed.

I took a long sip of my drink, draining it.

Sliding the empty glass across the counter, I reached into my pocket for my wallet—only to freeze.

"Shit."

I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing myself.

Leaning over the counter, I apologized quickly. "I’m so sorry, I left my wallet at home—do you have an ATM here?"

Before the bartender could respond, the man beside me spoke up.

"Put it on my card."

I turned to him, startled. "N-no, it’s okay. I just need to get some cash. You don’t have to—"

He smiled. And just like that, my already fuzzy brain fogged up even more.

"It’s alright. Just pass it on."

I hesitated before finally nodding. "Alright… well, thanks."

Sliding out of my seat, I scanned the club, searching for my friends. The dance floor was a mess of bodies—sweaty, grinding, lost in the music. I spotted Maya and the girls at our table and straightened my shoulders before heading toward them, dodging wandering hands and swaying hips.

Apparently, a hoodie and black jeans weren’t enough of a deterrent.

At the table, the girls cheered when they saw me.

"Hiiiiii!" Maya was the loudest, throwing her arms around me in a hug.

I smiled, patting her back. "Hi."

She pulled away with a pout. "Find anyone yet?" I teased, sliding into the booth beside her.

Mixed responses followed—some excited, some disappointed. I just shrugged.

A sudden squeal erupted beside me as a new song started.

Before I could react, a pair of hands yanked me from the booth.

"Maya! I’m not dancing!" I yelled over the music as we reached the center of the floor.

"Oh, come on! Let go—have some fun for once in your miserable life!"

She was drunk. I knew it plain as day.

But the words still stung.

Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide with regret. "Oh my God, I didn’t mean—"

I rolled my shoulders back, forcing a nod. "Right."

She reached for me, but I stepped away.

She shouted apologies, but I didn’t hear them. I was already pushing my way through the crowd, past feverish singles and entangled couples—until my shoulder collided with something firm.

Someone.

I looked up, gasping softly.

It was him. The man from the bar.

He held a beer in one hand. The other…

I glanced at my arm, where his fingers rested.

He leaned in slightly, tilting his head. "Are you alright?"

His voice vibrated through me.

I stepped back quickly. "Y-yeah. I’m fine. Thanks."

Then, the realization hit me.

"Why is a blind guy in a nightclub?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

My eyes widened in horror as I clapped a hand over my mouth. "Oh—oh my God, I’m so sorry, I—"

He laughed.

A genuine, amused chuckle.

And just like that, I forgot how to breathe.

"Who said I was blind?" he smirked, throwing my not-so-sober brain for a loop. I tried to respond, but it came out as a confused stutter, which only made his smile widen and his laughter continue.

"Blind guys can have fun too, you know," he teased, making me roll my eyes and smile.

"I realize that, it's just… there are a lot of people and a lot of things you could run into if you're not careful."

He shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Well, I like a challenge."

I snorted out a laugh—it caught me off guard. Maybe the gin and coke was too strong tonight, or maybe I was going crazy.

"You remind me of someone I know," I said.

He tilted his head. "Oh yeah? How so?"

“I don’t know exactly…” I murmured, searching for the ghost of a memory just out of reach. “You just… feel like him.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, his head tilting slightly toward me, like he was listening for something beyond my words. “That so?” His voice was smooth, teasing, laced with a knowing amusement that sent a shiver down my spine.

Before I could piece together what felt so familiar about him, the music shifted into something slower, something that curled through the air like an invitation. His hand lifted toward me, open, expectant.

“Dance with me?”

I hesitated, my pulse stuttering for reasons I couldn’t name. But then my fingers brushed against his—warm, steady, confident—and suddenly, stepping into his space felt inevitable.

We moved easily together, the motion effortless despite the press of people around us. I guided him just slightly, but he already knew how to follow, his grip light yet assured, the sway of his body perfectly in sync with mine. He didn’t need to see the way I watched him—he could feel it, sense the shift in my breath, the way my fingers tightened in his.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, voice just audible over the music. “Thinking too hard?”

I huffed a soft laugh. “Just… trying to figure something out.”

“Mm.” His lips quirked, amused. “And?”

I studied him—how he moved with such certainty, how he never hesitated, how he tilted his head just slightly as if catching on to the things I wasn’t saying. It was in the way he held me, not just with his hands, but in the space between us, filled with something unspoken. Something I should’ve recognized.

“I just can’t put my finger on it,” I admitted.

His smirk deepened, just enough for me to feel it rather than see it. “Careful,” he said, voice dipping lower, almost conspiratorial. “You might not like the answer.”

The words sent a strange thrill through me, but before I could respond, he shifted just slightly, closing the distance between us, his breath warm near my temple. The world outside our slow-moving steps blurred—the pulse of music, the murmur of voices—until it was just us, caught in the quiet pull of something neither of us had named.

For now, I let myself stay in that moment, letting the mystery linger, the answer just out of reach.

As the song came to a slow, fading end, I felt a presence beside me before I even turned my head.

“There you are!” Maya’s voice cut through the haze, a mix of relief and impatience. “We’re heading out. You coming?”

I blinked, my fingers still loosely curled around the man’s hand. I glanced at Maya, then back at him, feeling an odd reluctance to step away just yet.

“No—It’s alright,” I said slowly. “I think I want to stay a bit, with—”

I turned back toward him, realizing I didn’t even know his name. He must’ve noticed my hesitation because a small, amused smile tugged at his lips.

“Matt,” he supplied smoothly.

I met his gaze—or rather, the space behind his red-lensed glasses—before nodding and turning to Maya. “With Matt.”

Maya gave me a knowing smirk, but she didn’t push. “Alright, just text me when you get home.” Then, with a wink, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone with Matt and the pulsing warmth still lingering between us.

He tilted his head in the direction of an empty booth near the edge of the room. “Sit with me?”

I nodded, following him as he maneuvered through the club effortlessly, despite his inability to see. He slid into the booth first, then gestured for me to sit.

Before I could say anything, he flagged down a server. “A water for her,” he said, then tapped the bottle of beer in front of him. “And I’ll finish this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Ordering for me already?”

He smirked, resting his elbow on the table. “Call it a well-educated guess.”

I huffed a quiet laugh but didn’t argue as the water was set in front of me. I took a sip before leaning forward, studying him again.

“You really do remind me of someone,” I said, picking up where we left off.

He took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down with an amused expression. “Still stuck on that, huh?”

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “You’re not making it any easier with your whole… vibe.”

He leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “My vibe?”

I waved vaguely at him. “The smugness, the teasing, the way you talk. It’s like you know something I don’t.”

His grin deepened. “Maybe I do.”

I scoffed. “See? That! That’s exactly what I mean.”

He chuckled, running a slow finger along the rim of his bottle. “And what if I just have one of those faces?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Bit of a bold claim, considering…”

His smile didn’t falter. If anything, he looked even more entertained. “Touché.”

I shook my head, sipping my water as he finished his beer. Our conversation drifted into easy banter—light, teasing, but always skirting around the edges of something unspoken. Every time I tried to place the familiarity nagging at me, he would smirk, throw out a casual remark, and steer me away before I could catch onto it fully.

Before I knew it, the club had thinned out. I sighed, stretching my arms over my head. “I should probably head home.”

Matt nodded, pushing his empty bottle aside. “Let me walk you.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You don’t have to—”

“I know.” He stood, waiting for me to do the same. “But I want to.”

Something about the way he said it, calm and matter-of-fact, made it impossible to refuse. So I didn’t.

With a small nod, I zipped up my hoodie, and together, we stepped out into the cool New York night.

As they walked, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement, I glanced at Matt with a smirk.

“You know,” I mused, tucking my hands into my jacket pockets, “I think it’s kind of ironic—a blind guy walking a girl home.”

He chuckled, the sound low and amused. “Well, you seemed pretty confident dancing with me. Figured you’d trust me to get you a few blocks safely.”

I scoffed. “Dancing in place and crossing a city street are two very different things.”

He smirked. “Not for me.”

I shook my head, laughing softly as we continued in comfortable silence. The city hummed around us, the distant sirens, the occasional honk, the steady rhythm of our steps against the sidewalk. It was strangely easy—being next to him, teasing him, letting the warmth between us linger a little longer.

Before I knew it, we were at my building. I stopped at the entrance, turning to him with a small, grateful smile. “Well… thanks for the escort, Matt.”

He gave a small nod, standing relaxed with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. “Anytime.”

I lingered for half a second before stepping inside, but just as the door started to close, his voice reached me—calm, smooth, and laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t stay up too late working on the rooftop tonight.”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat, heart hammering against my ribs.

Slowly, I turned back to face him, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

Matt stood just where I left him, head tilted slightly, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

The world around me blurred as memories slammed into me all at once—late nights on the rooftop, the crisp night air, the city stretching endlessly beneath me. The voice, the teasing remarks, the quiet laughter that always found its way into our conversations.

Him.

My lips parted, but no words came out. My throat tightened, my eyes stung, and before I could stop it, a tear slipped down my cheek.

He just stood there, waiting.

I took a shaky breath, stepping forward, my voice barely above a whisper.

“…It’s you.”

Matt’s smirk deepened ever so slightly, but he didn’t confirm or deny it. He just stood there, letting the weight of realization settle over me like thick fog.

I took another shaky step forward, my pulse a frantic drum in my ears. “You—” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to catch up. “You left.”

He exhaled through his nose, slow and measured. “I did.”

A flood of emotions crashed through me—relief, anger, confusion, something dangerously close to hope. I wiped at my cheek quickly, blinking against the rush of tears threatening to spill. “Why?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His lips pressed together, his jaw tensed. He wasn’t smirking anymore.

“I had to.” His voice was quieter now, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to hear it. “It wasn’t safe—for me or for you.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “And now it is?”

“No.” He took a step closer, the heat of his presence wrapping around me like a whisper of something I’d been missing for too long. “But I couldn’t stay away this time.”

A sharp breath left me, my throat tightening. This time.

The past year and a half of wondering, of waiting on that rooftop for a voice that never came back, of aching for something I never fully understood—it all came crashing down on me.

And now he was standing here, saying he had to leave but wanted to stay.

I shook my head again, stepping back, trying to put some kind of distance between us before I drowned in the pull of him. “I don’t— I don’t know what to do with this.” My voice was thick with emotion. “With you.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, studying me like he could see every part of me, even without his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured. “Not tonight.”

The way he said it—gentle, patient—made something in my chest crack open.

I looked away, exhaling shakily.

I could send him away. Walk inside and pretend this never happened.

But that wasn’t what I wanted.

I wanted answers. I wanted to understand why he left. Why he came back.

Why I still cared so much after all this time.

I looked up at him again. “Do you—do you want to come up?”

Matt didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

–

He followed me inside, the soft click of the door shutting behind him sending a ripple of unease through me. Not fear—never fear with him—but something heavier, something tangled between longing and disbelief.

It was the first time he’d actually stepped into my apartment, and suddenly, I saw it the way he would. Dishes stacked in the sink. Laundry baskets overflowing in the corner. Work files and unopened mail strewn across the table. A complete disaster.

I shrugged off my hoodie, tossing it onto the couch like I didn’t care. The air felt too thick, too suffocating, so I moved to the window and shoved it open. A cool night breeze rolled in, but it did little to steady my racing heart.

"I’ll make some coffee," I offered, needing something—anything—to ground me. "And maybe a snack."

Matt hummed in approval, stepping farther in. He slid off his coat, draping it over the back of a chair before following me into the kitchen. He rested his back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest in that effortlessly confident way of his.

I kept my back to him, pretending to focus on the coffee maker, but his presence pressed into me like a weight. Every inhale, every shift—it was maddening.

My thoughts spun, colliding between the past and present. Even after all this time, after already feeling his hands on me, there was still this desperate yearning to reach out—to touch him, to know he was real.

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

"Why now?" My voice came out quieter than I intended. "Why couldn’t you stay away this time?"

Silence.

It stretched long enough that doubt started creeping in, twisting in my gut. Then, finally, his voice—low, smooth, familiar—cut through the tension.

"Would you believe me if I said I missed you?"

I let out a breath, half scoff, half laugh. "I don’t know. Do you actually miss people, or do you just like messing with them?"

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and damn it, it sent something sharp through my ribs.

"Both," he admitted, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "But this time, it’s real."

I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching as I reached for a mug from the cabinet. My grip tightened around the ceramic, rolling the weight of it in my palm.

And then, instead of setting it on the counter for him, I put it back.

“Cold, sweetheart.”

“You deserve it,” I shot back, finally turning to face him.

His smirk deepened, but something flickered behind it—something I couldn’t quite place.

“Fair,” he said easily, though I could tell it amused him.

I crossed my arms. “You just decided one day to find me?”

“Not exactly.” His voice softened, the weight of something unspoken pressing between us. “I always knew where you were.”

My stomach clenched. I searched his face, trying to decide if that was meant to be comforting or unsettling.

Matt must have sensed my unease because he quickly added, “I wasn’t watching you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I narrowed my eyes, skeptical. “No? Because that sounds an awful lot like something a guy who was watching me would say.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t push. Instead, he just sighed and leaned back against the counter, tapping his fingertips idly against the surface. “I stayed away,” he murmured. “Told myself it was better that way. That you’d move on.”

I exhaled a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Move on from what?” I shook my head. “You never even told me your name.”

His jaw tensed slightly. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then—

“That was the problem,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to leave at all.”

A dull ache settled in my chest, my pulse tripping over itself.

It wasn’t fair. That he could say things like that. That he could come back after all this time and still make me feel—

I looked away, blinking hard. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

Matt chuckled, tilting his head. “So I’ve been told.”

I turned back toward the counter, eyeing the empty coffee mug I had put away. For a split second, I considered taking it back down.

But I didn’t.

I let him sit with that.

I turned, gripping the counter behind me. "So what now?"

Matt let out a slow breath, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something beyond the walls. "That depends on you."

"On me?" I scoffed. "You’re the one who left. The one who stayed away. You decided what was best for me without even asking."

His lips pressed together. "You think it was easy?" His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. "You think I wanted to disappear?"

I swallowed, my grip tightening. "I don’t know what to think, Matt. I don’t even know who you are anymore."

Something in his expression made my breath hitch. His eyes—unseeing but unwavering—pinned me in place.

"Then ask me."

I hesitated, every question I wanted to ask battling to be first.

"Did you miss me?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, soft and uncertain.

Matt’s lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected that one.

His fingers tapped against the counter once. Twice. Then stepping toward me, closing the space between us.

"I thought about you every damn night," he admitted, his voice low and unguarded. "I told myself it was for the best, that you’d be safer without me in your life." A wry smile flickered across his lips. "But then I’d hear your voice in my head, telling me I was being an idiot."

I exhaled a shaky laugh. "Sounds about right."

Matt reached out then, slowly, giving me space to pull away. When I didn’t, his fingers ghosted along my wrist, trailing up to my elbow.

"I told myself I wouldn’t come back," he murmured. "That I’d stay out of your life, no matter how much I wanted to see you again."

"Then why are you here?" My voice barely rose above a whisper.

His hand trailed higher, brushing my shoulder, then my jaw, his thumb just beneath my chin.

"Because I lost that fight."

And then his lips were on mine.

 It wasn’t tentative or careful. It was searing, a collision of every word left unsaid, every moment stolen by time and distance. 

I sucked in a breath, caught completely off guard. My hands hovered uselessly at my sides, caught between the instinct to push him away and the overwhelming need to pull him closer. For a split second, I hesitated—years of questions, of hurt, flashing through my mind. But then he let out the smallest, almost desperate sound against my lips, and I melted. 

My fingers fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him in as I kissed him back, all hesitation burned away in the heat of his touch. His hands framed my face now, holding me to him like he was afraid I’d slip through his fingers again. And Lord help me, but I didn’t want to let go either. 

The world outside ceased to exist. His hands were firm, steady, tracing along my jaw, threading into my hair as the kiss deepened. 

I felt it everywhere—his warmth, his breath, the way he moved against me like he was memorizing me all over again. I didn’t realize we were moving until my back hit the edge of the couch. He pulled me with him, guiding me through the apartment, our hands never leaving each other, fingers gripping, anchoring. 

I barely noticed when we knocked into the table, when my hoodie slipped off the couch onto the floor. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this. Matt’s lips moved to my jaw, then just below my ear, his breath sending a shiver through me. I exhaled shakily, my fingers finding the buttons of his shirt, pushing it open as we stumbled toward the hallway. 

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice rough, his forehead resting against mine for the briefest moment. 

I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I pulled him back to me, pressing my lips to his like we could make up for all the lost time in a single moment. 

We reached my bedroom door, hands roaming, bodies pressed close, the air between us electric. I reached behind me, fumbling for the doorknob, pushing it open. 

And as we stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind us, everything else faded away.

[juniperwoodwell]

Hello! I am so glad I found your page. I hope you are still taking requests.

I was thinking of one with Adam Sackler and a very level-headed significant other. Adam was always hot-headed and tended to erupt during times of argument or emotional distress. I always wondered what it would be like to have him paired with an emotionally mature girlfriend that only wants the best for him and tries to get him to open up to her and deal with his problems in a healthy manner.

I believe that the scenario can open up an opportunity for angst if during a moment when she's trying to talk him down, he throws something and she accidentally gets hurt.

The prompts that came to mind were 13. "Don't push me away." and 46. "Are we gonna talk or are you just gonna sit there and sulk?"

Thank you!

The Edge of Us

Adam Sackler x F!Reader.

Warnings: Verbal Aggression, Angst, Throwing things (Only one thing), Cursing.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Hey! Thank you so much for your request, it's such a great idea and I just had to write it!

It's not much but I made sure to add in those prompts! I hope you like it.

The argument was over something entirely stupid. Or at least, that’s how it felt to me. Adam, on the other hand? Well, he was Adam.

He sat on the couch, legs spread wide, arms crossed tightly over his chest like a defiant child. His jaw was set, brows furrowed, the storm brewing behind his eyes as obvious as the tension suffocating the room. I mirrored his posture as I stood in front of him, the coffee table acting as a barrier between us.

"You do know I have a life outside of this apartment, right?" I said, my hands finding my hips as I met his glare head-on.

He scoffed, the sound bitter, his lips twisting in that condescending way that never failed to make my blood boil. "Of course I do, but you’ve been out every night with your friends. You act like you hate me when you get home, then you completely ignore me in the morning before work."

I let out a sharp sigh, rolling my eyes. "That's such an exaggeration, Adam. I’ve gone out twice this week. Twice. And once was with my sister. We even invited you—remember? You said no. I don’t hate you. I have no idea where you’re even getting that from. But every time I come home, you’re on this couch, either glued to a game or watching something mindless. After a while? Yeah, I stopped trying to get your attention."

His posture snapped forward, the muscles in his arms flexing under his crossed grip as he stared me down. "That’s not true. Yesterday? I hugged you the second I walked through the door, and you didn’t even acknowledge me."

My voice dropped, steady but laced with growing frustration. "Yeah? You wanna know why?"

He shrugged, and the silence felt heavier than the words hanging between us.

"Because," I bit out, "two days ago, I asked you to pick up milk and bread—literally two things, Adam. Two. And when I got home, I couldn’t make dinner because you forgot. So I had to go out and do it myself, after working all day. And you? You just sat there like it was nothing."

His face twisted, mouth opening in that silent oh as his gaze dropped to the floor. He looked caught for half a second—before the stubbornness returned.

"Yeah, well, I told you I was gonna be busy that day," he muttered, voice tight, defensive.

"The store is next door, Adam. Not across town. You’re just too caught up in whatever you’re doing to care about this relationship. You do realize I can’t do everything for you, right? I’m not your mom."

That hit the nerve. I saw the shift, the way his body went rigid, the tension snapping like a wire stretched too thin.

Adam shot to his feet, the coffee table between us feeling too small all of a sudden. His brown eyes, usually warm, were sharp—cutting.

"Don’t give me that look," I warned, heart pounding faster than I wanted to admit.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous, his words practically vibrating with suppressed anger.

"You certainly act like my fucking mother, Y/n."

And just like that, the dam broke.

He grabbed something from the coffee table—something fragile. His hand closed around it too tightly, and before I could react, it shattered, the shards scattering as it just barely missed my head.

The sound echoed, sharp and final.

I stared at him, my body tense but my eyes steady, unsurprised.

“Oh, so we’re throwing things now? That's how we get our point across? Real mature, Adam.”

My voice was calm, but I took a step back as he rounded the coffee table, the tension in his movements coiling tighter, heavier.

We stood chest to chest, his face inches from mine. He was taller, broader, glaring down at me with those wild, furious eyes, his breathing ragged like he was barely holding it together. But me? I didn’t flinch. I didn’t cower.

He was a storm trying to swallow the room whole, and I refused to get swept up in it.

“Screw you, Y/n.” The words came out in a low snarl, venom lacing every syllable. His face twisted with something ugly—hurt masked as anger, the kind he didn’t know how to express.

Then, like the child he was acting like, he tore his glare away, shoulder checking me just enough to prove his point before storming down the hall.

The bedroom door slammed hard enough to rattle the walls.

I exhaled, a long, slow breath as the silence pressed back in. My hand dragged over my face, fingertips pressing into my temples in irritation.

So much noise. So much anger.

And yet, nothing had actually been said.

I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back as I steadied myself. This had to be solved—now—or we’d just keep spiraling further apart.

The tension still clung to the air, thick and stifling, but I refused to let it settle.

With careful, measured steps, I approached the bedroom door. My knuckles rapped lightly against the wood, the sound hollow in the silence.

"Don't shut me out," I said softly, voice calm but firm as I reached for the handle.

It turned under my grip.

The door eased open with a quiet creak, revealing him hunched over on the edge of the bed. His elbows rested on his knees, his head bowed, hands tangled in his hair.

The anger that had fueled him minutes before seemed to have burned itself out, leaving only this—defeated. Raw.

"Get out," he grumbled, voice muffled and rough, like he was barely holding the cracks together.

I didn't move.

"Are we gonna talk," I asked, keeping my voice steady, "or are you just gonna sit there and sulk?"

His head snapped up.

There it was again—that flash of fire in his eyes, a spark reigniting. "Sulk? Really?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, but it was brittle, the edge dulled by whatever he was holding back.

"Yeah. Sulk." I crossed my arms, standing my ground even as his glare sharpened. "This—" I gestured to him, slouched and brooding, "—is sulking. You're mad? Fine. Be mad. But throwing things? Storming off? That's not solving anything, Adam."

His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as his hands curled into fists.

"You don’t get it—"

"Then explain it to me!" I interrupted, voice rising just enough to cut through his. "Stop shutting me out and tell me what you're so pissed off about!"

Silence.

For a heartbeat, I thought he was going to lash out again. His breathing was harsh, his chest rising and falling as if he was physically holding back the words.

And then, his face crumpled.

His shoulders sagged, head dropping back into his hands, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, cracked.

"You make it so damn easy to feel…invisible."

That stopped me cold.

The anger I'd been clinging to slipped through my fingers, replaced by something heavier.

"Adam…" I softened, taking a hesitant step closer.

But he shook his head, as if rejecting the comfort before I could even offer it.

"I see you going out, smiling, laughing. And I’m just—here. Stuck in my head. And I hate it. I hate feeling like I don’t matter to you anymore."

I felt my chest tighten, his words striking deeper than I expected.

"You do matter to me. But you can't just…explode every time you feel like you're being ignored. You have to talk to me, Adam. Not break things. Not shut me out."

His head lifted, eyes meeting mine. The anger was gone now, leaving only hurt and frustration in its place.

"I'm trying," he whispered.

"So am I," I whispered back.

[juniperwoodwell]

Hi, how are you? Do you accept Keanu's fanfiction requests? If yes, what are your rules?

Hello! Sorry this response took so long! Yes, you can refer to my Masterlist for all the Keanu Reeves Characters I will write for.

And as for rules, I only do Gn or Female for X reader, I don't do OCs and I don't take requests for smut but will write it if I feel it's necessary for the story.

I won't do Yandere but I will write Angst,Fluff, Bittersweet, and I won't write for underage characters.

Thank you so much for asking!

-Juni

[juniperwoodwell]

any keanuverse character x F! reader, blurb

i have no one in particular for this one, so imagine whoever you like, it's not my fav

Y/n sat across from him at the ice cream parlor, they had ice cream sundaes in front of them.

The atmosphere around them was playful and sweet.

She watched as he reached across the table and plucked her cherry off her sundae by its stem, he smiled at her as he put it between his teeth, he pulled the stem and the cherry rolled into his mouth.

Y/n feigned an upset gasp, placing her hand over her heart in offence. "How dare you Pop my cherry."

The man in front of her snorted out a laugh, tipping his head backwards from the force of it. "Bad, bad, girl," He smiled at her then took his own cherry and held it out to her.

She opened her mouth and he placed it on her tongue, she closed her lips around it and he pulled the stem away. "There, now you've popped mine. We're even."

They paid no mind to the irritated stares from the people around them. All that mattered to them was the warmth they felt in their chests.

[juniperwoodwell]

john constantine blurb x f!reader

Constantine laid on top of the bed, his eyes shut and arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles. Y/n was cooking lunch, she moved away from the now plated sandwiches, taking one with her as she tiptoed over to John.

She looked down at him and smiled, she held the plate in one hand and used the other to sign a cross from her forehead then shoulders. "May you rest in peace. Not in pieces."

John slowly opened his eyes, brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

The woman let out a short laugh and held out the plate to him, "Lunch is ready. Let's eat sleepyhead"

Constantine sat up, took the plate from her and placed it on the bed before he grabbed her hips– he stood from the bed and pushed her back carefully, a sly smirk playing in his lips.

"Thank you, honey. You look delicious."

[juniperwoodwell]

-Summer of the Buzz cut-

•90's! Keanu Reeves x F!Reader.

•2k words, spur of the moment.

•Smut, MDI, F&M receiving, blowjob, fingering, very fluffy, poor editing. Etc, lmk if I missed anything.

A/N: First ever smut so go easy on me if this sucks, it's 1 am and idk what I'm doing. Thought this would be pretty hot, I got the idea from a song called "Buzz Cut" By lovelytheband and MisterWives. Oh and Tumblr formatted this weird from docs and I'm too tired to fix it right now. Enjoy!

It was gone. Completely gone.

I was devastated when he showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night with his signature goofball smile.

The shock on my face made him laugh so loud he probably woke my neighbors. “What did you do!?” I exclaimed, pulling him into my apartment- more like yanking him.

He smirked up at me as he plopped down on my couch, I put my hands on my hips and looked at him over, my silk night dress bunching slightly. “What do you think?” He asked,

“What do I think? Keanu. You buzzed your hair!” He laughed again, though this time he seemed a little self-conscious.

When he settled he sat up straight and grabbed my wrists, pulling me towards him. “You don’t like it then?” when he asked I shrugged, I didn’t know what I thought. I was so used to seeing him with his soft fluffy hair that this was unfamiliar. “I-...It’s not fluffy anymore.” I tried not to pout but my voice gave me away, he smiled and took my hands in his then laid them onto his head, I chuckled as I threaded my fingers through the now short hair. “It’s still soft, baby, plus- It’ll grow back.” He tried to comfort me even though I now caught onto his mild sadness. I bit my lip in thought as I looked down at him, he loosely wrapped his arms around my waist as I massaged the back of his head.

An idea popped into my head and I quickly avoided his gaze. “You okay, babe?”

I nodded then met his eyes, a playful smile on my lips as I spoke. “It’s just…Now that it’s so short I won’t be able to use it to my advantage– if you get what I mean.” It took him a moment but his eyes widened when he realized. He snorted out a laugh and hid his face in my chest as he chuckled. I tried to grip his hair but it was too short, he looked up at me as I pouted,

“Aw come on baby, don’t pout. No matter how short or long my hair is–” A mischievous glint in his eyes made me cautious of his next words. “–you’ll still be grabbing at it when I’m down between those pretty thighs of yours.” I gasped and playfully smacked his shoulder and he groaned as he rolled his eyes. “Oh- Of course you can make a naughty joke but I can’t?”

I teasingly raised a brow at him and he gripped my waist pulling me down onto his lap, I straddled his thighs as he leaned back against the couch. We sat for a few moments, just basking in each other's presence, I brushed my fingers through his hair again and his eyes fluttered shut. “Well…at least that’ll never change.” I mumbled softly, and a smile crept onto my lips. His thumbs drew patterns on my silk-covered hips as I resumed the massage to his scalp. “Bet this feels like a breath of fresh air, huh?” I asked, he grunted as he nodded.

“Yeah I bet, You’re still so handsome though. I guess you’re just that lucky.” I teased him before bending down to kiss his cheek, his arms wrapped around my waist, and pulled me flush against him. My hands moved to his shoulders.

“You still think I'm handsome even like this?” He asked, I tilted my head– confusion written on my features. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just hair, Keaner.”

He shrugged, “It’s nothing, You’re right.” He smiled but I knew it was forced.

“I was surprised when you showed up but I’m digging it now. Honest. It’s very sexy– and you look even cuter when you smile.” I subconsciously pushed an invisible strand of hair behind his ear and we both laughed,

“That’ll take some time getting used to.” He nodded and kissed my shoulder, “The real question is…Do you like it?” I asked,

“I’m gonna have to, I need it for the movie.” I clicked my tongue and nodded, “I’ll always admire your dedication to your roles, what a special boy you are.” He rolled his eyes playfully and brushed his fingers against my sides–

My eyes widened, “Don’t start Reeves. We’ll end up on the floor like last time.” He batted his eyes innocently “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Babe.” As he finished his words his hands attacked my sides and stomach as I erupted in a fit of giggles. I tried to push away but he was too strong, he smiled up at me and let me go when I begged him enough.

My face was flushed red and my breathing was rapid, I smacked his shoulder softly. “See- We’re not on the floor this time.” I groaned and pulled his face to mine in a desperate kiss.

Tongues and teeth clashing, Hands roaming– Aching to feel the warm skin of the other. Keanu lifted his arms, pulling from the kiss as I lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room, his lips were back on mine in an instant. My hands trailed from his shoulders down his chest and to his belt. His hips bucked up as I teased my fingers past the waistband of his jeans.

“C’mon, babe...Play nice” He groaned out against my lips, I pulled away and smirked. “Oh-...Like you did?” I traced my thumb over his growing erection, I watched as his eyes shut and his tongue ran over his lips in anticipation. Slowly I began to rub my palm over him, his hips bucked again, He was getting impatient. I trailed my hands over his hips before undoing his belt, agonizingly slow. His hands gripped my hips, bunching the fabric there as I rubbed him through his boxers– I observed his expression as I finally reached in and released him from them. His face softened but tensed suddenly as I began to move my hand, gently rolling my wrist and palming his tip. A grunt left his lips and his breathing picked up quickly as my hand did the same.

“Does that feel good baby?” My voice was quiet and sweet, he bucked up into my hand, “Yes, fuck- yes. Please” I smiled at his gentle begging, “Mm…Please what?”

Keanu opened his eyes, a silent plea in his big brown eyes. “I need you- I need to be inside you baby.” I flicked my thumb over his furious tip as I smeared the pre-cum over it– his head rolled back as a broken moan fell from his lips. Three weeks of pent-up emotion made him very sensitive. I smiled and kissed his jaw– I quickened my pace and I could tell he was getting close, his voice got louder as I kissed and sucked hard the spot behind his ear. “Baby- I- I’m close, please–” His voice was desperate and his hands tightened on my hips, I allowed him a few more seconds before I removed my hand from him.

Never in my life had I heard Keanu whimper, until now. His head snapped up– eyes open wide in surprise. I folded my arms over my chest as I spoke. “How’s that taste?”

His expression darkened as he flipped me down onto the couch, his hands pinned down my wrists as his brown eyes stared deeply into mine. “That's how you want to play this game, sweetheart?” His tone was laced with an intoxicating venom that I couldn't resist. I batted my eyes innocently at him and he scoffed, a smirk on his lips. “Alright, fine. I won't stop even if you beg. You've poked the bear and now you're paying for it” His words sent a chill down my spine and I felt my skin flush.

He released my hands and began by moving my night dress over my hips. He inhaled deeply, "What a sight for sore eyes…” he said as he ran a finger through my folds, my hips bucked up against his hand though he didn't tolerate that so he used his other hand to keep them still as he began to rub my clit with his thumb. I shut my eyes tightly at the feeling– quickly becoming overwhelmed by it, I moaned loudly when he inserted two thick fingers inside, I craved the feeling. “Look at me.” He spoke, his tone serious and when I didn't listen he grabbed my chin with the hand that was in my hip and shook my face gently, “Look. At. Me.” His voice grew deeper and I opened my eyes to meet his. His fingers continued their assault– increasing in speed when he found the perfect spot. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my back arched off the couch at the feeling.

He chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on my cheek “Does that feel good, baby?” He mimicked me from before and it made me cry out in pleasure, his mouth moved from my cheek down to my silk-covered breasts. His tongue licked at one of my stiffened nipples then he sucked it into his mouth. I felt sparks light up my body and goosebumps litter my skin– I was close and he knew it well. I teetered on the edge, “You see sweetheart…I'm not cruel like you– so, I'll be kind and let you finish” he spoke against my chest before moving to the other breast. His free hand started to rub my bundle of nerves and I saw stars. He tipped me over the edge and it was heavenly– my body shivered and I gasped for air as I came on his hand but he didn't stop, he continued to help me ride out my high until my body stilled.

He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his eye level, he spread them and watched as my cum stretched between them– He groaned before he put them to my lips, I took them willingly. I tasted myself on them, it was bittersweet and I loved it. I looked into his eyes as I sucked on his fingers, making sure to clean them completely.

“How’s that taste?” He teased as

He pulled them out with a pop, and smiled down at me. He brushed some sweat soaked hair from my face, “Ready for more baby? Because I think you owe me.”

I nodded and he pulled me up into a sitting position, he leaned back against the couch and spread his legs as he pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees. I trailed my eyes from his, down his body and to his throbbing cock, I groaned at the sight.

“I want that pretty mouth of yours around me.” I met his eyes and he put a hand on the back of my head, gently threading his fingers through my hair. I nodded as I moved from the couch to in between his legs, I took off his pants and boxers completely before I placed my hands on his leaking member.

He grunted as I began to stroke him with both hands, I moved in closer and started to swirl my tongue around the head of his cock– he tasted tangy. Slowly I began to take him into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks and flexing the muscles in my throat. His hand found my hair again and he began to push me down further– causing me to take more of him. I moaned around him as he hit the back of my throat, he bucked his hips up and I gagged but he didn't let up.

My hands braced on his thighs as he fucked my throat, tears pricked at my eyes.

He gripped my hair and pulled me off him, I looked up at him through tear stained eyes and his expression was soft. “Poor thing…Come here” He grabbed my biceps and pulled me up onto his lap, his cock pressed against my belly. He held my face with both hands and brushed hair away from my face before pulling me in for a sweet kiss, his hands moved to my hips and he lifted them up. I helped guide his cock to my center and he pushed me down onto him firmly, my head snapped back in a silent moan– he groaned against my neck. He was anything but gentle now, his hips slammed up into me, my breasts bouncing at the force of it. His lips attacked my neck as he kissed, sucked and nipped at it in all the right places.

My hands grabbed at his short hair and his were leaving crescent shapes into my hips from the strength he was holding me. I moaned as he hit that spongy spot that brought stars to my eyes, “I’m c-...Fuck- close. Please,please, please!” I cried out. “I know- me too baby” he grunted out.

The strap of my night dress slipped down to reveal my breast, Keanu bent forward and took it into his mouth, arching my body back in the perfect position– white hot sparks ran through me in an instant, I clawed at his shoulders and my body shook violently as I came for the second time, coating his cock in my cum. His pace quickened and he groaned against my breast, one final thrust and he spilled into me, his face hidden in my neck– he held me there as he filled me completely with hot ropes of cum, I could feel it dripping out of me. Our breathing was labored as we came down from our highs.

Keanu pulled back from my neck and looked at me, a smile on his lips. I huffed out a laugh as he leaned back and pulled me down against him, “Maybe I should get a haircut more often?”

Playfully I smacked his shoulder and he chuckled, “ Or maybe you should just come home more…”

Keanu reached over and grabbed the blue throw blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over top of us. His cock began to soften in me but he didn't dare move, his hands rubbed up and down my back soothingly- I yawned exhaustely, one of my hands rubbed the back of his head. “You were right, I still found a way-” He laughed softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Told you so.”

•

thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it- Juni <3

[juniperwoodwell]

I IMMEDIATELY SAID "OOOH BIG STRETCH!" LIKE HE WAS A CAT OR SOMETHING 😂😂😂

Keanu did his morning exercise in front of a gym in Hollywood on January 3, 2008.

[juniperwoodwell]

It's still funny 🤣

🎶Do a Dollop of Dolma 🎶

I made this today and everytime I see it I laugh hysterically, I just had to post it here 😂😂😂

[juniperwoodwell]

Y/n- suddenly lifting her head up from under her pillow: "Did we ever figure out why Jack fell down the hill?"

John- Opens an eye as he stares at her: "What?" He grumbles.

Y/n- Sits back on her heels and she looks down at him: "You know, Jack and Jill? Why did Jack fall down the damn hill? How even?? I mean did he slip when he got to the well then fell down the hill and cracked his head on a rock on the way down? OR did we just get the timeline of events mixed up? Like what if Jack slipped at the well, cracked his head on it and fell down the hill then Jill- being concerned decides to roll down after him because it's the fastest way to him?"

John- Takes a deep breath. "I don't know, Honey. Why don't you go back to sleep and dream about it?"

Y/n- Groans into her pillow irritatedly: "I need answers!"

John-: "You need sleep."

(Might delete later, idk what this is it's 2:30 in the morning😂)

[juniperwoodwell]

Depression has really been kicking my ass lately and I've been trying to write something with Keanu or his characters but I just can't do it. I have really been kicking myself because I've only written one thing for him, I want to do more but my mind is so preoccupied.

I'm so sorry to all of you Keanu fans, hopefully I'll be able to write again soon. I am working on something for Keanu but it's not great and it is taking a long time, Haha.

I love reading everyone's stories, it really brightens my day so I hope you all can find the inspiration and motivation to keep on writing!

-Love, Juni.

[juniperwoodwell]

I've been thinking that if Dean and Sam had middle names, what would they be?

I know some people say Dean's is Michael/Matthew and Sam's is Joseph/William . But what if it's actually more obvious ?

My father's middle name is James because that was my Grandfathers first name so what if it's the same for them?

Since Dean is the eldest he would have his father's first name as his middle name.

Dean John (maybe Jonathan) Winchester.

And since Sam already has his grandfathers first name, maybe they used John's father's name for him.

Samuel Henry Winchester.

But that's just a theory a ga- sorry lol

*edit: What if that's actually true? Since their first names are from Mary's parents, maybe their middle names are from Johns side.

Let me know what you think! Is it a good hypothesis or just something to throw in the trash bin. Thanks for reading!

[juniperwoodwell]

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle-K"

*it's literally my first time seeing a Circle-K... I'm ashamed to say I didn't know they existed Irl. I got so excited when I saw it. I'm from the East Coast 🤣

[juniperwoodwell]

I've got a Keanu request for anyone to take up.

I'm currently on vacation by myself for the first time and I'm super overwhelmed with everything, I keep having random bursts of tears and crying fits. I feel like a child lol.

So I want to request a F!Reader X Keanu Reeves fic where Keanu is just his sweet self and helps reassure, calm and comfort the reader through her emotions/anxieties.

Preferably a younger Keanu like before his John wick movies.

I would like it to be fluff but you can add other aspects as well.

With love,

-Juni

[juniperwoodwell]

Exhausted

Welcome to the first post of my Keanuverse writings! This was a request from @scarlettspectra! I gave myself the goal of 1k words for each character since I'm still learning how to write for them(which I achieved), it's not my best work but I had a ton of fun writing! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing(s): Neo (Thomas Anderson) x F!Reader. Aged up!Ted Theodore Logan x F!Reader. Tom Ludlow x F!Reader

Word count: 3,383k

WARNINGS: use of Y/n, Cursing, suggestive flirting, fluff, a bit of angst, minor references to death, aged up Ted (18-19), most likey OOC for all three.

Notices: For Tom's story it is written in first person. Not sure if they even count as fluff. And I'm not sure why all of them end with sleep... I'm just that exhausted I guess.

-

"Neo" Thomas Anderson.

“Where’s Y/n?” Neo’s voice cut through the hum of conversation in the rec room of their ship. Trinity's shrug was almost imperceptible, but Neo caught it.

“Where do you think?” She didn’t need to elaborate; they all knew Y/n's penchant for losing herself in her work. Neo nodded, understanding, and made his way to find her.

Y/n lay in a chair, her brow smoothed out in sleep, her breaths soft and even. Neo stood beside her, the dim lights casting shadows across her face. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the strands of her hair, a stark contrast to the constant chaos of their reality.

“What does she even do there?” Neo asked Morpheus, who had been waiting nearby.

The older man’s laugh rumbled low. “Whatever she wants. It’s her construct, her rules.”

Neo observed her for a moment longer before making his decision. “Want to join her?” Morpheus asked, knowing the answer already.

When Neo entered Y/n's construct, he was greeted by a world unlike anything he had seen in the Matrix. Towering skyscrapers were replaced by lush trees, the cacophony of the city silenced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds.

“Neo, what a surprise.” Y/n's voice reached him before he spotted her, nestled beneath a tree, bathed in the warm glow of simulated sunlight. He approached, the soft grass yielding beneath his boots. She patted the spot beside her, and Neo couldn't refuse. As he settled next to her, Y/n leaned against him, their connection tangible in the serene stillness.

“What are you working on?” Neo gestured towards the notebook nestled in her lap, his eyes lingering on the sketches and notes scrawled within its pages.

“Her,” Y/n replied softly, nodding towards a figure seated at a nearby picnic table, engrossed in a book.

“Your mother?” Neo asked, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Y/n nodded, her gaze distant. “Trying to capture her essence, her spirit. It’s proving more challenging than I anticipated.”

Neo pulled her closer, a silent understanding passing between them. He admired her resilience, her determination to resurrect a piece of her past.

“Tell me what you've achieved,” Neo encouraged, eager to share in her triumphs.

“Well, her physical appearance is mostly accurate, but...” Y/n trailed off, a shadow crossing her features. “But her presence, her aura... that’s proving elusive.”

Neo listened, his heart aching for her. Despite their reality, Y/n persisted in her quest for connection, for closure.

“I feel like I'm at my wit's end,” Y/n admitted, her frustration palpable.

Neo stood, offering his hand. “Let's walk,” he suggested, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hand in hand, they wandered through the idyllic landscape, the sun casting long shadows across the grass.

“Wits end, huh?” Neo teased gently, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

Y/n rolled her eyes, her laughter echoing in the tranquil surroundings. “A bit dramatic, I suppose.”

As they walked, Neo couldn’t help but admire Y/n's simplicity, her authenticity in a world built on deceit.

“What made you finally decide to join me?” Y/n asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Neo glanced down at her, his gaze softening. “Curiosity, I suppose. And maybe a bit of... admiration.”

They paused, the world around them shimmering with an ethereal beauty. Neo pulled Y/n close, her warmth seeping into his bones.

As their lips drew near, a jarring ring cut through the peaceful scene. Reality beckoned, but for a moment longer, they lingered in their shared sanctuary.

A few hours after departing the simulation, Y/n navigated the ship's corridor, her steps weary but determined. As she reached her room, she found Neo leaning casually against the doorframe, his presence both comforting and electrifying. “Neo…” she breathed his name, a mixture of longing and anticipation hanging in the air. “Got a moment?” he asked, his voice a low murmur in the dimly lit hallway. She nodded, her resolve wavering in the face of his magnetic pull. “For you? Always,” she replied, her voice a whisper carried on the currents of their shared reality.

Once inside her quarters, Y/n settled onto her bed, the weight of the day settling around her like a heavy shroud. Neo joined her, his presence a grounding force amidst the chaos of their world.

As she removed her shoes, his eyes traced her movements, a silent acknowledgment of the strength she carried within her. When she turned to face him, his touch was urgent, his lips meeting hers with a fierce intensity that ignited a fire within her soul.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the boundaries of their reality blurring as they became lost in the ecstasy of their connection. It was a sanctuary, a brief respite from the trials that awaited them beyond the confines of their shared embrace.

As they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Y/n's heart soared, her desire for him consuming her entirely. Neo's laughter echoed in the quiet of the room as he trailed kisses along her jaw, his touch a balm to her restless soul.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, a hint of regret in his eyes. Y/n protested, her need for him palpable in the air between them. “If we continue, you'll never rest,” he cautioned, his voice a gentle reminder of the responsibilities that awaited them.

Y/n met his gaze with defiance, her determination unwavering in the face of his gentle admonishment. “That's not for you to decide,” she countered, her voice a whisper against the backdrop of their shared intimacy.

Neo's smirk was both infuriating and endearing as he regarded her, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of admiration and desire. “Very well,” he conceded, his fingers trailing along her cheek. “Let's rest, for now.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes alight with mischief as she draped her arms around his neck. “Agreed,” she murmured, pulling him close for one final kiss before surrendering to the call of sleep.

As Neo guided her beneath the covers, Y/n felt a sense of peace wash over her, his touch a soothing balm against the chaos of their days. “Will you stay?” she asked, her voice a soft plea in the darkness.

Neo nodded, his gaze unwavering as he ran his fingers along her back. “Of course,” he replied, his voice a whisper against the silence of the night.

As Y/n drifted into sleep, Neo remained by her side, his presence a steadfast reminder of the love they shared amidst the tumult of their existence. In the warmth of their embrace, they found solace, a sanctuary amidst the storm.

And as the world faded into darkness, they surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep, their dreams intertwined in the tapestry of their shared existence.

Ted Theodore Logan

-

Ted’s joyful greeting interrupted Y/n’s intense focus, her eyes reluctantly leaving the dense textbook pages. With a weary smile, she raised her gaze to meet his, her exhaustion evident.

"How’s it going, babe!" Ted’s tone brimmed with joy as he slid into the seat beside her, his presence a welcome distraction.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm, though she couldn’t hide her weariness. "Very... Very slowly," she sighed, running her hands down her face in exhaustion.

Ted's mischievous grin widened as he settled beside her, his excitement palpable.

As she looked at him, a mix of concern and curiosity flickered in her eyes. "What are you planning?" she asked cautiously, bracing herself for one of Ted’s wild ideas. His grin grew wider, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I’ve just had the most excellent idea, dudette. Let’s go!" With a swift motion, he grabbed her hand, pulling her up from her seat, his enthusiasm contagious.

Y/n hesitated, her responsibilities tugging at her conscience. "Ted Theodore Logan! I can’t just leave; I’ve got a paper due in the morning," she protested weakly, knowing deep down that Ted’s persuasion was hard to resist. But his determination was unwavering, and before she knew it, she found herself grabbing her jacket as Ted dragged her along to the Circle-K.

Standing before the familiar store, Y/n couldn't help but voice her skepticism. "Really, Ted? The Circle-K again?" Her hands found their way to her hips, her gaze fixed on the unassuming sign above.

Ted shrugged, undeterred by her doubt. "I know, I know. But tonight, we embark on a daring quest: to conquer every slushie flavor they possess!" Y/n couldn’t suppress a laugh at his infectious enthusiasm. "Alright, dude. But this time, you’re footing the bill... with your pretzel money," she teased, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

With a theatrical flourish, Ted swung the door open, bowing as Y/n entered with a mock curtsy, their banter echoing through the aisles as they filled their cups with an array of vibrant colors. But by the time they added the cola flavor, the mix turned a dark purple—not a very appetizing color. Y/n handed Ted her slushie and told him she’d go get some snacks. They met at the counter and pulled out all their loose money. Ted refused to let Y/n spend a dime on anything tonight, so she negotiated a penny, which he agreed to because he couldn’t argue with her logic.

Exiting the store, they embarked on their customary leisurely stroll home, tongues stained and spirits high. Ted's tongue became the subject of Y/n's laughter, prompting a playful exchange as they walked hand in hand. Ted stuck out his tongue, and Y/n laughed loudly. "Your tongue is so purple!"

"You should see yours!" he countered as he nudged her shoulder. She nudged him back a little harder, then bolted ahead. Ted followed after her, catching her with his free hand and pulling her into him. "You’re mine now, babe!"

Their journey led them to Y/n's backyard and her cherished treehouse, adorned with twinkling lights. It was her sanctuary, a haven away from the chaos of the world.

Ted sat down on one of the three beanbag chairs on the floor of the treehouse. They hadn’t had much time together lately. Y/n had been sent to an all-girls high school after getting into trouble too many times, being the third member of a certain-rockin'-duo. Ted and Bill had blamed themselves for a while, but now, they all had their own paths. Y/n was an A-student, and the boys were still very passionate about their band.

Y/n sat on the floor beside the window, next to where Ted was sitting. She looked out toward her house; her parents were in the dining room building a puzzle. 'How boring' she thought.

"Y/n," Ted’s usually bouncy, aloof demeanor wasn’t present in his voice. When she looked over at him, she saw the vulnerability she saw in him when he was around his father. "Yeah, Teddy?" The rare use of that nickname caused his heart to race. Only she could call him that, only Y/n. He looked away and shook his head, finishing off his slushie. Y/n sat up and placed her hand on his knee. "What’s wrong?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"I- It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it," he quickly smiled to cover up his sullen attitude. "That won’t cut it. Tell me, or I’m kicking you out." He laughed. "Again!? But I just got pardoned!" he exclaimed gleefully.

Y/n stood up, her hands on her hips. "Teddy, I’m going to sit down." She spoke but didn’t give him a chance to respond. She straddled his hips, causing them to sink further into the beanbag. Ted’s face erupted in red, his ears, cheeks, and neck red as a tomato.

"Talk." She crossed her arms, knowing this was like Wonder Woman's lasso of truth to him.

Ted groaned, a mix of surprise and irritation. "Fine. I was gonna tell you anyway! You didn’t need to..." He motioned to her hips. She raised a curious brow, and his head fell back. "You’re acting like I don’t do this all the time." His head snapped back up, and he glared at her playfully, his hair looking wilder than usual. Y/n reached forward to thread her fingers through it. Ted’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling.

"I miss you," he admitted softly, his hands finding their places on her hips. Y/n’s face softened in understanding. "Oh- I see… I have been really busy, haven’t I?" Ted nodded. Y/n continued to play with his hair. "You haven’t been around; even Bill misses you."

Y/n hummed. "Yes, I bet he does. But my sweet boyfriend misses me more, doesn’t he?"

"More than anything," his words were slow and mumbled. He was exhausted; this was probably weighing on him more than he realized.

Y/n removed herself from his lap; his hands reached for her as he groaned in protest. "Hold on for a sec, babe." Y/n spoke sweetly as she moved to open the trunk in the corner of the treehouse.

She pulled out a thick, fuzzy blanket and then moved back over to Ted. She sat down in his lap, her legs draped over his, and her head rested on his shoulder as she put the blanket over them. "Teddy, I’ll try and make more time for you and Bill. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was neglecting you." He shrugged tiredly, a goofy, tired smile on his lips, his eyes still shut as he struggled to keep his head up. "It’s totally cool, babe, no worries," she smiled at his words, allowing sleep to consume her.

Tom Ludlow

-

The sun was setting over LA, casting a warm glow that enveloped the balcony of my apartment. The fading daylight's gentle warmth kept me company as I lounged outside. A cold glass of iced tea sat on the table beside me, the ice cubes clinking softly as they melted. It was 7 o’clock, and I waited patiently, soaking in the tranquility of the evening.

Thirty minutes passed, and finally, the door to my apartment swung open and then slammed shut. "I’m home," my boyfriend's rough, tired voice echoed through the space. I rose from my chair on the balcony and made my way inside. "Green, Yellow, or Red?" I inquired, our signal for the mood we were in after work: Green for great, Yellow for moderate, Red for really shitty. I found him by the front door, shrugging off his coat. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Red. Bright fucking red," he grumbled. I nodded silently, understanding that it was my cue to let him set the pace. When he turned to face me, his shoulders visibly softened. "Look at you. Did you dress up for me, or?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. Even on Red days, we didn't bring our troubles home; they stayed on the doorstep. But we would address them eventually.

I smiled and shrugged, playfully turning away and heading towards the kitchen, with his heavy footsteps trailing behind me. His favorite meal awaited him on the table, along with a beer at his usual spot. He chuckled as he took in the spread. "You're amazing," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and kissing the top of my head. I leaned into him, and he embraced me tightly, seeking solace.

"Don’t tiptoe around me tonight; I’ll be alright," he confessed, turning me to face him. His eyes scanned me from head to toe. I wore his favorite outfit—not too flashy, just the right mix of sweet and sexy. "Shall we eat?" I nodded, kissing the corner of his mouth, feeling his hands softly gripping my hips. I could tell he needed to unwind, and I was determined to help him relax.

So we sat down to dinner. I held a glass of wine in my hand while he nursed his first beer. Across from each other at the dining table, he turned the attention to me. "How was your day, sweetheart?" he inquired. I hummed, "Boring. Forced leave is stupid." He rolled his eyes. "You fell down a flight of stairs and had a mild concussion. I think it’s justified," he remarked. I scoffed, "I wouldn’t be here if I had just bought those new shoes you told me to." Tom chuckled, taking a long sip from his bottle. My wine remained barely touched.

"You're worried," he stated, knowing me like the back of his hand. He could read me like a book, even from the day we met. "Yes... I mean, you rarely have Red days anymore, so of course I’m worried," I confessed. He nodded, understanding, placing the bottle on the table before standing up from his seat. Standing beside me, he lifted my chin and kissed me tenderly. I melted into his embrace; I was supposed to be the one to relax him, not the other way around.

He pulled me up from my seat, guiding me to the living room as he peppered kisses along my jawline. His warmth enveloped me as his body pressed against mine. Sitting me on the couch, he knelt in front of me, and I tilted my head, curious. He smirked, "I can’t let my girl get stressed over me," he declared, his knuckles brushing against my ankles as he slipped off my heels. My eyes brimmed with affection as I watched him. What a sap. I chuckled at the thought, and his gaze met mine, his smile genuine.

"What’s so funny?" he inquired. I shook my head, smiling. His eyes darkened, locking onto mine like a predator eyeing its prey. Tossing my shoes aside, he stood up, maintaining his intense gaze. "I won’t ask again," he asserted with feigned authority. "You're a sap," I teased. He laughed, a genuine, happy sound. Surprised, he smiled. "A sap, huh? Why don’t you slip into something comfy, and I’ll come find you in the bedroom."

I nodded and stood, grabbing his hand and giving him a brief kiss before darting off to our shared bedroom. "Comfy" meant wearing his shirt and a pair of PJ shorts. I sat on the bed, organizing my bedside table, removing empty pill bottles and water bottles. This room had become my sanctuary during my leave, but I had let it become cluttered. As I threw away the last bottle, Tom entered the room. His expression was soft, and I noticed his hands were damp.

"Did you wash the dishes?" I asked. He nodded. "Oh, Tommy, you didn’t have to," I said, touched. He shrugged, "It gave me some time to think. Ready for bed?" I nodded wearily, then crawled under the covers. I watched him as he shut the bedroom door and began undressing, but he disappeared into the bathroom to change. "Tease!" I exclaimed, hearing his deep chuckle from the other side of the door. "Nothing you haven’t seen before, baby," he quipped.

When he emerged, he wore a pair of low-waisted black sweatpants. Nothing else. It was warm, and I didn't blame him. He climbed into bed, and we leaned against the headboard, me nestled against him with a book in hand. He turned on the TV, the volume low, quickly finding a rerun of an old TV show. This was our routine. If we weren’t tired, I would read while he watched something.

Tucked against his chest, I read my book. "How many is this?" he asked. "Four. Hopefully, next weekend I’ll have finished the fifth one," I replied. He hummed, kissing my head. "We lost an officer today. He was just a kid. It really hit me hard, and I’m not sure why," he confessed. I placed my book face down, looking up at him. "Oh, baby…" I caressed his face, kissing his cheek. He held my hand, kissing my palm.

"I’ll be alright. I’m taking the day off tomorrow. It’ll be just us," he assured me. I smiled, nuzzling back into him. "I like the sound of that. A day of infinite possibilities." We relaxed into each other, my book untouched, and the TV left on. A peaceful slumber enveloped us in its warmth.