#( not my best work. I wrote it in two and a half hours bc i felt bad not making the deadline for the event )

[orcelito]

genuinely tho me jumping right into reading volume 9 of trimax and then volume 10 (and then most of the rest of the manga) on the night before i had a presentation at 9:30 am (that was entirely not prepared) was literally one of the most unhinged decisions ive ever made

this is what a hyperfixation does to a person

[moonlinos]

It’s so tasty, come and chase me

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food

♡ Word count: 2.3k

♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️

You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.

Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.

Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.

Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.

“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.

Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.

Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.

He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.

Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.

Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.

He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.

“Weren’t you dying?”

“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.

“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”

You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”

“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”

He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”

���It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”

You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.

You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).

“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”

“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”

“Then stop disrupting me.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.

“Be my guest,” you shrug.

Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.

But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”

You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.

He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.

“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.

“Fuck off.”

Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.

But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.

“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”

He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”

You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.

So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.

“I’d love to help you.”

With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.

Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.

“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”

You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.

��Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.

“Grab the bag for me, hm?”

You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.

He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.

“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”

Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.

“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.

You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.

And then both your eyes land on the cake.

Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.

“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.

You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.

“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.

After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.

A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.

“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.

“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.

“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier

paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made

warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)

author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)

༺═──────────────═༻

The moment ‘nico 🏒🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.

The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.

A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”

“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”

She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”

Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”

Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.

“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”

Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.

“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”

They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”

She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”

He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.

“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”

It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.

A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.

Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”

Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”

“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”

She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.

They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.

There is no way he means that.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.

“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”

Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”

Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”

He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”

With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.

She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.

It’s time to find out.

Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.

“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”

Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”

She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.

The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.

He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”

“And you’re sober?”

“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”

It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”

Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.

Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.

This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.

He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.

It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”

Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”

He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”

“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”

Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.

“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“I believe you now.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable

[psychesalcove]

„ WHEN YOURE ALL ALONE, ILL REACH FOR YOU (when you're fellin' low, i'll be there too)

↳ COLLEGE AU! JASON GRACE X GN! READER ”

requested: yes, from amandamariee

⚠️: reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang) not proofread AT ALL

in which ; jason comforts reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals.

a/n: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)

finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).

you were one of the studnets who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.

and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.

ᝰ

your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.

your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same posion on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.

jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.

and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?

you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.

you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.

your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.

y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.

oh.

you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.

this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.

tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.

how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?

with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.

as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.

"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.

jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.

jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.

he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.

this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.

you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.

once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.

ᝰ

the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.

"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.

he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.

you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.

"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.

[moriartyluver]

Okay but imagine being Liam’s wife and he forgets his lunch so you take it to him at the university, and his students (who have seen how soft Liam gets when he talks about his wife) are gushing over you and asking you a bunch of questions about their professor, how the two of you got into a relationship and all that

Meanwhile he’s just flustered and blushing in the corner

AND THAN AFTER YOU LEAVE THEY START TALKING TO HIM ABOUT HOW NICE AND PRETTY YOU ARE

🎀.

A/N: IM CRYING BC I WROTE A ONESHOT FOR THIS BUT IT DIDN SAVE 😭 ANYWAYS I REWROTE IT BASICALLY THE SAME SO TAKE THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN FED ONCE AGAIN, MY DEAR LIAM SIMPS

Character(s): William James Moriarty x fem! Reader

Format: oneshots

Genre: fluff

Prompt: ^^

Warnings: uhhh implied nsfw at the end ig? Reader is a noblewoman, reader is female, reader is William’s wife/ established relationship. NOT PROOFREAD kinda short too 😞

A knock came from the other side of the door to the lecture hall. Classes had already started so you were hoping and praying that this was the right room, as you would’ve felt so embarrassed otherwise.

A familiar voice calls out to you, causing you to smile.

“Come in.”

You slowly open the door, trying not draw too much attention to yourself, which fails terribly the moment you’re visibly in the classroom.

You play with the cloth wrapped around the lunchbox in your hand, which your husband, who was now teaching his class some complex equation, had forgotten that morning in a rush to get to work. (“Five more minutes” he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck when you told him to wake up. Those five minutes became half an hour and yet your tired husband didn’t even regret it)

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Professor-“ you apologise as your husband’s face shifts into a soft smile.

“It’s alright, darling,” he said softly but discreetly as he approached your figure by the door. He took the lunchbox in your hands and gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek right before you walked back to the door, ready to leave as the handle squeaked.

“Oh look! It’s the professor’s wife..!” One student called out to you

As you began to turn to leave, another one of William's students spoke up. "Excuse me, Mrs. Moriarty," he said, waving his arm about as you failed to notice the growing blush on your husband’s face"but we've all been curious about our professor's personal life. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. The students leaned forward in their seats, eager to hear you talk about the usually strict professor.

They asked about how you met, how long you'd been married, and what it was like being married to the mathematics professor. They all seemed fascinated by William's usually strict demeanour turning soft whenever he mentioned you in the past and now they were faced with you, they understood why.

William was sat in the corner of the room, clearly flustered by the attention, which was rather amusing even if you didn’t admit it aloud. He kept his head down, hiding his pink cheeks whilst you answered his students happily.

As you finished answering the questions and prepared to leave, the students all thanked you for your time. The moment the door shut, William lifted his head to continue the lesson, coughing slightly to regain his composure. The young men in the room talked of how beautiful and kind you were to them, while the professor desperately tried to change the subject.

Not that he didn’t agree, of course, because he certainly did, but because he knew if the topic of conversation had stayed on his lovely wife, he wouldn’t be able to resist singing your praises or getting incredibly flustered and lovesick as he thought of you.

When he arrived home after work, he showed this great affection in the best possible way (iykwim🤭😏), secretly hoping you’d come by his classroom more often.

[mystic-writings]

emergency contact | jack hodgins

pairing — jack hodgins x fem!booth!reader

summary — hodgins hasn’t heard from you in over six months, after you broke up with him and disappeared. until he gets an alarming phone call in the middle of the night

warnings — angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of death

word count — 2,528

notes — a few things: i wrote this back in january, and it was rushed and poorly done but im being self-indulgent for this one | also im not tagging anyone bc i wanna see how far this will get on its own (except for my beloved @shmaptainwrites who indulged me ily mimi)

masterlist | navigation

2:47am

Despite his many years working for the Jeffersonian, Hodgins had yet to get used to his phone ringing at odd hours. With a groan and a stretch, his palm landed where his phone lay on the nightstand table. Without checking the caller ID, he picked up the phone and slurred out a tired greeting to the caller on the other line.

“Hello, Dr. Hodgins, I’m Marie, calling from the George Washington University Hospital.” Why was a hospital calling him so late at night? “You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/n Booth, correct?”

Your name sent a shock through Jack’s body. “I— I guess so, yeah. Why? Is she okay?”

“Your fiancée was shot on duty, sir. She’s in surgery right now. We suggest you be with her when she wakes up.”

Without a second thought, Jack hung up the phone and flung out of bed. He didn’t care how things ended between the two of you, good or bad, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to make sure you were okay. After scrambling for a decent set of clothing and his car keys, Jack rushed out of the house and down the near-empty streets to the hospital you were taken to. 

Even though his mind was running at a mile a minute, Jack managed to recall what the nurse had told him. Shot on duty. You took a sabbatical seven months ago, were you back in town? Surely Booth must’ve known, he was your brother and co-worker, he had to have. Did he spare telling Jack to avoid the inevitable turmoil? Obviously you’d been back long enough to take a case, so it wasn’t like you had decided to come back out of the blue. 

By the time he found parking, it was half past 3 in the morning, and Jack’s heart refused to stop beating out of his chest, his palms sweating rivers as he clenched and unclenched them. Despite all of this, though, he approached the front desk with a cracking resolve, trying his best to be put together for the sake of not distressing the night staff and lingering patient family members. 

“Could you tell me where Y/n Booth is?”

The nurse behind the counter glanced up at him. “Connection to the patient?”

“I’m her-” he stumbled on the words. “Her, uh, fiancé. Emergency contact.” 

She typed a few things into the computer when a voice from behind caught Jack’s attention. 

“Hodgins.” Booth called, approaching with a weary face and a cup of likely burnt coffee.

Jack nearly sprinted over to the man, blue eyes frantically searching for answers in his features. “What’s up, man? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Booth took Hodgins by the arm and led him down a hallway, over to the elevators. “We were going after a perp. I told her not to go in first, that I’d handle the hard part. She didn’t listen, the bastard got her from behind, shot out one of her kidneys. Been in surgery for almost,” he checked his watch, “three hours now.” 

Jack deflated just as the elevator doors dinged open. The pair stepped inside, the space empty apart from themselves. “I just— I don’t get it. Yesterday, she was somewhere even I didn’t know, taking some damn sabbatical. Yesterday, I was still pissed at her. Now? She’s in surgery because she was on a case. Because some asshole shot her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Booth?”

Unable to provide any kind of emotional support or response, Booth remained quiet as his friend tried his best not to break down in the elevator. 

When the doors opened, Jack attempted to regain his composure as best as he could while Booth led him down the hall. There was a separate waiting room here, for family members who had someone in surgery. He sat opposite Booth, next to a sleeping little girl and her obviously exhausted mother. 

He had no bearing of the passage of time, and felt as though there was no energy left within him to check the watch on his wrist. All he did was sit with his hands on his knees, head tilted to the sky, one leg bouncing like an infinite rubber ball. At some point, a doctor came out to notify the mother of her husband’s successful surgery — his tumor was gone, he’d told her, and there was little chance of it coming back. 

It wasn’t until the sun started to peek in through the waiting room windows that a surgeon called out your name. Booth had been asleep in the chair across from Jack, but he was wide awake. The pair jumped up and approached the doctor, throwing questions at him rapidly. 

“Y/n is okay. Surgery went well, though we’ll have to keep her here for longer than expected.”

“Why? What happened?” Booth asked. 

The doctor sighed. “Due to the location of the entry wound, the bullet caused too much damage to her right kidney. For now, she’ll only be functioning with one until we can find a donor match. She’ll be on dialysis weekly and some medication to assist the working kidney, but otherwise, she’ll be just fine in a week or so. The bullet did puncture the liver and small intestine, but the speed of the bullet slowed enough to only cause minor damage, nothing we couldn’t fix up.” He told them, and a wave of relief crashed over the pair. “She’s being brought up to her room now, if you’d like to go wait with her.”

Jack only nodded, Booth trailing him as the doctor led them up one more floor, where you were being transferred to the ICU. It was painful, seeing you after so  long, only for you to be hooked up to so many machines, laying nearly helpless in a bed. He pulled a chair up to your right side, reaching for your limp hand to hold, hoping you could feel him. 

Hoping you knew he was there. That you knew he always would be.

Booth leaned against the door frame, watching everything with anguish. After you left for California, you kept in constant contact with your older brother. But even in those months, you never explained why you broke off the engagement so suddenly. Why you took a surprise sabbatical, why you went to California specifically. Why you became so closed off, so cold to everyone, even to Parker. 

After a while, Booth left Jack alone to go pick up Parker from his mother’s house. He promised to be back later, your nephew in tow, and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he left. 

Jack, swimming in an ocean’s worth of thought, barely noticed the sun coming over the horizon in the window opposite him. All he could do was process the emotions flowing through him. Anger, that you left him so suddenly and without explanation. Despair, that you’d come back so long ago and didn’t come to see him, to work things out. Worry, that despite your life-saving surgery, you wouldn’t get a new kidney, or that you’d never be the same again. Anger again, but at the bastard who shot you. Triumph, that he was rotting in a cell right now. 

 Jack’s only comfort in the sterile, whitewashed room was the steady beeping emanating from the heart monitor, a small assurance that you were okay. His hand remained clasped over yours for hours, thumb stroking the smooth skin on the back of your hand. Partly as a comfort to himself that you were still there, but mostly, he believed, a comfort to you. He hoped you could feel it; that you could feel his presence. He hoped his presence comforted you. 

By the time you woke up, all the worry had faded from Jack’s body and exhaustion had taken its place. He was asleep, head supported by his arm on the side of the chair, when he heard the sheets rustle in the bed. 

Somehow, in all your years of work, this was the first time you ended up in the hospital due to a job-related injury. It wasn’t the first time you woke up dazed after a surgery with little memory of how you got there, though. 

The sheets, despite being thin, weighed down your legs and torso, providing warmth and comfort. You could feel the leads for the heart monitor stuck to your chest, irritating your skin in the slightest bit. There was a cannula feeding oxygen into your system, though it rubbed the skin on the back of your ears uncomfortably. The main thing, though, was that your torso hurt. 

Despite that, you managed to notice something weighing down your right hand. It was warm, warmer than the blankets. And heavier. Garnering the courage to open your eyes, you blinked to adjust to the sunlight and fluorescent lights, trying to shift yourself upward, wincing when it pulled on your wound. Instead, you glanced over at your hand, only to find another on top of it. Following the arm connected to it, your heart stuttered and cracked when you found a sleeping Hodgins sitting next to your bed. Emotion swelled within your chest and tear ducts just at the sight of him, sleeping so peacefully next to you, his hand over yours in a firm grasp, as if that was the only thing that assured him that you were really here. 

Slowly, quietly, you tried to pull your hand out from under Jack’s, only for the movement to wake him up. He stretched with a deep inhale, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t until he noticed you were awake that he seemed to come to his senses. 

“Hey,” he nearly whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

You bit back a scoff. “Terrible. First job back and of course I had to get myself shot.” 

Jack fought a smile, scooting forward to raise the bed up for you to sit properly. “They said they got all the fragments of the bullet during surgery. You’re down a kidney for now, though.”

You only nodded, allowing yourself some time to gather your thoughts. “Why are you here, Hodgins?”

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact.” He told you, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees. “And apparently, I still care about you enough to show up.” 

“Don’t put that on me.” You whispered, chest restricting as tears fought their way back to your waterline. “You can’t say that to me. Not after what I did to you. You should hate me. I mean, really hate me. Like, praying for my downfall, kind of hate. You shouldn’t still care about me.”

“Well, apparently I do. I thought I hated you, for a long time. But I guess I don’t.” Jack sighed,  taking your hand. You wanted to protest, to pull away, but you let him. “I guess this was a wakeup call for me. Literally. They called me at 3 in the morning to tell me you were in surgery.”

You laughed, a wet sound underlined with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I am. I just…”

“What, don’t love me? It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it.” 

Even when he should hate you, Jack still understood, and even worse, he still loved you. He was, somehow, the world’s most understanding man. God, you love him. 

“No, no I don’t hate you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I just wish things could’ve gone differently.” 

Now Jack was just confused. “What d’you mean? You broke up with me for a reason, right? You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“It’s too complicated, Jack. I want to explain it all to you, really, but it’s not safe. I don’t know if or when it will be, and I won’t blame you if you want to find someone else, or if you already have. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You should move on from me.” 

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack said, emphasizing each word and squeezing your hand. “I just want you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me, Y/n. Even with your brother breathing down my neck to not even think about pursuing our relationship. It was terrifying, but I ignored it. Because you were too important to have in my life. I couldn’t risk passing you up. I just don’t understand why you ended things so suddenly.”

The tears that you had been attempting to keep at bay for this entire conversation now flowed freely down your cheeks, the emotions you’d kept close to your chest for nearly a year now breaking free. Jack, like the gentleman he was, gently tilted your head toward him, reaching up and using the pads of his thumbs to brush them from your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, daring to look him in the eye. 

“Don’t be.” He whispered. 

“I have to be. I hurt you. I ruined everything. And it wasn’t even worth it. It  didn’t change anything.”

Despite his confusion, Jack said nothing. He simply stood to his full height and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his chest — minding your wounds and stroking your hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. We can fix this.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Jack, there’s nothing left to fix. Because if we fix it, you’ll die.” 

After what felt like an eternity of swirling, spiraling thoughts, Jack found his voice. “What?”

“That’s why I left.” You said. “I was ordered to. I was working on a case, some underground organized crime syndicate. I found out some stuff I shouldn’t have. My hands were tied, I had no choice.” Choking back a sob, you wiped the tears from your face and took a breath. “It was either break up with you, call off the wedding, and leave, or everyone I loved would die. They were gonna kill you, kill Seeley and Parker, and drain your accounts. There was nothing I could do.” 

Jack pulled you in tighter, his whole worldview shifting and turning on an axis. He couldn’t speak — hell, he could barely even think right now. Jack had spent months grieving your relationship, questioning why you broke things off, harboring a ruthless anger at what his life had become, and all of it faded to dust in an instant. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, pulling Jack back to the present. “I work with these people, Jack. They could ruin me in an instant.” 

“We’ll fix this, I promise.” Jack declared, and despite the fear that had overridden your senses for the past few months, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

You only nodded, curling further into him as best as you could with your incisions. Fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, you listened to the beat of his heart beneath you and took a deep breath. 

Soon enough, you were drifting off to sleep with the firm belief that soon enough, with the help of your family, somehow, everything would be okay. 

if you want more jack fics, please feel free to comment and let me know!! writing for smaller characters is always a gamble but if people read this i’d be more than happy to do so!

[svnflower-writes]

i wanna find out

part one. ao3 | series masterlist

description: james is confused, but no less confused as he was when he was a high school student and denying his infatuation with his best friend's brother. now, regulus is a regular at the cafe he works in, and james doesn't know what to do.

warnings: none it's fluffy james is so cute

note: (reblog and comment please please please i need the validation) HI HELLO I AM BACK OKAY SO i heard the new gracie song and i went insane bc its so jegulus and wrote this in one hour in english class and its unedited. anyway this is a series, the masterlist is linked at the top. this chapter has been on ao3 since yesterday but i didn't get around to posting it here. lowkey think this is terrible but oh wellll

taglist: (i included the people on my marauders taglist so lmk if you don't wanna be on this one) @thestarslittleking @chaserofstars11 @gu1lty-as-sin @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @a-beautiful-fool @optimizedchaos @star-ch4ser @qwerty-keysmash @lost-in-reveriie @tulips-best @nqds

Upon his first week at high school, James Potter had come to the conclusion that he would end up with Lily Evans if it was the last thing he did. She was exactly the kind of girl he liked, she was pretty and opinionated and she seemed like the sweetest person he’d ever met. Remus had chuckled at his lovesick pining, not having the heart to tell the messy haired boy that your crush when you’re eleven years old is never your soulmate.

He pined after Lily for two years, with no clear progression other than Lily awkwardly smiling at him each time they passed in the hallways. Safe to say, James’ feelings were not reciprocated, and Marelne had grown a habit of snickering at the way his eyes followed her down the hall.

A few students at school had thought he was overdoing it slightly, but he really wasn’t. He wasn’t overly pushy, and he had only asked her out once or twice. He was clear about his feelings, but wasn't going to make her uncomfortable. James Potter was a gentleman in the truest sense of the word, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel an undeniable feeling of heartache when she walked past and ignored his presence.

Now, however, James was in university. He was as over Lily as he had ever been, and he had escaped the inherent unpleasantries that come with being a teen going through the heartache of growing up. He felt undeniably free, and not to mention his psychology course was helping him understand himself better than ever. He was happier than ever, saying otherwise would be a blatant understatement. He was living in a flat with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, which had been his dream since primary school.

Lily was now one of his closest friends, and she worked at the flower shop that had a door into the coffee shop James worked in. Lily’s law degree and James’ psychology one made them a perfect pair, and much to Remus’ surprise, the two studied together regularly. The fact that James’ attention span and motivation had changed since high school was something no one had expected, and although he still struggled, he had his tactics to get back on track.

Some things never change, though, and James still hated quiet, slow paced days more than death itself. He could deal with stressful, busy days, but the mundane was his greatest oppressor, the repetitiveness of a quiet day driving him to the edge of his sanity. Today happened to be one of those days, he sat behind the counter at the small coffee shop he worked in as customers filtered in once every half an hour.

He sat, watching the slow ticking of the clock as the time went by as slow as it possibly could. It was 12:38pm, and 12:20 felt like hours ago. Blankly staring at the wall, the coffee he’d made himself had been discarded on the counter next to him and he didn’t bother picking it up, knowing that after half an hour of it sitting there, it would surely be cold. Each time someone walked past the door of the shop, James perked up—only to sigh as they walked past without a second thought. James’ tendency to romanticise everything that life had to offer often left him disappointed.

Finally, he heard the bell signalling that someone had opened the door sound, and his head snapped up in relief. ‘ My saviour, love of my life, thank god you’re here.’ his brain sung as he sprung up from his seated position, standing at the counter within seconds of the boy walking into the shop. His signature smile appeared on his face, “hi, how’s your day going?”

The boy seemed to falter, as if his carefully planned interaction of simply ordering what he wanted and leaving had been disrupted by a simple question. His dull blue eyes widened, and his lips fell open in a dumbfounded expression before he picked himself up and showed James a tight lipped smile. “Uh, I’m good.”

James noticed that this small interaction had absolutely foiled his carefully planned coffee order, and the boy had entirely forgotten to say what he wanted. James smiled softly, chuckling in his head. He always thought it was interesting how common these interactions seemed to be when you worked in a coffee shop. The psychology major in him couldn’t help but psychoanalyse these interactions, which made working in hospitality both intriguing and perplexing. He found that you could get a pretty good idea of someone’s mindset and what their day to day life is like by doing this, and it almost acted as revision for his upcoming exam.

“What can I get you today?”

Embarrassment flushed over the dark haired boy’s face, and he automatically sent another tight lipped smile to try and compensate for his forgetfulness. A strand of his soft black curls fell over his eyes, and James could tell just by his body language and the look in his eyes that it annoyed him to no end. “A black coffee, please.”

That was fitting, James thought. With the tidy (almost obnoxiously so) outfit and the carefully styled short black hair, a black coffee was the only thing that really made sense for him.

“And can I have a name for that?”

Stupid boy, you know his name.

“Regulus.”

James knew how to spell it.

He knew how to spell it and he hated that. Regulus was his best friend’s brother, and things between Sirius and his younger brother were rough. They got along until they didn’t. Sirius had spent more evenings than James could count frantically ranting about him on evenings at James’ house after school. When Sirius had left for high school, Regulus had distanced himself from Sirius more than he ever had before. Regulus had always been detatched, and James knew this from Sirius’ extensive complaints.

James he knew he shouldn’t have been so enamoured with Regulus in his high school years as he was, but when James fell for someone he fell for them. He fell for them intensly and irreversably and everyone he had ever loved lived in his heart for eternity. It may seem like James was feeling too insensely, but for him to not love so deeply and fully would mean he was not James Potter. He could not be in any sort of relationship without loving them to the end of the earth. His mother had always told him to cherish this, that his way of loving was incredibly pure and a love that many people would give anything to be the recipient of. But based off his past relationships, his love was not something to be cherished.

“Alright, I’ll have that ready for you soon.”

While he was making the coffee, James allowed himself to watch Regulus, noticing the way his hair was slightly more inclined to falling to the right side of his forehead, the way his greyish-blue eyes fixed on one spot of the wall and didn’t seem to move. He watched as his hands anxiously clasped together in his lap and his foot tapped.

James was a master of the art of noticing, and he tended to read into what people did, more so than was probably helpful. But James had always been observant, even as a toddler he had had an integral interest in people. He understood when people said that the human race was done for, but he was compelled to disagree. He had a sense of optimism that many thought was overbearing, but in the same way, James sometimes found their pessimism slightly disheartening.

Regulus intrigued him, although the boy was made of very few words and made him fiddle with his hands behind the counter and cause his eyes to flutter around the room to look anywhere other than his eyes. Regulus was pretty. He was the definition of pretty, with his wavy black hair and his grey eyes that shone with something James couldn’t quite place. James felt an intense urge to sink into the ground and never reappear. Unsure of what this was, he played it off as simply nervousness around someone new—not that it was common for James to ever feel nervous around new people. Regulus had this aura about him, one that James couldn’t figure out. It was undeniable that Regulus made James shy, but James would deny the reason for this nervousness for as long as he possibly could—and longer. This was merely a customer that would show up to the coffee shop once and never again—after all, he hadn’t seen Regulus in the shop at all earlier in the year.

For a reason James couldn’t quite place, there was a hint of awkwardness between him and Regulus. They respected each other, sure, but when they were alone, without Sirius or Remus, James felt an intense urge to sink into the ground and never reappear. He played it off as simply nervousness around someone new—not that it was common for James to ever feel nervous around new people. Regulus had this aura about him, one that James couldn’t quite place. It was undeniable that Regulus made James nervous, but James would deny the reason for this nervousness for as long as he possibly could—and longer. Regulus didn’t speak much, and James tried but failed to match this. The silence felt awkward, and he couldn’t go for long sitting in silence with him until he overshared, making the situation more awkward than it had been beforehand.

“Long black for Regulus?”

He says his name, although there is no one else in the shop to mistake the coffee as their own. But James likes the way his name sounds on his lips, as horrifically cheesy as that may sound.

Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it. He’s off-limits and you know that.

Looking up, Regulus looked up and flashed a small, awkward smile, walking to the counter and reaching for the coffee. As his fingers wrapped around the cup, they brushed James’ fingers, and his grey eyes flickered up to meet James’ deep brown ones. “Thank you,” he looked away quickly and was out of the shop before James could even respond.

Okay, James thought, okay, this is okay. He just has to make it out of the shop and then I’ll never see him again.

But then Regulus stops halfway out of the door, sending James a wonky smile and a soft “I’ll see you around.” His eyes are twinkling with something unrecognisable, and once he leaves James allows himself to breathe and forces the dorky smile off his face as he swears under his breath.

Stupid, stupid boy.

[nickfowlerrr]

by your side

part one / part two / part three / part four

pairing: lee bodecker x reader

warnings: 18+ only. main character injuries. reader pregnancy. morning sickness. angst. fluff. no smut. if i’m missing something important pls lmk.

words: 8.5k

notes: disclaimer: some things mentioned aren’t remotely accurate/possible to the era this takes place in (1960s) or like maybe ever even who knows really. i certainly do not. and though i tried to google more accurate info - i just wrote what worked for the story best lol so we’re all gonna suspend our disbelief and pretend it all makes sense. okay, cool, thanks. 😚 finally posting the last planned part to this little series. it’s poorly edited bc i’m very tired lol so sorry for errors in advance. and sorry it’s taken ages lol but i hope you’ve enjoyed it 🥰 headache was my first ever fic so this miniseries is really special to me. it’s where it all started. 🥹 thank you for reading and reblogging and as always, feedback and comments are appreciated. ❤️

It was chilly outside as you left your apartment, making sure you had everything with you as you walked briskly to your car. You were already late, so you were rushing to get to the station as soon as you could. Lee had been there earlier in the morning to pick you up for work, but when you were finishing getting ready, a sudden wave of nausea came over you and had you running to the bathroom with Lee following right behind. As you dry heaved over the toilet, nothing but bile coming up as your stomach had nothing else to give, Lee’s hand rubbed your back in an effort to comfort you.

He continued worrying over you even when you assured him you were fine.

“Lee, I promise, I’m okay. Probably just ate something bad, it’s nothing,” you said, shooing him off. “You’re gonna be late for work if you don’t go now. I’ll drive myself after I fix up a bit,”

“Darlin’-,” he went to argue, concern lacing his voice.

“Go,” you ordered. “I’ll be there before you know it.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you gave him a peck on the cheek. You moved to slip away and usher him out the door but he wrapped his arms around you before you could and squeezed you. You returned his hug as he looked down at you.

“You sure you’re okay, darlin’?”

“Promise, I’m okay.”

He sighed heavily before letting you go and opening the door. He turned and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“If you start feeling sick again, you call me, understand?”

“Yes, Sheriff, I understand,” you recited back to appease him. “I’ll be there before you know it,” you smiled as you urged him out.

“Why don’t I just stay until you’re done?” he tried to argue again. “No one's gonna say anything if I’m late, I’m the sheriff,”

“Lee,” you admonished, “Get outta here. You’re late enough as it is,”

“Fine,” he relented. “But if you’re not there within the hour I’m coming back over here,”

“Okay, deal,” you agreed. “I’ll see you soon.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours, kissing you softly.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips.

“Love you, too,” you returned before you watched him walk to the cruiser as you leaned out the door.

“One hour!” he called out as he pulled open the driver’s side door, shooting an “I’m serious” look your way before he got in. You gave him a wave as you smiled while he finally drove off.

—--------------------------

Funnily enough, it’d been well over an hour since Lee had left and you were pretty surprised he hadn’t so much as called. You didn’t think anything of it, though. He was probably out on a call.

When you pulled into the station, your eyes scanned the rows of cars while you looked for a spot, Lee’s cruiser nowhere to be seen. You found an open spot and parked, hustling inside to get to your desk.

“There you are! I was starting to get worried. Lee said you were sick this morning but you’d be here soon. And then soon turned into an hour and then an hour into an hour and a half,” Beth worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, he was worrying over nothing, just a queasy stomach,” you assured her. “Speaking of Lee, is he out?”

“Yeah, he went on a call a little while ago. I think he left you a note on your desk, actually.”

You looked in the direction of Lee’s office, with a hint of a smile.

“If you need anything, hon, just let me know,”

“Thank you, Beth, I appreciate it, but really, I’m completely fine,” you waved off her worry with a sweet smile as you made your way to your desk.

Putting your bag down and pulling your chair out, you picked up the note Lee had left and read it as you took your seat.

Had to go out on a call, but I’ll be back before you know it.

Love you, sugar.

- Lee

You couldn’t help but smile at the note, setting it back down and sliding it to the top of your desk as you grabbed the stack of files that had accumulated while you were gone to start getting through the paperwork and filing.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

It had been an hour and Lee still wasn’t back. You didn’t want to start worrying over nothing, but he always called when he knew he’d be longer than normal.. As you were anxiously waiting at your desk for something to happen - be it the phone ringing or Lee finally waltzing in to calm your racing mind and settle your worried thoughts, you noticed Beth going into the break room. Deciding you needed a distraction you got up and followed her.

“Hey,” you greeted as you took a seat at the table, watching Beth as she made herself a cup of tea.

“Hey, you alright, darlin’?” she asked, immediately concerned.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “yeah…So, how long do you think Lee’s been gone now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant as you sat one leg crossed over the other, your foot swaying anxiously as if it had a mind of its own - betraying your air of calm.

“Oh, uhm…I’m not sure. He’d left maybe thirty five minutes before you got here?”

Your brows raised ever so slightly as you realized it was coming up on two hours that he’d been gone with no word from him. There was a small pit in your stomach beginning to form, but you knew you needed to not freak out. Maybe he was just caught up in something. You were sure it wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be.You would’ve heard something by now..

“He hasn’t called or anything, has he?” you asked.

“No, why? Something wrong, hon?”

You shook your head, taking a breath. “No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You sure you’re okay, you look a little sick,” she said worriedly, making her way over to the table to take a seat.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve just been having these little bouts of sickness lately. Just out of nowhere, I don’t know why. I thought it might have been something I ate the other day but..I don’t know,”

“Bouts of sickness? Like, what? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just like, nausea and sometimes I actually get sick, like run to the toilet or find a trash can, sick. Maybe it’s stress? There’s not really any other symptoms of a bug or anything,”

“How long have you been feeling like that?”

“Just started this past weekend,”

“And you’re sure there’s nothing else goin’ on? No… sensitivity to smells? Or feeling more tired than normal, soreness anywhere?” she prompted.

You thought back on this past week and were worried all over, you had all of those symptoms.

“Now that I think about it, yeah, actually…” you said, suddenly getting lost in your thoughts as pieces moved into place. There was no way…

“I don’t mean to pry, really, but, have you and Lee been..ya know, intimate with one another?” she asked, voice hushed to make sure no one else heard despite you two being the only ones in the room.

Your face dropped as you gathered what she was getting at, why hadn’t you considered it a possibility earlier?

“You don’t think…” you trailed off, shaking your head at the absurdity. Although, it really wasn’t all that absurd. It was the most reasonable explanation you had heard all week.

“Sounds to me like you just might be pregnant, sweetie,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips, but not breaking out completely as she wanted to gauge your reaction to the suggestion before she showed her own.

You didn’t have a chance to respond as the phone at your desk began ringing. You shot up, heart racing.

“Oh, that must be Lee,” you said before you rushed to get it.

You had to take a breath before answering the phone, needing to compose yourself in case it was someone else calling to speak with him.

“Sheriff's office, how can I help you today?” you recited as smoothly as you could as Beth came up to the desk to make sure everything was okay.

“Hello, ma’am. This is Debbie Ann down here at the hospital,”

Hospital? You froze. A sinking feeling was suddenly heavy in your chest as you waited for her to continue, not so much as making a sound during the time you were waiting. It couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds, but each one felt like an eternity.

“We have Sheriff Bodecker down here. Looks like he was just brought in a bit ago. I’m told he has a gunshot wound…”

There was like a static, a buzzing in your ear as you dissociated for a split second while she spoke. You didn’t hear anything she said after ‘gunshot’. Staring off at nothing, your mouth parting just slightly.

“Ma’am? Hello, are you still there?” the woman on the other end asked as you came back to yourself.

“What?” you faltered out of breath.

“We’ve tried calling the old contacts we had on file, but no one answered. The only working number listed is the station,” she explained as you were reeling. You were trying to catch your breath, blinking wildly as you tried to get a grip, hands floundering on your desk for your keys.

“O- okay, I’ll uh - I’ll be right there, I’m coming right now. I’ll be there right away,” you rushed out, fighting the tightness in your throat as you spoke. You nearly slammed the receiver down as you grabbed your purse and coat, not thinking of anything other than getting to him as soon as possible.

“Wow, wow, wow,” Beth rushed to slow you down. “Sweetheart, what happened? Where are you goin’?”

You stopped as she grabbed your hand and turned to her, tears welling in your eyes.

“I have to get to the hospital,” you stammered.

“Why? What happened, what’s wrong?”

“Lee’s been shot,”

“Oh my god,” she gasped, her hand flying to her chest in shock. “Okay,” she agreed quickly. “We’ll go, but you’re not driving. I’m gonna get Sam, he’ll take us. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” she assured you before rushing to get Sam from his desk.

They made their way to you quickly, Sam looking as concerned as his fiance.

“Peters,” he called, “radio Franklin and Sanderson, I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who called the Sheriff out earlier. See if you can get a hold of them. I’ll call from the hospital when I get there.”

Beth was already walking with you to their car, her hand holding yours was a comfort as she ushered you into the backseat, Sam trailing right behind you guys.

—-------------

“You okay?” Sam asked gently as he glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he tried to ease your worries but his words did little to help.

The hospital wasn’t too far from the station, and Sam was speeding down the near empty road, getting you there in record time.

The second the car stopped moving, you rushed out and headed straight for the entrance without a thought; Beth and Sam right behind you.

You made a beeline for the reception desk as you entered, your sense of composure and any manners out the window..

“We’re looking for Sheriff Bodecker,” you nearly panted, voice shaking. You weren’t sure if you were out of breath from your brisk walking or from the anxiety that was strangling you.

“The Sheriff, yes. He’s being attended to right now. Are you his wife?” the older woman asked, looking at you clearly concerned by your panicked state.

You shook your head dumbly.

“Family?”

“He doesn’t-” your voice threatened to break as you spoke, shaking your head again as you felt the tears welling, “he doesn’t have any family,” you heard the edge in your voice, but you couldn’t help your response. The stress was taking over you and you were overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. You didn’t mean to come off as frustrated as you did, but you were still irritated by the needless questions.

The woman looked at you sympathetically, nodding in understanding as you felt Beth beside you take your hand in hers reassuringly. Turning you to her, she grabbed you gently and led you to sit in one of the hard chairs of the waiting area while Sam took over the conversation with the woman at the desk.

“Just sit back, honey. We’ll figure this out, you just breathe, it’s gonna be okay,” she soothed, running her lithe hand up and down your back comfortingly. Sam turned and gestured for Beth to come over to the desk and she did just that. You watch them anxiously, looking for any sign that something was truly wrong, that the worst case scenario had happened, but they kept their backs to you as they spoke.

Not too long later, Beth came back over.

“He’s getting looked after right now. Can’t have any visitors until they finish doing what they need to do, but we can stay here and they’ll keep us updated. But he’s okay, sweetie, he’s alive and breathin’,” she breathed a smile as you nodded frantically, a bit of ease washing over you for a second before you found yourself beginning to cry unabashedly at the relief.

She hugged you tightly as you cried. “He’s okay, he’s gonna be okay,” she repeated softly.

You calmed down as you pulled away, wiping at your bleary eyes, grateful for the lack of other people in the waiting area - no further witnesses to your emotional display.

“He’s okay,” you echoed aloud, nodding, almost as if you were reassuring yourself of that fact while you wiped your tears, taking steadying breaths.

“I’m really sorry, ladies, I have to get back to the station, fill everyone in and see if Franklin or Sanderson has called in yet,”

“What- what happened, Sam? How did he get here?” you asked.

“I’m not too sure yet, but I promise I’m going to find out. She said two officers brought him in and he was unconscious. They told her to call the station and that they were goin’ back on pursuit. I’m hopin’ someone at the station’s heard from ‘em and we’ll figure it out,” he said confidently before turning his eyes fully on Beth, “You call me if you need me before I get back.”

“I will,” she nodded, getting up to give him a quick kiss before he left.

Your head was in your hands as you continued trying to collect yourself, taking deep breaths as you felt your stomach turning again - you knew what that feeling meant. You shot up and scurried right for the bathroom, getting into a stall just in time.

Beth followed you in after a moment, right as you were flushing the toilet before heading to the sink.

You could feel her looking you up and down, attempting to assess you discreetly.

“I’m fine,” you huffed as you looked at her in the mirror.

She bit her lip as she continued looking at you.

“Beth,” you rebuffed, turning to look at her standing beside you.

She looked around the bathroom, just making sure it was really empty before she spoke.

“I’m not trying to upset you anymore than you already are,” she broached carefully, “but maybe, you know, while we’re here you should get a test done. Just to find out, one way or the other,” she suggested, her support and care for you clear in her eyes.

You could feel your lips in a thoughtful pout as your eyebrows worried. “Do you..you think I really might be pregnant?” You knew the answer, but you asked anyway. Beth’s hand came up to rest on your shoulder reassuringly.

“Oh, sweetie,” she spoke softly.

“Oh, god,” you breathed, placing your hand over hers. “Okay,” you nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You both walk out of the bathroom and go back to the desk to check in to be seen. It was desolate so you didn’t think it’d take long for you to get in. You filled out the standard paperwork and then waited for either your name or Lee’s to be called.

And just as you’d hoped, it wasn’t too long before your name was being called and a nurse took you to a small room not too far beyond the front desk.

The room you were led to smelled sterile, like a doctor’s office, and just like the rest of the building. Your palms were sweating and you felt queasy again.

Question after question was asked, what symptoms you were having, your last sexual encounter, your last cycle, etc., etc.. You don’t know what you were expecting but you just wanted to get the test done and go back out there to wait for any updates on Lee.

“Alright, we just need a urine sample from you and then the technician will get your test. Results won’t be ready for at least two hours,” the nurse recited with little emotion, as if she was speaking off a script.

All you could do was nod as she handed you the cup and riddled off the basic instructions for you to follow.

—---------

You left the room feeling unsure of everything. What would you do if the results came back positive? What would Lee say? What would everyone around town say? You’d be seen as the unwed harlot who got knocked up by the sheriff, your boss, you could hear the church goers gossip now.

You sat quietly by Beth as you continued waiting for any news after being reassured by her that nothing happened while you were being seen.

An hour passed as you and Beth mindlessly flipping through the magazines that had littered the entryway table along the wall.

“Why haven’t we heard anything yet?” you groused.

“Don’t worry yourself, hun,” Beth lightly admonished. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

You sighed, knowing she was right.

“I just wanna see him. Make sure he’s okay,”

“I know, believe me, I do. But they’ll let us know as soon as he’s ready for visitors. You know, we should probably get some food in you,” she pointed out.

“We can’t leave,” you responded, sounding frazzled, as if she was insane for even suggesting it.

“We won’t, we can just grab something in the cafeteria. I’ll tell ‘em where we’re going in case they call us,” she said, leaving no room for argument as she went to the desk to let the ladies know where you’d be.

You followed her to the cafeteria which was just as empty as the waiting area with the exception of the few staff who were scattered around the food hall eating their lunches and mid shift snacks.

Beth got food for the both of you as you sat at the table nearest the door, in case anyone came in looking for you.

You thanked her as she sat across from you, handing you a tray of food. You eyed the sandwich on the tray warily, not sure you were up to eating.

“I know you don’t have the results just yet, but in case you are,” her eyebrows raised as she eyed you knowingly, “you gotta at least try to get something down. You haven’t eaten all day, you need to.”

You looked at her, nodding, “I know, you’re right.”

You reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it meaningfully. “Thank you,” you said in a near whisper, “for everything. You’re a really great friend, Beth,” you smiled tightly with tears in your eyes.

“I’m always here for you, you know that,” she smiled back, returning the squeeze to your hand before you went to your lunches.

You munched a carrot, watching as Beth took a bite of her sandwich. You needed confirmation it was edible before you would try it.

She looked up to meet your eye, chuckling at your raised brow and skeptical look. “It’s not bad, I swear,” she said after swallowing her bite.

“If I get sick again, I’m blaming you,” you laughed lightly.

Just as you were going to grab the sandwich, your name being called had your head shooting up, meeting the eye of the same nurse you’d been seen by earlier. You swallowed hard, you knew what this had to be.

“Could you follow me, ma’am,” she prompted. You stood and looked to Beth, sharing a nod before following behind the woman.

You only found your voice once you were in the hallway, “You have my results?” you asked trepidatiously.

“Oh, no. They should be ready soon, though,” she said without looking back at you as she continued leading you down the hallway. She must have sensed your confusion as she stopped a few feet from a closed door.

“Sheriff Bodecker asked to see you,” she supplied as she gestured to the door behind her.

Your eyes widened, as you hurried past her to the door, why the hell didn’t she say that sooner?

“Be careful with him,” she bid as you took a second to open the door gently, trying to calm down from all the emotions swirling around inside you.

You pushed open the door and peaked in. The second you saw Lee’s bright blue eyes looking over, you felt your heart squeeze and you nearly ran to his bedside, eyes filled to the brim with tears on the brink of falling.

“Hi darlin’,” he said, a lopsided grin on his pretty lips as he immediately stretched his right arm out for you to hug him.

“I was so worried,” you blubbered as you held onto him, trying to be careful with him before you pulled away to look him over. His left bicep was bandaged and you looked back to his face, worry etched all over your own once again.

“What happened?”

He released a heavy sigh, taking your hand in his and urging you to sit on the bed with him. Your full attention was on him as he ran his thumb on your hand soothingly.

“Goddamn Gates,” he cursed. “Son of a bitch was drunk and beating on Judy again. Franklin and Sanderson couldn’t get him to open the door and called me down there, sayin’ Gates would only speak to me. I got there and he opened up, I went inside to talk to ‘em, make sure Judy was alright and he was rantin’ and ravin’ about how he hadn’t touched a drink all week, all the while reekin’ the stuff. Judy said she was done, had enough of him finally and wanted him out. Then, I don’t know where he got it from, but all of a sudden he was waving a gun around, yellin’ about how he wasn’t goin’ to jail.

I turned to tell Judy to go outside and the fucker shot me. Tried to hit me in my chest but he’s a shit shot even when he’s not drunk off his ass,” he turned to show you his left arm, “bullet went straight through, they said it didn’t hit anything, so it just needs to heal up and I’m fine.”

“God, Lee,” you exhaled, your distress clear in your voice.

“They said you were unconscious when you got here?” you brought up, needing to know the full story.

“I wasn’t unconscious,” he denied, lip twitching up at the corner. “I was pretty out of it, though,” he admitted.

“He’d shoved past me to the back door when he heard the front door open and I was too focused on my arm to stop myself from falling. Hit my head on the corner of their table pretty hard,” he grimaced. “Have a concussion, but-”

“Oh my god,” you interjected as you got closer to him, gently running your hand through his cropped hair.

“I’m fine,” he finished, taking your hand in his. The look in his eye as he stared at you had your heart skipping a beat. Gleaming with adoration and love. Not a bit of worry for himself, his full focus on you.

“If anything had happened to you,” you breathed, not even wanting to think about how much worse today could have gone, “I-”

You couldn’t even finish talking as he pulled you into him, holding you as best he could with just his right arm.

Pulling away after a moment, you looked in his eyes, hoping yours got across all the feelings you didn’t have the words to properly express before you leaned back into him and kissed him more tenderly than you ever had before.

“I love you, Lee Bodecker,” you whispered against his lips. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispered in return. “I don’t think I ever really knew what love was before I met you.”

You smiled as your foreheads pressed together, noses touching lightly. Lee pulled back from you then and the glimmer in his eyes had you wanting to do nothing more than wrap him in your arms and lay with his head resting on your chest, the kind of peace, comfort, and love you’d always dreamed of, the kind you’d found with him, were the only feelings you wanted to focus on. He caressed your cheek gently before looking down and taking your hand in his once more.

There was something building in the air, an anticipation. You didn’t know where the feeling came from but it had you on the edge of your seat.

Looking back up from your hand in his, Lee’s eyes met yours.

“I wasn’t plannin’ on asking you like this, but if today’s reminded me of anything, it’s that life is short,” he said sincerely while you stared at him, eyes rounded as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Gates’ aim had been better, I might not be here with you right now. I might not have ever gotten the chance to tell you just how stupidly in love I am with you,” he smiled. “How your laugh is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. How lookin’ in your eyes makes me feel like there’s hundreds of butterflies flying around in my stomach, how you make me feel like I’m walking on air when you look at me. And how thankful I am to have met you, how lucky I am you let me love you, and have given me the honor of bein’ yours for as long as you have now,”

You could feel your eyes watering for what must have been the tenth time that day as you waited for him to ask what you thought he was going to, squeezing his hand encouraging him to go on.

“Darlin’, you’re my whole world. And I can’t go another minute without you knowing just how serious I am about you, just how much I want, need you in my life. And however long I’m here on this earth for, whether it’s another month or thirty years, I want it to be with you… I want it all with you, everything.

I want you to move in with me, I want you to take my name, and I want to start a family with you, I-...”

A family. You almost lost it when he said those words, but you held it together another second…Then you heard your name leaving his lips and the tears began to slide gently down your cheeks.

“Will you marry me?” he asked softly.

Your heart about burst at the question as your lip wobbled, holding his hand tighter than you had before, making sure this was really happening and you weren’t just dreaming it. As you opened your mouth to answer him, the door opened with no notice and startled you as you shot your head over to see who was interrupting the intimate moment. It was the same nurse from earlier, but this time she had a chart with her, holding the file in her arm.

“This can’t wait?” Lee asked gruffly.

“I’m sorry to interrupt Sheriff, but I’m not here for you,” she turned her gaze to you then, “We have your test results, hon.” Your eyes went wide and your stomach felt queasy all over again at the sudden reality, anxiousness coursing through you. The idea of a family with Lee wasn’t just a nice idea to look forward to in a few years. The possibility was very real right here and now. You knew it’d be okay, whatever the results were, but still. Why was there so much going on today, you could hardly keep up physically let alone emotionally.

“Test results?” Lee questioned, you could hear the worry in his voice and as you turned to look back at him, you saw the concern on his face as he looked between you and the nurse. “What test?”

“Just,” you took his face in your hands gently, “just one second,” you assured him without answering his question, kissing him softly before following the nurse to just outside the door.

“Well, I’ll get right to it, it looks like what we suspected. Test came back positive, you’re pregnant,” she said, offering you a smile.

You knew that was coming, you knew it. But it still hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt like you were in shock, but you weren’t really shocked at all. You smiled back, before nodding.

“Oh,” you exhaled with a breathy laugh, “okay. Thank you,” you said as she walked back down the hall, leaving you to digest the news. You stood there for a moment until Lee calling your name prompted you to go back in the room, worried he’d get up and come check on you if you didn’t.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently as he pulled you back to near his bedside the second you got close enough to touch.

You worried your lip before meeting his eye. That look was there again, it always was. His bright blue eyes shining with nothing but concern for you. Filled with his need to comfort you, protect you, love you. You couldn’t help your eyes watering or the smile that broke out across your face as you admired him, taking a breath before you spoke.

“How would you feel…” you started, trying to not let your tears overtake you just yet, “about starting that family a little sooner rather than later?” you questioned shyly, eyes set on your hand in his while trying to hold the tears back a little longer.

“What are you talkin’ about, sugar?”

You looked up, meeting his eye and taking a deeper, more grounding breath before speaking again.

“I’m pregnant,” you announced, exhaling shakily. His eyes widened after a second while he took in what you’d just said,

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, the corner of his lips quirking up. You nodded in response. He breathed a laugh in disbelief and you swore the smile that shone on his face was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen.

You laughed in return, a relief and calm washing over you as you let your tears fall and watched as Lee’s own eyes watered at the news. He grabbed you, trying to pull you onto the bed with him. “You’re pregnant!” he beamed.

“Lee!” you laughed, “Be careful, you’re still hurt,” you objected.

“I’ve never been better in my life, darlin’,” he grinned, tugging you still.

You relented and gingerly laid down next to him, his right arm wrapping around your waist, palm resting carefully on your belly while you nuzzled into him. Turning your face up to look at him, Lee was already staring at you. You leaned up to meet his lips, indulging in a sweet kiss that was full of your love for one another, growing deeper the longer you held the kiss before you parted.

“You haven’t answered my question, sweetheart,” he simpered, eyeing you adoringly.

“Right,” you agreed, the proposal he’d just finished before the nurse walked in fresh in your mind. “What was it that you asked me again?” you feigned innocence, both of you smiling knowingly. There were stars in your eyes as you looked at him, elation filling you as he gazed back with a look akin to your own.

“I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you, there’s nothing I want more than to marry you and start this family with you,” he said, rubbing your tummy as he spoke. “Will you marry me?”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Yes,” you breathed a laugh. “Of course I will, I’ll marry you.”

Reaching up to kiss him again, you held his cheek in your hand.

“You’re gonna be my husband,” you grinned.

Lee laughed and kissed you once more. “Damn right, I am.”

“Okay, as much as I wanna lay with you, one of us is gonna end up falling off this bed,” you joked, moving to sit up. He let you sit up without an argument, only sighing in disappointment at the loss of you laying next to him. He took your left hand in his as he held it, his touch featherlight as his thumb rubbed along your ring finger.

“We’ll go down to the jeweler’s tomorrow,” he told you. “Gonna get you a ring, whichever one you want,” he smiled at you. You gave a tight lipped smile in return as you suddenly began worrying about what people would say. He knew the second you started to worry, gripping your hand more firmly, but his hold was still gentle, just enough to get your head back to the present. You looked at him, taking a breath.

“What are people gonna say? When they find out I’m pregnant before we’ve gotten married?” you asked, letting him know what you were worrying about.

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what they think or what they have to say. You don’t need to worry about a thing. It ain’t nobody's business anyway,”

“Might not be their business but that isn’t gonna stop them from talking. I remember all those awful things they said about Susan not two years ago. Nearly ran her right out of town, all the whispers and judgy looks she’d get whenever she went anywhere without Bill,” you said, shaking your head at the memory. Those church women were especially cruel to her. You didn’t want to be the next talk of the town. You and Lee both were already on thin ice with the lot of them for your so called “work affair”.

“Darlin’, if anyone has anything bad to say about you, they’ll be dealin’ with me. No one’s gonna make my girl - my wife, the mother of my child, feel bad for any reason. I’ll make damn sure of it,” he promised you.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his instance no one would talk about you, but his words were comforting nonetheless. He was right, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You were happy and in love and you wouldn’t change a single thing, pregnant out of wedlock or not. And the way you lit up hearing him call you his wife, and the mother of his child had you giddy all over.

“Only reason those ladies would talk about you is because they’re jealous anyway,” he added, making you laugh again. “I mean it, sugar. You’ll be the talk of the town for all the right reasons. You’re already like a damn starlet walking around gracing all of us small town folk with your beauty,” he smiled, kissing your cheek as you rolled your eyes again at his ridiculous compliments. Ridiculous to you, at least. Because Lee meant every word he said.

“You’re gonna make the most beautiful bride and the prettiest mama this town has ever seen. I can’t wait to watch you get heavy with our baby. Can’t wait to watch you walk down the aisle, straight to me,” he simpered. You smiled demurely. Kissing him softly once more.

“We’ve got a lot of plannin’ to do,” Lee pointed out.

“You’ve got a lot of healin’ to do, Sheriff. We’ll figure everything else out in due time,”

Lee smirked, eyeing you like he wanted to argue that he was fine, but decided against it.

“Well, the doc said I could go home soon, and seein’ as I’ll be taking tomorrow off, we’ll have plenty of time to get your ring at least.”

“Lee,”

“Don’t try and argue, sweetheart. I want everyone to see a ring on your finger as soon as possible, let ‘em all know you’re mine, no question about it.”

“As if you haven’t made that obvious already,” you said, raising a brow at him.

“Reminders never hurt. Besides, a girl like you deserves to have a diamond on that finger. Show it off to all those Betties who like to gossip, give ‘em something to talk about,” he smiled.

“Give it another month, they’ll have plenty to talk about, I’m sure,” you said with a dry laugh, looking down at your stomach.

Lee considered you for a moment before talking.

“Move in with me,” he said.

You looked at him quizzically.

“Well, duh,” you smiled.

“This weekend. I’ll hire movers, we’ll get you settled by Sunday,” he said, almost begging, wanting to get ahead of the refusal he was sure you’d have at trying to move so soon knowing he was still healing.

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, “Okay,” you agreed, earning a grin from him in return as he nodded and visibly relaxed.

“The guest room is already clean, it’ll be easy enough to turn it into a nursery,” he added. You smiled at his happiness, the emotion evident on his face. And your heart soared at the way he was so ready for this, as if he’d been waiting for everything to fall into place, waiting for this to start with you. He was already planning everything out in his head, you could practically see the wheels working as he thought.

“You’re gonna be an amazing dad, you know that?” you breathed.

He smiled softly at you, looking like his mind was far off for just a second before he came back to himself. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” he responded. “We’re gonna do this together, we’re gonna do our best, do everything we can for this little one,”

“And for each other,” you added, wanting to remind him you’d always be there for him, too. You were a family now, undeniably. It was like everything had changed in your lives in a matter of hours, but the one thing that would stay the same was your love for one another. Trials and unforeseen changes, be they good or bad, only solidified that knowing you had deep down. You were it for each other. And your love only grew stronger with each day.

He nodded, still smiling as he gently let go of your hand, moving to rest his palm on your belly again, you put your hand over his and when you looked at him again, his eyes were shining as tears filled his eyes.

“Seems crazy to say, considerin’ I was shot and concussed and all, but I think this is the best damn day of my life,” he laughed breathily as a few tears fell. You were quick to wipe them from his cheeks as you took his face in your hands delicately, laughing softly in turn, your thumb gently brushing his cheek as you leaned your head to his.

“Whole lot to process,” you mused. “But you’re here. And you’re okay. And we’re having a baby,” you repeated, your smile growing wider.

“And you’re gonna make me your wife,” you nearly whispered as your lips brushed his. “I could see how it’s one of the best when you look at it like that.”

Lee simpered as he leaned into you before closing the distance between your lips and kissing you tenderly.

“But you have to promise me something, Lee,” you urged, making sure he was looking in your eyes, wanting him to see how serious you were. “Your main focus right now is on healing. I don’t want you rushing anything, alright? I just need you to get better, I need you to be okay. And I know you’re gonna say you’re fine, but I mean it, Lee,”

“I promise,” he swore, his hand holding yours, keeping your touch to his cheek before he pulled it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “You have my word.”

You schooled your face, not wanting to let on your surprise at his lack of pushback. “Good,” you said satisfied, pulling your hands back to rest in between your bodies, but not letting go of each other.

“Now, you have to promise me something,” he said.

You eyed him, waiting for him to continue.

“You have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?” You asked. He took a beat before speaking matter of factly.

“You’re fired.” You blinked at him, confused for just a second before his words registered.

“Excuse me?” you said incredulously.

“You’re carrying my baby in there, no way I’m gonna have you working. No need for it,” he answered as if it was obvious.

“No need for it?” you scoffed. “I’ll tell you one thing for sure, Mr. Bodecker. You’d be completely lost without me. In fact, this is a perfect example of why you need me at the station. Had I been there when they tried to call you in, I would’ve told those two bozos to figure it out themselves. Too damn lazy to do their job is what it was. You never should’ve been down there to begin with. They’re officers, for Christ’s sake! They could’ve easily gotten him to open up, they just didn’t want to deal with it. And where were they when you were inside, huh? Not talking to Judy, were they. Probably guzzling their coffee, leaning along their cruiser while they talked about baseball or whatever the hell else it is they talk about, meanwhile you’re getting shot at by some wife beatin’ drunk all because they can’t be bothered to do their damn jobs. Left you all alone in there with no one to watch your back, that’s reckless and dangerous and they’re so damned lucky you’re alright, because I swear, had anything worse happened to you, Lee -,” you ranted, not realizing how truly angry you had been beneath the fear and worry you felt for Lee.

“Alright, alright, I hear you, darlin’. Take it easy,” he said, trying to calm you while hiding the look of amusement and pride threatening to break across his face at your impromptu lecture and ranting.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head. “And I know for a fact your files would be an unorganized mess and your paperwork would always be half done without me there to assist you,” you huffed.

“You’re not firing me, Lee,” you said, defiant and definitively. “If anyone is gettin’ fired today, it should be those two idiots, not me.”

Lee considered you for a second, biting on his tongue in thought before he huffed out a laugh through his nose. “I’ll make you a deal, then. I’ll give you five months workin’ your normal days but as soon as your last trimester hits, I don’t want you so much as lifting a finger in that station,” he said, giving you a look that left little room for argument.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you considered it. Five months is a lot of time to make things work in your favor…

“Fine,” you agreed, making your dissatisfaction clear in your tone.

“Don’t give me that look, sugar, you’re gonna kill me with those eyes,” he bemoaned. “I’m already hurt as it is, darlin’,” he gave you his best puppy eyes as he took your hand in his again.

“Well speakin’ of not lifting a finger at the station,” you repeated his sentiment, “You’re gonna be taking a lot longer than just one day off, Sheriff.”

“That so?”

“That is so. And don’t think for one second that you’ll be out patrolling until your arm is completely healed,” you said firmly.

“I think you think it’s a lot worse than it is, sweetheart. I’ll be good as new by next week,” he assured you.

You looked down at his hand in yours and squeezed it, more as a comfort to yourself than anything. “A week, then,” you said, a soft plea disguised under your tone of faux authority. “The whole week. You’re gonna be home, you’re not going on a single call.”

“Hey,” he called, bringing your attention to him, “I’m alright,” he insisted while his eyes were intent on you.

You took a second, looking in his eyes for reassurance and then nodded. “Okay,” you breathed, looking away, feeling that familiar tingling in your nose as you blinked back a fresh wave of tears.

“No more tears, darlin’. Look at me,” he ordered gently. “You’re okay.”

“‘M not worried about me,” you muttered as you met his eye again.

“I know I can’t keep you from worrying’ about me, but darlin’, you really don’t need to.”

“You know how ridiculous it is to hear you say that as you’re layin’ in a hospital bed?” you snapped before your voice quavered as it rose, “You could’ve died, Lee!

And you’re tellin me I don’t need to worry about you?” you scoffed, you looked at him incredulously before you really saw him, laying there hurt and vulnerable whether he wanted to admit it or not, and you softened instantly. It wasn’t him you were so upset at. “You’re the love of my life, Lee,” your voice shook despite you trying to reign in the emotion. “I’m always gonna be worried about you, even if you aren’t worried about yourself. Which, you know, now, you have to. You have to worry because I’m not gonna be raising a little baby Bodecker all on my own,” you tried to ease up as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he sighed, regret in his eyes. “I think we just need to go home and relax together. Focus on all the good we got out of today instead of the bad. All this stress can’t be good for the baby, neither.”

You rubbed at your face, growing tired from the whirlwind you’d been through today.

“No,” you shook your head with a sigh of your own, “I’m sorry.” Your hand was on his thigh, your thumb absentmindedly soothing across it as you breathed. “I didn’t mean to get upset - I’m not upset. Not with you, anyway. I just - I’m sorry,” you breathed, not knowing how to properly put into words what you were thinking or feeling, only frustrating yourself further.

“None of that,” he chided as he sat further up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed with you.

“Lee, don’t do that!”

“They didn’t say I couldn’t move,” he argued. “In fact, they said someone’d be in here soon to show me how to dress the wound while it heals and then I can go home. Hand me my pants, sugar?”

You eyed him unbelieving but stood and grabbed his pants anyway, bringing them over for him. He moved his left arm gingerly as he tried to pull them further up his legs once he had his feet through so you took hold of them and helped slide them up for him. You zipped the zipper and buttoned them closed. “Want your belt on, too?”

“No. Thank you, darlin’.” He took the gown he was still wearing off and sat shirtless as he looked to you.

“‘Course,” you said as you took his face in your hands, standing before him. You watched as he let himself revel in the warmth of your touch, sighing heavily as he closed his tired eyes and leaned into your palm.

“Maybe a week off will do me some good,” he mused. “Plus if I’m not there, no reason for you to be, either.”

“Who’s gonna make sure your paperwork gets finished if I’m not there? Or redirect your calls?” you asked as you moved your hands from his face, running your fingers soothingly through his short, dark brown hair instead.

“That’s what the front desk ladies are for. You could use the time off, too. We’ll have our own little vacation,” he sweet talked as he stared up at you like you were his whole world.

“A whole week…” you pondered aloud. “We should use that time well,” you suggested.

“What do you have in mind?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you bit your lip. “I don’t know... What do you think about eloping?”

Lee’s eyes widened as he looked at you confused and almost shocked.

“You want a shotgun wedding?” he asked.

“You don’t have to call it that,” you said, embarrassed. Taking a breath as your hands fell gently to his shoulders. “You want to run for reelection, don’t you?”

Lee nodded in response, and you could see the dots connecting as he did with a sigh of his own.

“You and I both know how important the church vote is for you. Doubt they’ll be all too happy with their chosen sheriff moving his pregnant girlfriend into his home before they’re married.” Lee rolled his eyes but knew you were right.

“Just doesn’t seem fair to you,” he said.

“I think I prefer it,” you replied with a small smile. “Less stress around planning,” you offered.

“If that’s what you want, babydoll, that’s what we’ll do. As long as you’re happy. And as long as I get to call you my wife once it’s all said and done,” he smirked as he pulled you closer to him with his right arm around your waist, “I’m happy, too. And if it helps my approval ratings, well that’s just the cherry on top of the sundae.”

You laughed as you bent to place a kiss to his forehead which he gratefully accepted before he rested his head against your tummy, placing a kiss of his own to your stomach as his hand rubbed your lower back.

“I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with you. Grow this little family of ours,” he smiled affectedly. “Wouldn’t want any of this with anyone else. Only you. The good and the bad, I’ll take all of it as long as I know I’ll have you by my side.”

“You’ll always have me by your side,” you promised as you looked down at him, your adoration, devotion, and love to him and your future family together gleaming brightly in your eyes. “Always.”

[be-my-ally]

Caught in a Trap

This has been a WIP since…. January? It predates my Tumblr anyhow - the concept is, uh, ridiculous, a cheesy rom-comesque situation. But for some reason, I just love having pretend arguments with Elvis - it’s honestly one of my go-to scenarios. Then, this prompt came along and I thought, huh, I’m pretty sure this would work with this, so I dug it out from the depths of my files and here we are xx 

prompt fill: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

pairing: Elvis (1961/2) / fem!Reader 

warnings: 18+, kind of manipulative!elvis, accusations of cheating, fake date, kissing, the suggestion of oral sex… but nothing actually pictured (honestly …. this is because i feel like all i’ve done recently is write the exact same description of it …. so if anyone wants to send me those time machine instructions so i can get some more inspo that would be *great*) . fictional member of the entourage as like a billy-esque person, but just a teeny bit older. Jerry hanging around when he may not have been - i’m envisioning he just popped over for something rather than working for e in this one but that may just be bc i wrote him into it and need an excuse for him to be there.

summary: essentially an alternative, younger, take of the older, sexier ‘We can’t go on together’ - Confronting Elvis about his casual kissing and the aftermath of being told ‘sure, its fine if you want to find someone else to take you out’ - spoiler…. It’s not fine. 

wc: 4.4k

as always for the dolls @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain

It’s difficult, having these conversations with him, they somehow always turn accusing - both of you slinging accusations at one another. But you can’t keep watching him go on as he is, can’t keep watching from the sidelines where he’s ensconced you between the walls of Graceland. It’s painful at best, humiliating at worst, watching him with his hands on the necks of other girls, kissing their cheeks - or god forbid their lips at the gates, in the car. Wherever he happens to be. He’s always liked girls, chased after them ever since he was old enough to want to and he didn’t often see much harm in chasing now either. Maybe you would see less harm yourself, in his careless affection for his fans,  if you felt like he was putting in enough effort to you - that you weren’t just being taken advantage of. But as much as you struggle through, logically knowing he loves you, it doesn’t really feel like it at the moment. It comes to a head one evening when he stalks through the front door, furious that you’d leapt from the car and stormed up to the house when he was “just talking! I was just talkin’ to her! What did you want me to do!”

You’d awkwardly stood there in the foyer, chest heaving with your emotions but uncertain what was best to say, when he’d continued his rant; 

“Oh naw, C’mon now, you wanna have it out, let’s have it out. C’mon, what’s the problem?” You sigh, 

“Noth-” He huffs at you, crossing his arms, his reddish-brown suit crinkling with the motion, as if telling you he knows that’s a lie. “Ok, fine. I don’t see why you always gotta let ‘em be all over you.” That’s barely the half of it, but no good ever comes from these arguments with him. 

“They’ve been waiting out there for hours, it’s the least I could do!” He shakes his head, “No, this has gotta be more than just some lil jealous thing, so go on - what’s wrong, I’ve not been treatin’ you enough?” You flinch as if you’ve been slapped, its a mean accusation and he knows it; the implication that’s all you’re there for, as if you hadn’t been there before; hadn’t waited with barely a phone call a week for two years for him to come home. Despite your best efforts you can feel your eyes filling with tears, though you attempt to furiously blink them away, knowing he hates it. He sighs, “Nah, I’m sorry baby, that wasn’t, that wasn’t fair, what is it?” He grabs your arm, slinking around so that he’s cupping you against his chest, “C’mon no need for that, what is it botherin’ you?” It’s almost comical, the degree to which he is in denial about his own affinity for being the problem, but you’ve already had enough of the discussion and just want it to be over now. So you clutch at straws, mind grabbing the first thing that he might find as an acceptable reason for your poor mood; 

“Elvie - Baby, I just, I never get to go out anymore.” He huffs again, pulling back a little so he can look down at you, he rolls his eyes, as if he’s about to disagree before he looks to the side, deflating a little. 

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair to you - pretty young dolls should be taken out every night of the damn week,” You frown, you’re barely two years younger than he is, “but baby, I gotta, gotta work, I’m just so goddamn busy at the moment sweetheart, I can’t just, I just don’t have the time.” You pout at him, understanding but still unhappy. He pulls you around to sit down, sitting beside you, your thighs touching. 

It hadn’t been a total lie; you weren’t happy about the evenings sat waiting at home, just hoping tonight would be the night he shows up when he said he would. He stares out the window a moment, clearly thinking. He meets your eyes, holding your gaze for so long that you feel like you have to look away before saying, “Well gee honey,” his tone full of faux nonchalance, “maybe, uh, maybe you can go on dates if you wanna. Find someone to take you out when I can’t. Just…just as long as you’re being good on ‘em. Real good, mama, you hear me?” You’re a little confused what’s being proposed but you hurriedly nod all the same, “I don’t wanna hear about your mouth bein’ places it shouldn’t.” You’re quick to agree, 

“Of course, it’s more, I just want the company El, I still don’t have many girlfriends here in Memphis now, but I don’t wanna be kissing anyone but you.” He pats your leg, nodding almost magnanimously, clearly pleased at his generosity of the suggestion, 

“Well then sure, honey, go and have fun. Actually, that’ll solve my problem with the Colonel too.” 

So with that permission, when two weeks later one of the boys - Tommy, approached you and asked timidly if you wanted to go out with him that night, “I-uh know you’re with Elvis, but I know you have a, uh, agreement of sorts, and I’d uh love to spend the evening with you doll.” You had gladly agreed. Elvis wasn’t even going to be home, and he had said you could go out; who better than one of his boys? 

You’re surprised, in the late evening, how good of a time you’re having, even as you can’t help but compare; Elvis would have opened that door for you. Elvis would have had a bouquet in his hand, if not something more extravagant. Elvis would have sat on the same side of the table as you. Elvis wouldn’t have flinched away when your elbows touched. Still, for being with someone who wasn’t Elvis you were having a nice enough time and it was fun to spend some time acting your age again. Being normal. It wasn’t necessarily something you’d want to do super often but both you and Tommy were aware your heart was elsewhere and so you didn’t have to worry about letting him down, and he made sure you were both still having a good time. It was honestly just nice to be out, and not accosted while doing so. You’re sucking up the last of your milkshake, well aware the date is going nowhere and therefore not ashamed to noisily suck up the dregs, the loud noise making Tommy chuckle. 

“You know doll - when EP suggested this I thought he’d gone insane, but I’ve had a good time tonight.” The pet name flowed off of his tongue as easily as it seemed to in all of Elvis’ southern entourage but you can’t help but wince internally a tiny bit at his usage. However, you’re immediately distracted by the rest of his sentence, the last of the milkshake turning to what felt like pure ice running through your throat to your tummy, 

“Sorry, did you just say… Elvis suggested this?” Tommy suddenly looks a little bashful, eyes wide,   

“Uh - yeah, I thought…he said he thought the press would stop hounding you so much if uh - you looked unattached from him? Said people were starting to guess you were uhhh goin’ steady stead of just seein’ him. So he told me to take you out - dinner and a movie, make sure we were seen and uhhh…. told me I could do whatever you asked….you know keepin’ up ‘ppearances but to keep my hands to myself.” You’re stunned, and feel so, so very stupid. You’d honestly thought he liked you, at the very least as a friend, and while you had had no intention of it being anything but an evening that might make Elvis jealous you still had liked the attention.  

“…sorry, are you saying that you were paid to go on this date with me?”

“Uhhh look, I thought you knew! I thought it was a joint thing, and I uh wasn’t paid anything more than I norm-lly would for an evening’s work. Ain’t like I took much persuadin’ - you’re a pretty girl!” Well there was that at least. “I didn’t meanta offend ya or anythin.” he sounds sincere, and while you’re still shaken by this revelation your brain is running through scenarios that may make the evening still worthwhile. You smooth your features, and smile up at him glancing at him under your eyelashes 

“Well-there’s one way you can make it up to me.” It’s like he can tell where your mind has gone and he looks sideways nervously, 

“Uh, well see here though doll, Elvis… he’ll kill me. He’ll kill me dead.” You let out a little, fake, giggle. 

“Oh no it’s just a game -  he’s just foolin with you, the silly goose.” You worry you might be laying it on a bit thick but he definitely is starting to relax. “Look, I uh, don’t think he’d be thrilled to see anything in the papers but look, if you let Jerry catch us in the caddy; I’ll double whatever Elvis was gonna pay you…” He still looks uncertain, and you panic for a second before you get a sudden flash of inspiration - “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t go mad at you.” He still looks worried but is clearly on the fence, “… and I’ll put in a good word with Jackie for you.” His face lights up. Jackpot. 

It’s awkward as you drive back, both of you preparing for it, he clearly wants to know why on earth you seem to have lost your mind but is evidently too afraid to ask. And you’re spending the time wondering the exact same thing, but, at the end of the day… Elvis can only be so mad, right? He does basically the same thing all the time. When he pulls into the spot designated for the car, you turn to him - there needs to be ground rules. 

“Ok. Hands above my waist. At all times.” He nods, eyes wide, “Ok, ok this’ll be fine. Just a kiss - a regular kiss, no tongue or anything.” He nods again, rapidly, like the fear is subsiding somewhat and he can’t quite believe his luck. 

You don’t have to wait long, you’d timed it almost perfectly for when you knew Jerry would be heading out to meet his current girl. You can see him stand there and put his hand up to his forehead, attempting to block your headlights which you’d ‘accidentally’ bumped on when he started to walk up.“Ok,” You look over at Tommy, inching across the seat, “Ok, quick before he goes,” You don’t allow it to go on for very long, but certainly long enough and it’s only shortly after when you pull away, acting as if you were in a daze; quickly flicking off the lights and killing the power entirely. When you glance up again, Jerry’s gone.

‘Shit.’ You think, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. It was one thing to give a performative kiss, for a reason -  to a fan begging for it, but quite another to have potentially done so without an audience. It makes you feel strangely guilty about the whole evening. You thank Tommy again, making it clear it’s time for him to leave; he gets out when you do and starts to heads towards the house but before he’s taken three steps you’re calling back to him,  “Uh Tommy, just in case - unless he sends for you, I’d probably lay low until I have a chance to speak to him.”  He looks back at you and nods. Despite your assurances (and his clear desire to go out with Jackie) you can tell he was still apprehensive about facing Elvis. He changes the direction he was heading in, instead heading for the back entrance - clearly about to go and find some of the other boys to hang out with - or maybe bum a lift home from one of them, while you get out of your car, smooth your dress and hair and head for the front door. 

You walk in, expecting pretty much a party since it was the right time of night for that to be happening and hear nothing but Elvis at the piano; your stomach plummets, it’s rare he’s home at this time, and even rarer that he’s clearly alone - you feel even guiltier about what you’ve done. He’d clearly wanted you to have him to come home to, no doubt knowing you’d choose him over anyone. You head straight for the music room tucked in the corner of the foyer and see him sat there, mindlessly playing humming along but looking out the window. 

“Hi Honey,” You go to greet him with a kiss, but he turns to face you and you realise you’ve severely miscalculated; 

“Hi Honey” he mocks you in a high pitched tone, it deepens as he continues to stare directly at you, “Jerry just called me from the car. He had some mighty interestin’ gossip to tell me.” He pats the bench “why dontcha sit down and let me share it with you.” You look around nervously but he really has cleared the place out and there’s no one to excuse yourself with, nor can you think of any good reason to refuse him, so you do as he demands. You hope Tommy had headed back out himself. You try to keep your face expressionless forcibly relaxing your jaw, anxious not to let Elvis know you’re worried; how’re you the one who’s feeling so nervous? Although you’d expected some reaction you hadn’t expected to have to face up to the consequences so soon. Despite everything telling you not to, you sit close to him, thighs touching. You’d normally hook an ankle around his, but that’s a step too far today. His fingers play a little tune while you wait for him to talk. 

“You steppin’ out on me baby?” His tone is level, in a way that says his anger has gone past hot temper and straight into cold fury. If he wasn’t so enraged you might find him amusing, sounding a bit like a petulant little boy pretending to be a man. You look over at him, suddenly furious that he, who orchestrated this whole evening, might take offence that you took part in it.

“If I was it’s because you arranged it.” He hits a flat note. 

“Because you asked me to.” He’s got an edge of a condescending tone about him, and he talks slowly, like he’s spelling something out for you. “You told me I never take you out anymore and you’d find someone who would. I found someone for you. Thought you’d be happy.” He shrugs. 

“So….what exactly is the problem here then?” Your tone is less than polite, but you had expected him to rage at you and his opposite reaction has unnerved you. You go to stand up, exhausted already at the argument that he appears to be ready to have again. It wasn’t how you’d expected this to go - you thought he’d apologise, make up, move on; although you should know by now that he rarely, if ever, apologises for anything. As you round the corner by him, his hand whips out and he grabs your wrist, 

“I ain’t done talking to you yet little girl.” You have no choice but to pause where you are, 

“I don’t see what’s left to talk about - I did what I said I was going to do, and you arranged it. Did you want me to say thank you? Thank you for insulting me like that?” 

He looks over at you and he’s talking fast, lowly like he wants to get his point across as quickly as possible. His head dipping to look up at you from under his eyelashes, his hand that wasn’t clutching you gesturing with his speech; 

“N-ow baby, I didn’t have an issue with you bein’ taken out, you’re right I probably don’t spend enough time treatin’ you to all that … although I think you get enough treats. But….Jerry’s just told me there was somethin’ else goin’ on. That’s different from bein’ taken out to dinner baby,” his eyes flash, and he looks you dead in your own, and despite how awkward you feel you can’t look away, his accent growing stronger as his emotions get the better of him; “that’s you steppin out o’line, steppin’ out on me. How are we gonna solve this problem?”

He’s still got a hold of your wrist and he’s holding onto it so tightly, you’re positive it’ll bruise if he holds on much longer. His eyes are burning as he looks over at you, and you can’t help but let yours fill with tears. He shakes his head and wiggles your arm, 

“No. Darlin’ don’t you start with them crocodile tears until we got this all straightened out.” He tugs you to stand in front of him as he swivels to sit sideways on the bench. As you try to swallow your tears indignation rises within you; 

“You’re not being fair. You step out on me all the damn time El. Lord above, I’m surprised if you’re not out more than you’re in.” He frowns, “and more than that, you arranged it all tonight! manoeuvred me about just how you wanted! How did you expect me to react Elvis? Of course I wanted to get back at you. Give you a little taste of how I feel all the goddamn time.”

“Baby,” His tone as if he’s talking to a child, “I’ve told you before - it’s different for me I’ve -“

‘I swear to god E, if you say you’ve got needs one more fucking time, we’re through and I really mean it this time.” He sucks in a breath, like despite all he’s done he didn’t expect the ultimatum, and usually you’d expect it to annoy him further - for him to tell you fine, go then. But he doesn’t, instead he looks down, suddenly forlorn as if you’ve knocked the wind from his sails. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say doll, I can’t bear the thought of you with someone else.” He’s still looking down, at your feet, like a little boy being told off. You hate how it immediately endears him to you again, how you’re immediately thinking of ways you could make him feel better. 

“Well why should I have to bear it with you?”

He looks sideways, “It’s ju-just,” he’s clearly nervous and he stutters through the next, “baby I have spoken to the Colonel ‘bout all this, d-d- don’t think I haven’t, he just ain’t keen on me having a girl at the moment. I don’t see how you can come with me everywhere and it not be clear we’re together.” You shake your arm where it’s still in his grip, forcing him to look at you. 

“Well El- are we together? Because there’s puttin’ on a show for whatever reason and then there’s sneakin’ girls back when no-ones looking.” Your own accent is coming out stronger as you get louder. 

“There ain’t no other girls darling,” he sighs, “I dunno how many times I’ve gotta tell you that.” 

“That’s just not true, if it was we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.” He shakes his head, hair starting to come out of its coiffed position with the force of it,

“I swear baby you’re the only girl for me.” You nod, and step forward to put your hands on either side of his face. He leans into them, eyelashes fluttering unconsciously. 

“I know you think that when I’m here, but what about when I’m not?” 

“I-I don’t know how you’re turning this onto me doll, when you’re the one kissin’ someone else tonight. I’ve been here on my lonesome waiting for you to come home.” You laugh, squeezing his cheeks causing his lips to pucker as he talks, 

“Elvis. That’s my life every night.” He frowns. 

“Darling, they don’t mean nothing though! I swear it’s just for show! I haven’t had another girl in any way that matters since I met you baby.” You frown back at him, that wasn’t what you’d heard, and ‘not in any way that matters’ doesn’t mean not at all but his earnest expression, with his eyes wide, seems desperate for you to believe him. “Please baby, you hafta believe me.” He pleads, and you can feel yourself slipping, 

“Hmmm. Well….if you say so.” You shrug, about to pull away to take a breath and attempt to regain your thoughts without his eyes imploring you.  He stands, wrapping his arms around your midriff, with a little wiggle before you can get any further away. A hand travels up to your neck, almost feeling like he’s scruffing you, but his thumb rubs over a pressure point and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease with each gentle stroke of his finger. 

“I swear, mama.” You look up at him, his lips parted - blue eyes earnest, for once not clouded by eyeliner or make-up, “I swear, I- I uh like the attention but I mean I’m a hot blooded man, I can’t turn that off baby, and if a girl’s gonna throw herself at me, I’m not gonna shove her away.” You frown, you’d been about to cave in to anything he said, but you’re hesitant again now - unsure what you’d be agreeing to if not, essentially, giving him permission to do whatever the hell he likes. His hand grips your hip tighter, as if he can sense he’s losing you. “No, c’mon baby, you know it makes sense - it’s, it don’t mean nothing, I swear it, I swear it on, on,” He looks around desperate for divine inspiration, “On my Mama’s grave I swear - you’re my girl.” You’re taken aback by that, it wasn’t something you’d ever heard him say before and Gladys’ name wasn’t ever brought up in any kind of jest. You can’t help but totally believe him. You duck your head, hating yourself a little for making him swear such a promise, 

“Oh no, Elvis, I only kissed him to get back at you - make you jealous.” He tucks your head against him, holding you close and shushes you, 

“I know sweet, I know. Bet he wasn’t even a good kisser was he? He’s just a boy, ain’t a man like you need.” You shake your head against his chest groaning a little at what you’re about to confess, playing in to his little pissing competition. 

“No…wasn’t good at all. Hadda….had to lead.” Elvis laughs, 

“Oh no, sweet little thing like you shouldn’t hafta be in charge. You oughta be taken care of.” He tips your head back and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “No more tears mama,” and he kisses you, gently - twice on the mouth before moving to the side of your face. Butterfly kisses, before leading you by the hand over to the sofa, “Lemme take care of ya, doll.” 

He sits, legs parted and his hands grip your hips holding you in place before dragging you closer, it forces you to look down at him. Simultaneously making you feel a little small, and a little like a child, you thread your fingers through his hair, weaving the strands, stiff with gel and spray past your knuckles to tilt his head up. He smiles up at you, a little private half-smile, his eyes crinkling and you’re helpless to anything except leaning down to press a kiss against it. He takes the opportunity of the momentum of your leaning down to tug you onto his lap. Breaking your hold on his hair, and the touch of your lips on his. He takes a moment to situate you, tugging with a hand under your thigh to pull you ever closer to him. Once you’re firmly tucked against his side his other hand travels up your back to support your head, as if you needed it, gripping your neck, the other a heavy presence on your thigh. You shift, helplessly trapped by his hold on you - as if you’d even want to get away, unable to do anything but melt against his chest. 

You glance about, sure that the silence and solitude you had found him in was soon to be broken, and nervous about going any further if there was a threat of being interrupted. 

“Nah, baby, no-one’s around,” He leans forward, kissing your neck, “Let - “ he moves closer, to your cheek, murmuring against your skin, “me, make it up to you.” He whispered right against your lips. You sink into him completely, lips parting of their own accord, and he delves into them. It’s perfect, despite the slightly awkward angle, and you can’t help but sigh a little breath of relief at the feeling of it, so different from the gentle, chaste kiss in the car. Utterly perfect with his sharp nippy little teeth and darting tongue. He pulls you back, shifting you back but lower, until you’re pretty much horizontal on the sofa, pulling his hand out from under your neck to lay you down completely. He shifts, tumbling off, onto his knees. 

He pulls you around with a grip on your thighs before positioning you exactly how he wants, on your back, with your feet planted firmly down, legs spread. He tugs you closer to him, so that you’re almost coming off the couch yourself, pushing your legs apart further so that he could kneel between them. You aren’t sure about this. Not in, essentially, the very first room of the house - not, right by the front door.

“C’mon I’ll make you feel good doll, and then, then I’ll take ya upstairs and you can apologise real pretty to me too.” You frown, about to protest - to suggest, ‘hey how about we go straight upstairs now?’ when all thoughts are gone from your mind as he pushes your already bunched up dress further up and leans in, his breath hot against your panties. He’s … very good at this, and you’re under no illusions that by the time he’s half carrying you on wobbly legs up the stairs that you’ll have completely forgotten about any of those other girls, and by the time he’s placing you on your knees in front of him in the bedroom, that you’ll have totally forgiven him for any future transgressions as well. 

[enjoythesilentworld]

bonus content!

bc i wrote two options for this sentence and picked the other one to post officially. so this is an unofficial post. (yes i have at least 9 others in my inbox ok i’m getting to those)

send me a ship and a sentence and i’ll write five more! or ill write more than five and accidentally start planning a kink fic. yeah ok very jay-typical.

(below the cut bc… nsfw-ish. chat, are we rocking with handcuffs?)

Admittedly, he's had better ideas.

There was Simon’s birthday, with the lace, which had been delicious, and there was his birthday, with the silk, which had been even better.

And, okay, perhaps he should’ve tried it first in a less precarious place, where dropping the key meant it falling under the bed where he can’t reach. Perhaps he should’ve only done one wrist, rather than both, and perhaps not so tight because now they’re biting into his skin. Perhaps he should’ve just waited, or not done it so far before Simon’s meant to get home from work, because by the time Simon does walk through the door, and finds him, handcuffed to their bed frame, Wille is so tightly wound he could cry.

After a moment of staring bemusedly at Wille’s pleading face, Simon asks, “Would you like some help?” and he sounds teasing, except that Wille can tell by the way Simon’s hands clench into fists and the way his pupils dilate, that this may actually have been one of Wille’s best ideas. That fact becomes even more evident when Simon takes two steps forward, gaze flicking from Wille’s wrists, down across his heaving, bare chest, down, down, down.

“Simon,” Wille says, though it comes out as a whimper.

The smirk on Simon’s face grows, then he steps forward again, hand reaching out to hover over Wille’s face. Instinctively, Wille lurches forward, itching— dying to be touched after at least an hour of this, and the bed creaks with the movements and metal clicks and pulls taut, leaving at least half a foot between him and the one thing that can ease this fire.

Again, Wille says, “Simon,” still a whimper, now almost begging.

Simon’s hand drops another inch. Almost, almost enough to touch, but not quite, and Wille could scream. He can just feel the heat of Simon’s palm against his cheek, can just feel the electricity crackling between them.

“You’ve got yourself into quite a bind, haven’t you?”

Wille nods rapidly. Simon cocks his head to the side.

“Would you like me to let you out?”

For a moment, there is a deafening silence between them. Wille does not move, and neither does Simon. His hand stays where it is, his gaze stays where it is, locked on Wille.

Slowly, very, very slowly, Wille shakes his head.

“No.” He strains forward another inch, fighting the restraints. “Please.”

[thebadgerclan]

Whole Heart

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader x Wylan Van Eck

Summary: Wylan returns from a trip to Shu Han...

A/N: I know I mentioned something smutty, but I stressed myself out with school so I needed something fluffy 😂

Also I wrote this bc WYLAN NEEDS LOVE

This was uncharted territory for Wylan.  He’d grown up without knowing any sort of love, any sort of happiness.  And now he had not one, but two of the most attractive people in the Barrel who wanted to be his.  He swore he’d wake up back in his father’s house, sure this was some cruel dream.  But he woke up every morning in yours and Jesper’s bed, in your arms, and slowly, steadily, Wylan was coming to believe in his new reality.

He’d been asked to travel to Bhez Ju to speak on behalf of the Merchant Council and their newest investment, leaving you and Jesper in Ketterdam.  “I won’t be more than a week, a week and a half at the most,” Wylan had said, which led to Jesper pouting and you drawing your lover into your arms.  “Ignore him, we’ll be fine.  I mean, we’ll miss you like crazy, but we’ll survive.”  “Speak for yourself, Y/N!” Jesper lamented.  “How am I expected to survive without my precious darling boy?”

The next morning, when you and Jesper saw him off at the docks, Wylan heavily debated throwing his bags into the harbor and making Jesper carry him home.  But he kissed you goodbye, accepted Jesper’s bone-crushing hug, and boarded the ship to Shu Han.  It was only an hour into the voyage that Wylan realized just how hard this trip would be without the two of you.  When he saw dolphins from his cabin window, all he’d wanted to do was tell you, to show Jesper, but you weren’t there.

It seemed that now that he’d gotten a taste of what it meant to be loved, Wylan couldn’t go without it.  He would do his best to push that aside and go what he’d been sent on this trip to do, but every spare moment, his thoughts were occupied by your smile, by Jesper’s laugh, by the feeling of your arms around him, keeping him safe.  Back in Ketterdam, you and Jesper were faring no better.  Wylan had only been a part of your relationship for a month or so, but in that short time, he had integrated seamlessly into your life.

Jesper came to expect the sound of flute music lilting through the halls, to smell Wylan’s shampoo on his pillow, because he could never seem to keep his head on his own; you’d come to relish Wylan popping into your study to tell you about the new piece he’d been working on or the progress he’d made with his reading.  When the three of you would fall into bed at night, it was common for Wylan to sandwich himself right between you and Jesper, wanting to be cradled in both of your arms.

But now, the halls were quiet, Jesper’s pillow smelled like his own shampoo.  Your work was uninterrupted, and the bed felt far too large.  And as nice as it was to spend some time alone with Jesper, you both missed your other lover, you missed Wylan.  The week passed far too slowly, and when the door opened on a Saturday morning, you flew from your seat in the living room.

“My baby’s home!” you cried, running into the entryway.  Wylan had barely set his bags down when you swept him into your arms, peppering his face and neck with kisses.  “Y/N!” he giggled, and oh, what a beautiful sound that was.  “Ghezen, I missed you, we both missed you, love.”  Wylan wrapped his arms around your waist and held you, nuzzling his face into your chest.  “I missed you too.”  For several minutes, you stood with your boyfriend in your arms, stroking his hair and kissing his temples.  “I love you,” you whispered, and Wylan shuddered, still somewhat unaccustomed to being openly adored.

“I love you too,” he replied, and you coaxed his head from your chest.  “I think there’s someone upstairs who’s just as excited to see you as I am.”  His face lit up at the mention of his other lover, and Wylan wound have bolted up the stairs if he hadn’t been so reluctant to let go of your hand.  But you followed him to the bedroom, where Jesper was still dozing, happily watching as Wylan perched himself on the edge of the bed.  

He bent to press a gentle kiss to the Zemini’s forehead, causing his face to scrunch up.  “Jesper,” Wylan said, kissing his cheek.  “Wake up, darling.”  “Hmm, Wylan….  Wylan?”  Jesper sat up, nearly knocking his boyfriend over, a mad smile overtaking his face.  “Wy, sweetheart, you’re home!”  “I am–oh!”  Jesper pulled Wylan into his lap and kissed him deeply, making the mercher blush.

You moved to sit on your side of the bed, draping your arm over Jesper’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “I missed you so much, baby,” Jesper said, his forehead resting against Wylan’s.  “I was only gone a week,” Wylan said, and you laughed. “It felt longer than that, honey,” you said, and Wylan was all too eager to accept your kisses, your embraces, to be showered in love and attention from you and Jesper.

It took a fair amount of convincing, but Wylan managed to separate himself from both of you long enough to change into pajamas.  The journey back to Ketterdam had been rough; storms the entire time, and Wylan hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.  And being back in his lovers’ arms had him nodding off in seconds.  “I love you,” he said, snuggling between you and Jesper; lying on his side facing you, his face pressed into your chest, with Jesper spooning him from behind.  This was usually how the three of you slept, the position letting Wylan be held by both of his lovers.

“I love you too, Wy,” Jesper replied, kissing the back of his neck.  “Love you too, baby,” you said, smoothing his hair from his face.  “We love you so much.”  Wylan’s heart felt like it could explode with how happy he was, with how much he loved the two of you, and as he fell asleep, he was smiling.  Jesper reached over his sleeping boyfriend and cupped your cheek.  You reached up and laid your hand over his, squeezing it gently.  “I have my whole heart again,” you said, and Jesper hummed.  “So do I.”

[apprenticestanheight]

More - Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

Alllllllll right!! It is my birthday and that means that I am officially one year older yay!! I'm not really big on celebrating my own birthday and instead of doing some big like, event type thing I wanted to just write a couple thousand words a week or two in advance so that I didn't have to worry about editing on the day of, and that's what this is!

This is a college-adjacent AU (Adam is canonically a hs dropout but I've been thinking about maybe working my way to a creative writing PhD lately and projected so thats where the college part comes in) bc I headcanon that Adam grew his hair out in his early twenties and also: recovery era leigh whannell my dearly beloved.

Fic type- this is fluff that leads into smut!!

Warnings - this fic is meant for audiences of 18+. Minors, do not interact. Other than that, religion is referenced once (in the context of the reader saying adams name like it's a prayer lol), the word cunt is used a few times, and the reader is gn for all intents and purposes but I wrote the fic with AFAB anatomy in mind as that is the anatomy I know best. Petplay is also kind of present here (the puppy nickname has wormed its way into several of my fics bc I try thinking of gn petnames and my mind goes completely blank oops)

As it turned out, it was easier than one expected to get someone who wasn't an attendee into your college library. You'd snuck Adam into it without a care in the world, yearning for someone to lean against when you hit a breaking point in your studying while your closest friends were two-thirds of the way into breaking points of their own.

Adam was happy to leave the crappy apartment he lived in, though. He worked forty-hour weeks but his boss had mentioned that there was unclaimed PTO so Adam took the four days he was offered from the 186 days that had been accrued and relished in the fact that he was being paid not to work for approximately a day and a half before he yearned for fresh air.

When you'd asked him to come with you to finish up the last of the work you needed to do to finish up your thesis on your 22nd birthday, Adam had jumped at the opportunity and agreed to meet you near the charity shop that was a fifteen minute walk from his apartment and a fifteen minute drive out from your campus.

Of course, in his delight he'd ended up showing twenty minutes before the time you'd agreed, so he ducked into the aforementioned charity shop and looked around to occupy the time he had before you'd meet up with him.

He found a camera for fifteen bucks, three rolls of film and a camera bag included in that deal and couldn't resist. Scott gave him $200 a few times a month for printing up a hundred copies of his bands posters to hand out, and his paycheck had run in time for the rent and groceries to eat it completely, so the two hundred was something like lifesaver.

He'd gotten $400 that January because Scott and his band were doing a lot of gigs, which came as a bit of a surprise--Adam had heard Scotts band play before. Scott was lucky most people didn't pay much attention to bar music.

That $400 was originally going to take purpose at least partially as gas money because there were some distances that it just wasn't worth walking, maybe the purchase of a pack of cigarettes from the corner store that always had deals on them--$3 for two packs was the typical deal going on, and something Adam had used to his advantage more than once in the year since he'd become legally eligible to smoke and drink--and not much else, but the camera seemed like a decent enough purchase. If he got good enough, maybe he could display the photos he took somewhere or sell them as prints to make up for the money he lost to rent and a few groceries during his first paycheck of the month, keep him from going hungry until the second paycheck of the month came in.

He dips out of the charity shop and grins when he spots you, lets you drive him and steals the rest of your energy drink when you talk about the fact that you're not sure why you thought you'd like the peach flavor, and that gets you where you are--sitting in the darkest corner of your college library, face pressed against Adams shoulder as he laughs meekly.

"You can do this," he says. "You have another, what? Three pages left and then it's done. Then you can go back to whatever else your creative writing PhD entails and worry about your dissertation next year, yeah?"

"That doesn't work," advises a close friend of yours, Aurelie. She's been studying for a masters in biology and has known you since 1993, when you were both eighteen and freshly new to the college campus. "I've tried it numerous times, Stanheight, and it doesn't."

"I should've gotten my bachelors and masters before I jumped into this," you mutter, words muffled by the sleeve of Adams baggy black sweater. "But of course the only PhD option within two hours of work was an accelerated course. Ugh."

Adam laughs pitifully, pulls your face away from his shoulder to kiss your forehead before he gets up and you give him your card to get you, himself, Aurelie and her girlfriend Samantha a coffee.

When he returns, Samantha is pulling a strand of bright green hair behind her ear and watching you struggle, eyes narrowing at the book you're trying to focus on reading to get something you need for your thesis. Aurelie is offering you a bite of the sandwich she'd brought, telling you that a bag of chips also has the potential to be yours if you can get the last of your necessary research done in time to meet your February 18th deadline.

Adam presses a kiss to the top of your head as he maneuvers back into sitting down, gesturing at the coffees to tell Aurelie and Sam which ones are theirs and which ones are yours and Adams.

Adam wraps an arm around your shoulders as you thank him, taking a sip of your coffee, the order for which Adam had memorized at some point in the four years of your relationship to that point. He kisses your temple in response, grabbing his own coffee from the tray and checking the time.

It's not until six grueling hours, sunrise and four mental breakdowns have surpassed that you're officially done with your thesis. Adam asks if you want to spend the night at his place--you're not going into classes tomorrow if the way that you talked about sleeping in is of any indication--and Aurelie gives you a high five and mentions one of the bags of Doritos she'd brought along to munch on as she studied but hadn't ended up touching.

"You officially owe them a thousand kisses, you know," Aurelie says as you tuck your notebooks into the satchel you've been using since Adam had gifted it to you when you'd walked across the stage and graduated high school three and a half years prior. "You've gotta do it. It's what they deserve."

Adam laughs, blue-green eyes meeting Aurelies hazel brown ones. "I know," he says. "Though, to be fair, I don't think they really expected three pages to turn into fifteen more tacked on."

"They did not," you state affirmatively. "Professor Mason better fuckin' love me for it, though. I hadn't expected to meet his maximum page count and I managed to, just barely. Give me the chips."

Adam and Sam both laugh at the come-hither motion you make with your finger as Aurelie gets a bag of Doritos from her bag and tosses them at you, laughing a bit herself.

"Gremlin person," she says, shuddering a little for dramatic effect. "I surrender an offering to thee."

"The gremlin thanks you for it means the gremlin can put ordering dinner off for like, an hour and a half," you laugh a little, breaking open the bag of Doritos as Adam steals your two-litre water bottle from the table and takes a sip, leaving it open if you should decide to take a sip within the following thirty seconds.

You do, taking a break in your Dorito munching to take a sip of the water while Adam steals a chip from the bag and all of your preparations to leave are temporarily put on hold.

"I'm serious about the thousand kisses thing," Aurelie says. "Four breakdowns, fifteen pages and six different books in six hours. You have to do something to celebrate that."

Adam laughs, runs a hand through hair that he has yet to cut because he can't usually afford it and when he can, there are always better ways for money to be spent.

"I know you are," he says. "For the record, I am, too. I have a plethora of plans to make Y/Ns productivity feel worth it tonight, trust me."

"Gonna let me in on one of them?"

"I set aside $200 over my last few paychecks," Adam says. "Your birthday presents await, one of which is dinner."

"Two hundred from your paychecks--even multiple--means you have less grocery money, idiot," you scold lightly, glaring at him. Adam laughs, shakes his head, uses humor to fend off the anger issues that have a tendency to come up and bite him in the ass.

"Scott gave me $400 this month to print band posters," Adam says. "Also designed them, helped hand at least two and a half dozen out to people, but--you don't need to worry, okay? I have stuff covered and I had four hundred I could spend. I didn't spend it on groceries because I didn't need to, so it's okay."

Adam knows you only get defensive because of how his pay is and how his rent and groceries are in direct correlation. He works forty hours a week, brings in six hundred and fifty dollars every two. Rent eats four hundred during that first monthly paycheck and the other two hundred and fifty gets eaten by groceries.

The second pay period of that month is swallowed by other expenses. He sets aside gas money for the rarer times wherein he has to use his car, some money for cigarettes and other pop-up expenses as well as groceries for those two weeks.

His landlord had raised the rent in January of 1997, though. All he had left of his first monthly paycheck was a measly 100 dollars, which he couldn't buy very much with as it were. Scott had given him four hundred dollars for his efforts in graphic design and his access to a printer though, so he was cool as an ice cube in the few days before the second monthly paycheck he got was deposited into his bank account and he could afford to get a couple more things to last him through until next month.

"You promise it has no harm even though your landlord raised your rent to a stupid amount?"

"Rent being raised to a stupid amount means renovations," Adam throws you a cheeky smile. "The heater works, my showerhead isn't busted like it used to be, and the fridge, microwave and oven aren't running on fumes. It has it's perks."

"If I have to force you, you will be dragged by your gorgeous hair to the college apartments one of these days," you say. "They let non-attendees rent out the units year round for three hundred a month. You could actually afford to live if you went that route."

"You'd also be able to afford a haircut," Samantha chirps. You glare at her and Adam has to laugh, pressing his forehead against your shoulder and kissing it as he does.

You part ways thirty minutes later, waving goodbye to Sam and Aurelie as Adam asks who's place you want to go to.

You end up choosing to go to yours--you live in one of the apartment buildings owned and managed by your college. Its one of the many perks attached to the full ride scholarship you earned. It wasn't an easy feat, but you earned it from doing a collaborative photo and written essay that your english teacher called 'completely and totally heartwrenching' on the emotional support stray cats have proven to offer the homeless and those otherwise down on their luck.

Your apartment is nicer than Adams by half a mile, at least. Twelve hundred square feet, two bedrooms for the off chance someone has to move in. White walls, dark brown hardwood flooring, marble countertops in the bathrooms and kitchens, up-to-date appliances wherever such appliances are necessary. It's a good place, ten minutes out from your college campus by car, and you have every intent to keep living there and paying the rent attached once you're done with your PhD.

You and Adam debate dinner but decide to eat it later, go to your room while you talk idly. Adam tells you about his job, you tell him more about the professors who you like, and life carries on.

Adam relaxes in your room while you shower, happy to test the camera he'd bought in the charity shop by taking a photo of a polaroid you'd snapped the previous weekend. Adam has a love-hate relationship with the polaroid because of how goofy it is--it's a photo of him with two cigarettes in his mouth, one behind each of his ears, and one in his hand. They were horrendous cigarettes so the photo wasn't a waste, and he knew you loved it so he let it be.

You come out after fifteen minutes, hair damp as you wear one of Adams shirts and not much else. He grins as you settle into bed, head tilting at you before the question befalls his lips.

"How would you feel if I were to do what Aurelie practically demanded of me?" He asks, unawares as to whether or not you'd heard her remarks. "If I kissed you a thousand times?"

You ghost your teeth over your bottom lip, laughing softly. "You really think you'd be able to keep track?" Adams hand finds your thigh as he nods, palm running across it until he reaches your hip.

"I do," he says. "And besides--I think we kiss at least two hundred times when I wear the gray sweatpants in autumn anyway."

Your tongue juts out to wet your lip. "Okay," you say, realizing very quickly that 1000 kisses is basically the gateway to bliss. "I'm in."

"Really?" Adam asks, grinning like a fool. "Even if I take it slow and you start despising me for it?"

You nod, laughing a little as Adams lips find yours.

The first kiss is deep and intense, one of Adams hands on your hips as the other moves to up your face.

Adams tongue moves expertly around your mouth, thumb rubbing against the skin of your hip gently as he angles your head so that he can kiss you deeper. You moan into his mouth and he laughs a little, only pulling away when neither of you can breathe.

"999 to go," Adam whispers against your lips, smiling when the sound of your laughter meets his ears.

He kisses along your jawline.

998, 997, 996, 995

And then down your neck, tongue joining his lips as his hands move from your hips to your stomach, slowly and steadily inching up your chest.

You're happy to let Adam do as he pleases--it's a good enough gift for hitting twenty-two and because of studying and school getting in the way, you'd not really had much of an opportunity to give him anything significant for his 22nd birthday in the weeks before anyway.

One of your hands finds his hair as his lips remain focused on your neck and you undo the low ponytail he's got it in, moaning out his name as he keeps on going with his kisses.

994, 993, 992, 991, 990, 989, 988, 987

His hands keep their steady incline upwards, stopping to tease your nipples as he presses kiss after absolutely intoxicating kiss back up your neck and your jawline, grinning against your jawline when a soft moan falls from your lips and he tucks his knee between your thighs, pressing it against your core.

986, 985, 984, 983, 982, 981, 980

He captures your lips in his own, one hand moving up to cradle the back of your head and allow the kiss to deepen. The other one stays carefully focused on your nipple, and you laugh into his mouth as you realize he's fighting the urge to smile.

He pulls away to kiss down the other side of your neck and you manage to regain some of your breath thanks to your best efforts.

"Any regrets yet?"

"None at all," Adam laughs against your neck. "Oh, you're gonna be such a mess when I'm done with you. This is amazing."

979, 978, 976, 975, 974, 973, 972, 971, 970

You pull the shirt you'd stolen from Adam off your torso, fighting every single urge you have to grind against his leg as his kisses now start traversing down your chest.

He's the kind of person who commits to an action and it's a very good thing, ordinarily. He wants you to be so kissed up you forget your own name, only really remember his if you remember anyones name at all, and he's committed to that. His kisses will keep slow, his lips glorious and the pressure he puts onto your clit and aching core just enough to make you want to start grinding against him.

He kisses your breasts carefully, takes so much time with your nipples that you're almost completely sure there's a wet spot in his sweatpants from how wet the action has made you, laughs slightly when you moan loudly and become embarrassed.

969, 968, 967, 965, 964, 963, 962, 961, 959, 958, 957, 956, 954, 953, 952, 951, 950

"I love it when you get loud for me, baby," he whispers as he moves his lips down your chest and to your navel. You know he's going to take an absurd amount of time to kiss your hips, but you don't mind that.

You've always been particularly insecure about your hips and Adam has spent the majority of your relationship kissing them and holding them and telling you he loves them when your insecurity shines through. You hate your hips and you hate the hip dips you've been saddled with but Adam? You tell Adam he can't kiss your hips and he spends the next hour kissing you and telling you that you and your hips are fuckin' perfect.

He kisses down your navel and, of course, finds your hips. He glances at you for a second, waiting for your consent to kiss them because he knows it's an area of insecurity for you. When you nod, Adam can't fight his smile as he kisses across your stomach to your right hip, which he spends more time on than is probably worth.

He presses kiss after kiss there, probably leaving a hickey in the wake of his lips from his tongues involvement, murmurs an "I love you so much, baby," against your skin as he kisses across your stomach from your right hip to your left.

He takes his time with your left hip just as well, chuckles at the fact that you're so turned on that you've mindlessly let your moans go from quiet to average in terms of sound level because you've mostly stopped caring.

949, 948, 947, 946, 945, 944, 943, 942, 941, 940, 939, 938, 937, 936, 935, 934, 933, 932, 931, 930, 929, 928, 927, 926, 925, 924, 923, 921, 920

He kisses down to your dripping cunt, laughs when his lips press themselves against your clit because he knows just how wet he's managed to make you within maybe thirty minutes.

He moves his kisses from your wetness to your inner thighs, happy to kiss them for as long as he wants because he loves your thighs as much as he loves your hips--he loves them wholeheartedly, tells you as much as often as possible.

"Love your thighs, puppy," he whispers, breath ghosting against you in a way that makes you shiver. "You're so fucking perfect, yeah?"

You hum a response, unsure of how you're still even slightly coherent.

919, 918, 917, 916, 915, 914, 913, 912, 911, 910, 909, 908, 907, 906, 905, 904, 903, 902, 901, 900

He kisses from your right inner thigh to your left, once again taking his time because of how much he loves them. His hands slip under your thighs to find your hips, and you laugh a little, flustered because the fact of how much he loves your hips and hip dips when they're one of your biggest points of insecurity will never cease to turn you into a blushing idiot.

He laughs against your thigh, eyes keenly watching you. He's always been a bit voyeuristic so the fact that he's watching you is of little surprise, but you don't hate the way that he watches because he looks at you like you're the love of his life.

Granted, he always looks at you like that, but still. It's a nice emotion to register within the levelness of his gaze, the focus swimming in his blue-green eyes muddled by the love and adoration that rears itself upwards whenever he so much as glances in your direction.

899, 898, 897, 896, 895, 894, 893, 892, 891, 890, 889, 888, 887, 886, 885, 884, 883, 882, 881, 880

"So perfect," he whispers, kissing from your thigh back to the area just above your clit. He kisses from there back up your stomach, stopping once more to pay an absurd amount of attention to your hips and hip dips before he's kissing over your chest and you're another minute, maybe two, away from being so blissed out that you lose any and all senses of coherency onto which you've previously held.

"Adam," you whisper, saying his name like it's an unanswered prayer in an empty catholic church. "Adam, please."

His knee finds a spot between your legs again, and you moan as he presses it against your clit while his kisses move from your chest back to your neck.

879, 878, 877, 876, 875, 874, 873, 872, 871, 870, 869, 868, 867, 865, 864, 863, 862, 861, 860, 859, 858, 857, 856, 855, 854, 853, 852, 851, 850, 849, 848, 847, 846, 845, 843, 842, 841, 840

One of his hands finds your hip, the other one coming up to your lips. He presses his thumb against your bottom lip you take it into your mouth without a second thought, holding Adams gaze.

"Good puppy," he whispers, moaning lowly and pressing his forehead against the left side of your neck. "Oh, you're so good for me."

You moan, rutting your hips against his leg before you can stop yourself. The movement makes Adam grin, lift himself up so that he's staring down at you.

"You're desperate, aren't you?" He asks, a teasing grin on his face. "Keep doing that, mm? Grind against my leg, puppy. I know you want a release."

You moan, setting a pace with your hips as Adam slips his finger from your mouth and moves it to your chest, lips returning to your neck.

839, 383, 837, 836, 835, 834, 833 832, 831, 830, 829, 828, 287, 826, 825

Adams lips remain on your neck, occasionally drifting to your collarbone, upper chest and shoulders. He's relentless with his praise because he knows it's bound to make you melt, and make you melt it absolutely does.

"You're ethereal," he whispers, nipping gently at the skin of your collarbone. "I'm so proud of you, puppy. Workin' so hard to finish with your PhD program, you're fuckin' amazing."

You moan in response, needing more friction. Adam presses his knee against your clit further, adding just a bit more pressure--enough pressure to almost make you lose it.

You moan lewdly, hands slipping underneath his shirt to grip the skin of his back. The action makes Adam laugh, his kisses becoming more slow and deliberate as he starts kissing along your neck and eventually tilts your head up to reach the underside of your jaw.

"You're so perfect," he whispers.

824, 823, 822, 821, 819, 818, 817, 816, 815 814, 813, 812, 810

His kisses traverse back down your neck for what feels like the millionth time, and he kisses your shoulders and collarbone in a way that he knows makes you want him inside you more than will ever be reasonable.

When his kisses move down your chest and he adjusts so that he's not stuck in an uncomfortable position, you whimper at the loss of contact as his leg moves.

He's quick with it, though--one of his hands moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles as he tells you to grind against it in place of his knee.

809, 808, 807, 806, 805, 804, 803, 802, 801, 800

Before you can really register it, his lips are pressing kiss after senseless kiss against your inner thighs and you're moaning, begging words falling from your lips because all you want is to feel his tongue pressing flat against you while he slowly thrusts a finger into your folds.

He presses a few kisses against your clit, watching you through his eyelashes.

You look like a picture of bliss--one of your hands clutches the sheets, the other one has pulled itself through your hair so many times that a mess has been made of it, and you're biting your lower lip with anticipation.

His hands slide themselves under your thighs and over your hips, finding their favorite spot as his tongue presses flat against your clit. You press your head into the pillow it rests upon, moaning lewdly at the contact.

799, 798, 797, 796, 795, 794, 793, 792, 791, 790, 789, 788, 787, 786, 785, 784, 783, 782, 781, 780, 779, 778, 777, 776, 775, 774, 773, 772, 771, 770, 769, 768, 767, 765, 764, 763, 762, 761, 759, 758, 757, 756, 754, 753, 752, 751, 750

Adams tongue is skilled--eating you out is one of the things that gets you both off the quickest, and because of Aurelies words, you have zero doubt you're in for at least another few orgasms before Adam is done, but the way that his tongue feels against you is so good that you remain entirely unbothered by the idea, focusing on the way that his tongue feels when he presses it flat against your clit and the way that his hands feel as one locates your nipples and the other remains on your hip with the aim of keeping you steady.

When you start helplessly grinding against his face, Adam doesn't stop you. He moans, burying his face in your cunt and letting you ride his face paceless and senseless, clearly just wanting you to cum all over his nose, mouth, and chin.

When you come for the first time that night, you do so with a moan of Adams name before you release over his face. He keeps his tongue on your clit and works you through the aftershocks before he pulls away, lifting himself up to your level again and kissing you soft and slow, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He cleans his face after your kiss, gets back into bed and presses kiss after kiss against your face, neck, and shoulders, delivering praise to you like it's nothing, and you can tell he means every word.

"You're amazing," he whispers. "You did so good for me, puppy."

Forty minutes of kisses go by, and you're happy to let Adam keep kissing you for the rest of time if he wants to.

749. 748, 747, 746, 745, 744, 743, 742, 741, 740, 739, 738, 737, 736, 735, 734, 732, 731, 730, 729, 728, 727, 726, 725, 724, 723, 722, 721, 720, 719, 718, 717, 716, 715, 714, 713, 712, 711, 710, 709, 708, 707, 706, 705, 704, 793, 792, 701, 700

"How many kisses down?" You ask, practically swimming in post-orgasm bliss.

"300," Adam grins cheekily at you. "It's been an hour and a half. That basically sets us up for another four hours."

"What time is it?" You ask. Adam checks the clock.

"About to be six thirty," he says. "We'll be done by around ten if you're still wanting me to actually kiss you a thousand times."

"Do you still want to?"

"I wouldn't tire of kissing you even if I gave it my all, so I'd like to, yeah."

You grin at him, nod. "Please kiss me again."

Adam does as you ask of him, smiling a little bit into the kiss as your hands slip underneath his shirt with the aim of eventually slipping the shirt over his head.

He pulls away to take his shirt and pants off, momentarily feeling guilt for being completely clothed while you were completely exposed.

The guilt fades when you're pulling him back into you by the neck and laughter bubbles up from his throat as he calls you a kiss fiend and moves to press kisses along your jawline.

You let him kiss you senseless, counting down the kisses while you have half the mind to do so, before he's taken you and turned you into a thoughtless, brainless version of yourself that's so clouded by bliss that any other emotion pushing past the weightlessness of how you'll feel is completely and totally inconceivable.

Adam has kissed you one hundred and fifty five more times across forty-five minutes by the time that you lose focus, as he's telling you to turn around so that he can kiss your back and you're doing as he asks because of how good the kisses feel and the fact that you never want them to stop.

He kisses along your shoulder blades, down the backs of your arms and the back of your neck, praising you and making sure you're not completely and totally blissed out by asking you to use your words and tell him how good it feels.

He kisses the backs of your hips, smiles against your skin and then turns you back around, kisses your lips sweetly as his hand trails down your chest, past your stomach, to your clit. He laughs, presses a kiss against your forehead when he presses his finger against your clit and you moan because it's throbbing and the touch feels amazing.

"Adam," you whisper. "Please."

Adam nods, rubs slow circles around your clit as his lips press themselves against your neck.

545, 544, 543, 542, 541, 540, 539, 538, 537, 3537, 535, 534, 533, 532, 531, 530, 529, 528, 527, 526, 525

The pace he sets with his finger is slow, his lips pressing kiss after kiss to your neck as you slip further and further into the bliss of it all. You're pretty much content to let Adam do whatever he wants to you at this point, all of the stress from completing your thesis and trying to figure out plans with Aurelie and Sam to celebrate your birthday melting away with every single one of Adams kisses and the pressure of his fingers.

524, 523, 522, 521, 520, 519, 518, 517, 516, 515, 514, 513, 512, 511, 510, 509, 508, 507, 506, 505, 504, 503, 502, 501, 500

Adam replaces his fingers with his thumb, pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss as he slowly thrusts his fingers into you.

You moan into his mouth, grinding against his fingers slowly.

"So good for me, puppy," Adam whispers against your lips. "God, you're so perfect."

You moan again in response, and Adams lips dip to your collarbone, paying attention to it like he hasn't since the kisses began. He fucks you with his fingers as his lips press kiss after fervent kiss against your shoulders, collarbone, and chest, dick throbbing because he hasn't let himself come yet.

When you're coming for the second time, Adam is kissing you and you're practically floating, willing to do any and everything he asks of you. His kisses are perfect and he knows how to make you teeter on the edge of release until he's ready to let you go, and he does such, kissing you senseless until he curls his fingers inside you with each of his thrusts and you're coming undone around his fingers within five minutes after those ministrations had begun.

You moan his name into his mouth, and he pulls away from the kiss as you clench around his fingers.

Clean up is simple enough--after he's kissed you through the aftershocks and pulled his fingers out of you, he simply licks his fingers clean while you watch him, dazed but mesmerized.

499, 498, 487, 496, 495, 494, 493, 492, 491, 490, 489, 488, 487, 486, 485, 484 483, 482, 481, 480, 479, 478, 476, 475 473, 472, 471, 470, 469, 468, 467, 466, 465, 464, 463, 462, 461, 460

"Adam," you whisper. "There are condoms in my nightstand. Need to feel more than your fingers."

"Y/N--" two times across three hours feels like a stretch, and he knows you have zero intention to go to class for the rest of the week because you've finished up with your thesis and thus, there's no point until you have to pass it in on it's due date, but still. Adam doesn't want to leave you so sore that you can't walk when you're a college student with more things to worry about than he.

"Please," you whisper. "I'll be fine, I promise. I had hoped the 1000 kisses thing would mean I got fucked senseless anyway. I already told my professors not to expect me for another week because of how much work I've done, and how badly I need a break. I need to feel you and you're throbbing because you've only fucked me with your tongue and your fingers, so it's a win-win situation."

Adam presses another two kisses to your forehead before he rolls over in the bed to grab a condom. He takes off his boxers as you tear the condom open, rolling it onto his length and relishing in the way that he moans at the contact of your hand with his cock.

"Fuck, Y/N," he moans quietly.

You let him position himself at your entrance, moan at every inch he pushes into you because of how good it feels. Adams cock is long and thick and nothing you'll ever get tired of.

Once his full length is inside you, he moans, pressing his forehead into the pillow to the right of your head as one of your hands finds his hair and the other rests on his neck. Your thighs move to wrap around his waist, and he kisses the side of your jawline as he waits for you to adjust.

459, 458, 457

When you give Adam the okay to start moving, he does so, his lips pressing kisses just about wherever they can reach.

It doesn't take Adam very long to make you see stars, the kisses that he delivers adding to the mindlessness of the way you feel. Every single minute that passes and you get closer and closer to forgetting what your own name is, Adams name the only clear thought that runs through your mind, repeating itself over and over like a mantra that only barely manages to keep you from floating away.

456, 455, 454, 453, 452, 451, 450, 449, 448, 447, 446, 445, 444, 443, 442, 441, 440, 439, 438, 437, 436, 435, 434, 432, 431, 430, 429, 428, 427, 426, 425, 424, 423, 421, 420, 419, 418, 417, 416, 415, 414, 413, 412, 411, 410, 409, 408, 407, 406, 405, 404, 403, 402, 401, 400

Adam keeps going after you've released and you're happy to let him, the feeling of him inside you too good to do anything but relish in. He moans your name in between his kisses, chasing the high of his own orgasm while also wanting to bring you to the edge of a fourth.

"Fuck," he moans. You're practically brainless beneath him, a cock-drunk mess of moans as your nails dig into his back and the hand that's kept a hold on his hair holding it so that it doesn't fall to the side because you'd taken the elastic out of it without thinking.

"Adam," you moan, his name the only coherent thought you have.

"You feel amazing," he responds, kissing your forehead. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me, mm?"

You moan in response and his kisses return to your neck, kissing along the underside of it and up to the underside of your jaw before his lips move back to your shoulders again.

399, 398, 397, 396, 395, 394, 393,392, 391, 390, 389, 388, 387, 386, 385, 384, 383, 382, 381, 380, 379, 378, 377, 376, 375, 374, 373, 372, 321, 370, 369, 368, 367, 366, 365, 364, 363, 362, 361, 360, 359, 358, 357, 356, 355, 354, 353, 352, 351, 350

He's apologizing lightly for a hickey that forms on your neck as he continues thrusting, and you're so blissed out from being fucked into the mattress that you tell yourself you'll give him a response later.

He slows the pace of his thrusts enough to drive you up the wall just a little, keeps that pace while he kisses you senseless for a long fifteen minutes before he kicks the pace back up again, dialing it from a six to an eleven within seconds.

349, 348, 347, 346, 345, 344, 342, 341, 340, 339, 338, 337, 336, 335, 334, 333, 332, 331, 330, 329, 328, 37, 326, 325, 324, 323, 322, 321, 320, 319, 318, 317, 316, 315, 314, 313, 312, 311, 310, 309, 308, 307, 306, 305, 304, 303, 302, 301, 300

Adams pace is quick, evenly timed, and perfect. You can hardly control how loud your moans start getting and Adam loves it, laughs when you press your forehead into the side of his neck in a break where he'd stopped kissing you because of your embarrassment.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed, puppy," he whispers, kissing your forehead. You hum your disagreement and he kisses you as deeply as either of you can manage, hand cradling your neck to allow the kiss to be so deep.

He pulls away and presses his lips across your chest again, keeping count where you've lost the ability to because of how fucked out you're starting to feel.

One hundred more kisses pass you by, and by that point Adams kicked the pace up just enough.

You come with a whisper of his name, saying it like it's the most meaningful word you'll ever speak. Adams teeth bite gently against your neck and he moans your name as your fourth release triggers his first, and he releases into the condom.

After thrusting into you through the post-orgasm aftershocks, Adam pulls out. He disposes of the condom while you go pee to avoid a UTI, and when you're back in bed, Adams lips are kissing you again and you're so blissed out that all you can do is stare at him lovingly.

The last two hundred kisses go by within fifteen minutes, Adams lips soft against your skin as he delivers whispered praise and sweet nothings in between each of the kisses he drops over your face, your arms, your hips, stomach, and thighs.

When he leaves, you're smiling like a buffoon and so happy your heart could melt with the joy you feel. He gets a bath going and then helps you to the bathroom, helps you into the bathtub while he reaffirms that he's proud of you for all the work you'd done with your thesis and acknowledges how hard it's been for you.

You let Adam wash your hair, exhausted and still not very coherent as he does so. It's very easy to melt into him and the way that his hands feel, and you let yourself do so without a second thought.

You agree to order pizza as a late-night dinner--it's nearly ten o'clock by the time you're both discussing it--and Adam helps you out of the bathtub, gets you to sit on the toilet while he blowdries your hair and leads you back to the bedroom.

He laughs when you point out the drawer of clothes you have that belong to him, kissing your forehead and making a remark about a pair of sweatpants he's not seen in close to two years. He gets dressed in the clothes from that drawer, helps you do the same because every single one of your limbs feels like Jell-o--completely and utterly unstable.

He grabs your phone from where you keep it, on the television stand in your living room, orders your birthday pizza while the two of you lay in your bed.

"Happy birthday," he says after the phone call is done and the pizza order is placed.

"Thank you," you hum, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He grins a little, runs a hand through your hair and hums contentedly.

"I love you," he whispers after silence has settled.

"I love you more," you respond, half-asleep but so content your chest aches with it.

Adam presses a kiss to your forehead, holds you close and for a minute, feels as though letting you go is an impossible feat, hopes that nothing ever comes around to separate the two of you from one another.

His gaze shifts from you to the window, hand running through your hair as he watches the sky and listens to the sounds of the outdoors at two hours before midnight.

He's so content it makes him ache, and he knows you feel the same.

All in all, you have to think, as you drift off, that it's your best birthday yet.

[povofjustme]

Fake Lovers

Your are the singer of a band and a ‘rival’ of Tokio Hotel. The fans loved when you guy interact with each other. So the company make you fake date someone! 

Part one 

Georg listing x Black reader

Have fun love<3 - bc its not pr. I wrote in at 3 am. Didn't have time(:

I am a part of a girl band from the US.  I have been singing since I was a little kid. At a church and  school, I would be in a choir. I met my best friends in high school. Nia the drummer, Jade the basses and Alex played the guitar. We all had a love for music and from then, it was history. 

Alex wanted to post a song that we had been working on for the longest. The next day the girls all woke me up, telling me that the song bowled up on YouTube. I never thought it would happen but now look at us. We made something of ourselves. Going on interviews and meeting up with big names. 

We had a tour in Europe, surprisingly we had a big fan base over there. Nia, Jade, and I we’re in our practice room, thinking of more outfits for the upcoming show in a few days. “Hey, guys!”  Alex came into the room with our drink she went out to get. “Hey babe,” I said with a smile. “So I was thinking, we can do a song for the stage broke.”  are heads all turned to the left.

“Okay listen, there's a band here called... Tokio Hotel” “Oh yeah, I heard of them,” Nia said. She has always been the quiet type. The things that came out of her mouth surprised us at times but she kept us on task. “They are a really big group here. Girls are in love with them” Nia added. “They are not bad looking” We looked to see Jade on her phone looking them up.

“Well, I was thinking we can do one of their songs when we hit Germany” “That sounds good but girl... I will have to learn it in like 2 weeks. I know German but it's Arsch”.  It was a really good idea, but I didn't want to fuck up anything. “I can help you G, you forget am half germen. I speak it at home,” Nia said. “I know, but people already hate me because am black. I don't want to give them another reason.” 

“G, we will all help you, we have 2 weeks. You got this, We got this” Alex told me, All I did was shake my head. For the days leading up to the preforms, we would do a concert and after I would spend m. In my time with Nia, I learned the lyrics to the song Durch Den Monsun.

Now the two weeks are up and it was time to sing. Walking out on stage, we have seen so many people. Signs with our names and faces on them. They were so sweet and amazing. 

 Now is the time “Wie fühlen wir uns heute Abend? Ich weiß, wir sollten Pause machen. Ich wollte euch etwas zeigen. Bereit Mädels?” (How are we feeling tonight? I know we should be on break but I wanted to show you guys something. Ready girls?)

The guys gave me a head nod and we started on the song. It was 3 seconds into the song and the crowd is going wild. I could remember a thing after that. Now am back in the hotel room lying down. “You know you did amazing, you got all the words right” We stayed in two hotel rooms. I got the share with Nia. “Thanks, babe”

“G, wake up. Addy needs to talk to us” Nia told me “Girl what time is it?” “7 a.m., come on and get dressed, I have to go wake the other girls.” “Is everything okay?” “I don’t know. She told us to meet her downstairs in an hour or so. She told us to dress like ourselves. So go in the shower first, it takes you forever to do your hair” I laughed while she was walking to the next door. 

We all met up in Nia and I's room to just do some finishing touches on our look. We all have a different look. Jade, Alex, Nia, and I all wore the same shirt differently but had the same dark blue jeans. I had washed my hair and it ended up in a curled-up afro which I loved. I had made my shirt into a high crop top so you could still see our band name and the dark blue jeans high-waisted.

We got downstairs to see Addy waiting for us. “Good morning my loves. I want to meet you guys to some people!” “Addy I know you are the manager and all but I might have to kill you if you try to wake us up again this early?” Alex said. “I got you guys food” “Okay I love you again” Alex added. “So what's up,” I asked 

“Tokio Hotel saw your guys perform last night and they wanted to meet you, in person,” She said with a smile on her face. “Wait are you for really!” “Yes I am, and we have to meet this in 3 hours. The place is an hour away and I want you all awake so we will drive there. Get more food and meet up with them. Okay” “Yes” we added at the same time

“Let us get this shit on the road. Am want to sleep in the car” Alex had always been the outgoing one. Always speaking her mind and not caring. Jade was that way too but she had a filter. The car ride was okay. We called for a bit until Alex went to sleep. We stopped and ate and 15 minutes later we were at a company building. The man who was driving told us we had to go through the back, due to the fans. 

Even going through the back there was still fans everywhere. All I could think was that this group made it far. Each of us had a security guard by our side until we got into the building and into the room we were supposed to be in. Addy opened the door, she was greeted by a man who I assumed was their manager. They chatted for a few seconds then he looked at us.

“It is so nice to finally meet your girls. My name is Max and am the boy's mangers.” “Hello, Max” “Hi” we each said. “Max can you give the girls a run down for today” “Oh yes, I know it's one of your breaks from your show and I premises you girls can all sleep in Tom-” All I was thinking at this time was just sleep. “You and the boys will have an hour to yourself. No cameras, no pictures, nothing. Just getting to know each other.” He looked down had his right wrist “Then in about, an hour and a half now. We will have you guys take group pictures together. Everyone in Germany loves you guys here and why not have two big groups show some love to the people but give them what they want? Yeah!” 

The girls and I looked at each other “Excuse me, sir, what do you mean?” Nia was saying what we all were thinking. “The people want to see the group interact with one another. Is that fine with you guys?” Just nodding our heads yes. “All right, follow me!” He took us to a room, from the outside we could hear voices. 

He knocked on the door. “Boys there here”  He opened the door. The girls and I looked at each other. “So who’s going in first?” I asked “I say you G, You are a singer” “Yeah, G” “ What the fuck, why.?” You are the face of the group. Now go show your face first” I walked in with a fake smile on my face. The first person I see he a tall, guy with long brown hair. His smile was to die for and I only looked for 3 seconds before taking my eyes off him. 

The rest of the girls followed right next to me in a line. “Now I want you all to mix in with each other. Bill, Tom, Georg, and Gustav. Meet G, Jade, Alex and Nia. We will see you all in an hour” I looked around the room, It was like an office space. A big round table that fit all 8 of us. Everyone got into a spot with a person we didn’t know. The brown-haired boy sat on the right of me.

“Am Bill!” He had the biggest smile on his face and his hair was as big as mine. He sat on my left “I always wanted to meet you all. You guys are amazing!” He finished “So are you! Your voice is beautiful by the way”  I feel like I could talk to him for days without getting bored. “Do you only go by G?” “Yeah it is a stage name. And It is easier to say for people” 

It took a while but everyone started talking to one another. It felt so good being about the talk to people who have the same passion that you do. We related to each other, not even an hour later and it felt like we had been friends for over years. Less than an hour. 

I found out his name, Georg. He was talking to Jade about the animal when she brought up my name. “Oh G loves animals, She has like 5 dogs. Right G?” “Oh what's their name?” Georg had asked me. “Princess, Prince, Zoey and Zion. I only have 4.” I laughed, he was looking at me the whole time I was talking or anytime we talked. He would always be the one asking me questions. I just felt so open with him, I didn't know how to act. He made me feel somewhat. A safe way but I didn’t know if I wanted to get too close, just to keep out of making a fool of myself. 

Right when I finished laughing with Georg the door opened. We didn't stop talking, we were all having a good time. “Okay guys, It's time to go,” Addy told us “It's off the the shot. Now would you all like to take different cars or take the bus?” Max asked. “We will take the same bus, I have so much to ask Alex” Bill and Alex were talking the whole time. They seem like they would become best friends by the end of the day. 

I made sure everyone got a chance to walk out the door before I did. Georg stayed behind me. “You can go first,” I told him “No it's fine, please go first” “I really hope we aren't gonna fight about this” “We are not, because you will be going first” I walked out signing. I walked out to see Max and Addy waiting for us. We walked ahead of them. I looked behind me to see them talking, I tried to listen but I could hear nothing with Alex and Bill talking loudly. 

We went through the first to get to the bus. There were fans everywhere. Since Georg and I stayed behind a little, we ended a stuck. With people trying to get on the bus. “Hold my hand, I will push us through this,” He told me and I told his hand and made it on the bus, safely.

I hoped you like it!

[twocrabcake]

alright here’s the deal

i’m gonna make a percentage of how many trap victims/related persons survive

wish me luck this is gonna be tedious 🫡

it’s been an hour or two since i wrote that lol i got busy

idk i’m starting when its like 12am????

survived: iiiiiiiiii

not: iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

special (survived): iiiiiii

special (not): iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

special is either 1 the game was rigged or 2 they beat the game but died some other related way (ex: adam) 3 or if it was up to somebody else to save you as part of their game (ex: eric matthews, like a lot of them actually)

special good is when it was rigged/something was against them or different but they still beat it. hold on hold up i’m looking for an example rn. ok the secretary lady deborah or something she was in a trap out of her control but she survived.

(timing these for some reason) 1:12 am

dude idk where to put matthews bc his first game was a fluke and he survived but he was also like saved? idk man i’ll think about it (i put him in special died OH GOD NO LOOK AT NOTES)

i can’t put my headcanons/theory’s in here okay cowabummer dude (i have to put adam in dead i’m sorry ok)

1:20 (^im realizing now a shit ton of these fall into the special category whoopsies maybe i got too specific)

1:28 aw dude the fatal 5 are gonna suckkkk bc they’re all working together and linked and connected and shit fhhhghh

1:33 okay dude the steam lady is difficult bc the first half was a special but the last wasn’t. fuck it im just gonna say she could have survived the burns herself

1:40 can’t decide if the first and rebooted games from jigsaw should be put in together or if they should be separate. i just finished i smoked an entire bowl and i am trying my best here ok

1:50 the train guys is rigged they don’t explicitly say it but there’s no way

1:58 alright. fucking finally. that experience was just a downward spiral haha get it bc i hate that movie. also hate jigsaw the movie jigsaw. this was very unpleasant once i’m done with this shit i’m gonna fall asleep to saw 5 or smthn.

2:02 i have to use a counter online bc i’m too tired to count all those little i bitches

2:06 the fruits of my labor. my creation. behold

Pie chart

there we fucking go. a ratio. OH MY GOD THEY FUCKING SEPARATED THE 2 DEADS IM GONNA KILL. YOU. YOU WILL BE BOILED.

oh thank god

ok so there it is. the ratio of victims that survived and victims who’ve perished in jigsaws traps. you don’t know how much footage i’ve skimmed through. 1 like=1 ass kicking for to me because what was i thinking

me laying down in bed after this ↓

WAIT NO I FORGOT TO INCLUDE FUCKING ERIC MATTHEWS. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN.

2:18 ok here it is. the real true official one.

sorry for all that. thank you for accompanying me on this task. i did not have fun. except when i was watching 1-3d but then after that it sucked. 1-3d even took up almost all of the view time but the last bits were so unpleasant it threw that all out the window. gonna go watch one of the original saw movies. you can tell saw x will be good bc it has saw in the name. the title. oh my god oh god i’m realizing i forgot people. i think i forgot bobby. what the hell man screw this i’m going to sleep. i’ll deal with it when i wake up and wonder what the fuck i was on last night. thank you for joining me on this journey of a mental breakdown everybody. a mental spiral, even, if you will. i’m imagining cheesy ending scene music like the character/actor is thanking the audience. signing, logging off at 2:34 am. goodnight everyone.

[ctommyisnt]

Tommyinnit is a hair stylist au that I have so many ideas and outlines for but I wrote this last year and nothing else (not my best work bc I wrote this a year ago)(2k words):

With a jingle of the doors welcome bell, Tommy was interrupted from taking a bite of his roast beef sandwich. Something he had been looking forward to all day. But Tommy looked up, and his hope left when he saw that it was not his mother (meaning he would definitely be able to finish his lunch break). It was, in fact, a walk-in.

It was a sunday, at eight in the morning. Nobody came here at this hour and Tommy still fought his mother over her unreasonably early working hours. On a weekend.

(Oh, it’s good practice to get up early. Besides, you only work two days a week, it’s not too much trouble.)

Fuck.

“Hello?” The man said, kinda eyeing Tommy like he was a wild racoon sitting inside a football stadium. Like Tommy was out of place, something to be wary of, and about to steal some food. Idiot. He already had food.

“Yeah?” Tommy replied completely deadpan. Staring at the dangly man as if he could make him disappear. He fucking wished he could. The man looked unkempt yet dapper at the same time. A trendy and fashionable sweater looking like it hasn’t been washed in a week, and a flannel underneath untucked from his jeans. His eyebags nearly covered his entire face and his hands fidgeted at his hem and fingers constantly. The only thing perfect about the man was his hair. It was tidy, well groomed, and perfectly styled. As if this man had gotten out of bed in the same clothes as yesterday, yet still found himself able to apply product that morning.

Though by the looks of the man, morning probably meant an hour ago.

“Um, is anyone working here?” He asked, rubbing his thumb against his fingers nervously.

Tommy stared even harder at him, “I do.”

He paused, “do you do walk-ins?”

Tommy looked down at his sandwich, “if we’re not busy.”

“Oh,” at least he looked guilty, “Uh, I was looking to get a haircut?”

He narrowed his eyes. With only a quick glance, he could tell that the man had recently gotten a haircut. It was cut long, trimmed neatly at the nape of his neck and curls neatly swept across his forehead. It was professional, tidy even with the length, and likely cost a lot of money.

Now. Tommy could tell the man to fuck off so he could eat his sandwich in peace. But knowing his luck, his mom would come back from grabbing a new broom (he broke the last one) from the shops and scold him, and force Tommy to give him a free (free!) haircut.

“Yeah sure. Go sit down. Grab a magazine or something.” Tommy told him, immediately taking a bite of his sandwich.

He would be damned if he didn’t at least finish half his lunch before using scissors.

“So what’s your name?” He asked, settling into routine as he ambled over to the chair. Unprofessional as fuck, but hey, this man didn’t look like he cared in the slightest. Also he didn’t want to give him a panic attack for some reason. He turned the chair away from him so the brunette was facing the mirror.

“Wilbur. Wilbur soot.”

“Pretentious ass name,” Tommy quipped. From the mirror, he could see the man’s small smile. Aha! It was working. “Do you have any ideas what you want?”

Wilbur hesitated a moment before hardening his gaze, “shave it all off.”

Tommy paused. Like, full on double took.

“I’m sorry?”

“Shave it,” He repeated, daring Tommy to argue with him.

Now. He was taught better than this. His mother, the esteemed and astounding Kristin Innit, had told him the golden rule of hairdressing. ‘You can guide, advise, and even offer a nudge in a new direction, but the customer does get to make their own decision. No matter how wrong that decision is.

However, his mom would also be heartbroken if she knew he shaved off beautiful hair. And there was no doubt, however much Tommy did not want to admit it, this nervous wreck of a human being had beautiful hair.

“No.”

Wilbur startled, and spun the chair around, “I’m sorry?”

Tommy crossed his arms, “I said no, can you not understand me?”

“Oh I understand you just fine, I just think it’s completely rude to refuse a service.”

“Oh so your a fucking Karen now?”

Wilbur huffed, “No! I just-”

“Well you're acting like it. I’m trying to fucking help, why the hell would you shave your hair?”

“It’s none of your damn business!”

“You made it my business when you asked me to cut your hair!” He retorted.

God, people were so difficult. One, if you're going to shave your head it's so much cheaper to just buy a razor and do it at home. Two, while yes Tommy has shaved a head of hair off, but that was usually for nice reasons, like comradery for a friend or to donate hair. Or even cooler, some guy just discovering he’s trans or someone deciding to get a new look. Those people were always cool as fuck. This man? he looked like he was going through a midlife crisis at the ripe age of the mid twenties.

“Oh my god, are you going to do my hair or not? I can go somewhere else.”

Tommy sighed, “You absolute motherfucking-” he started, mumbling, “just- let me wash your hair first. Think it over.”

Wilbur rolled his head back, obviously annoyed, “fine. You're not convincing me otherwise, though.”

“Didn’t think so,” Tommy grumbled.

Tommy set him up with the basin and started the routine. This was one of his favorite tasks to do, which seemed weird. Especially since most customers hated it. Hell he used to hate washing other people’s hair for the longest time.

But now? It’s the feeling of caring for someone. Doing something small that they do on their own. Or maybe they don’t. It’s helping a stranger for now reason other than to help.

Or maybe he’s just getting paid to prepare them for a haircut. Who fucking knows.

“So why are you shaving it?” Tommy asked again, hoping the warm water would make this strange and uncomfortably tall man give out his secrets. That was also one of his favorite parts of his job. He got to hear all of the tea, and Tommy loves to gossip.

Wilbur huffed, “I thought I said it was none of your business?” he repeated, crossing his arms to prove a point.

“Need I remind you that hair is literally my business?” He said, scrubbing just a tad bit rougher than he would have. This man’s curly hair was soft to the touch but only because of the product from whatever salon he just came from. Tommy didn’t think he normally took care of it, just some nice but cheap hair products you buy from the department store. A shame, he has like, the best hair.

Other than Tommy’s, of course. Today it was mostly blonde with red highlights, hidden so it wasn’t obvious unless he was in the sun. It was dope as fuck.

“There’s no way you actually have the credentials,” Wilbur argued, “you’re literally what? Fourteen? How legal is this place?”

Tommy knew that it was rude but… he couldn’t help but splash some water on Wilbur’s face.

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all I am almost eighteen and I have my certifications they are on my fucking desk, I thought you got those ugly ass glasses so you could see. Also this is my mother’s place.” He ranted. Then he winced, his mom would have branded him with a curling iron if she heard him insult a customer, several times, without censorship, to their face. Honestly, Tommy thought he went too far at that point, but Wilbur called him fourteen and insulted his mom’s business.

But luckily for him, Wilbur snorted, “ahh, so it’s nepotism.”

“Kill yourself.”

“Duly noted.” He replied. Tommy washed the last of the soap out and started to drain the water out, grabbing one of the fluffy beige towels to pat most of the water off and moving him back to the mirror.

“So why did you come here?” Tommy asked, “you want to shave your head, you could’ve done it at home. Probably it would cost less too if you get a cheap enough razor.”

Wilbur rolled his neck, ouch, and stared at himself in the mirror, as if trying to interrogate it out of himself, “probably because I’d be too much of a pussy to actually go ahead with it. At least now I have someone else who wouldn’t hesitate,” Wilbur ran a hand through his still-damp hair,

“Or at least I thought I would.”

Tommy tilted his head, “do you not like the haircut? It’s not bad, looks expensive, but it may not be your style, hmm?” He fluffed the hair a bit, moving it this way and that. Mostly to piss off Wilbur.

“No- it’s,” he struggled under Tommy’s movements, “I’ve had the same haircut for two years and I just- my fucking hairstylist is so… pissy.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes, “elaborate.”

“Well- I got him when I first started my last job- an analyst for a big label company- and needed to look more professional, but I think I want to quit and I asked my stylist for a change and he said no.”

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked, spinning the chair so Wilbur was face to face with him instead of talking through the mirror, “he said no?”

“You said no! It seems to be very fucking common!” Wilbur exclaimed, hands shooting up, “I want to get rid of this fucking hair and quit my fucking job and fly to California or god knows where and completely start over but nobody is letting me!”

He groaned and put his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the hair in front of his face so it hung lower.

Tommy pursed his lips, so he was going through a midlife crisis.

“How old are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you thirty?”

“Excuse me?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “look, here’s what I think. One, your last stylist was an absolute dick who thinks he’s smart but is probably just a pretentious bitch. Two, just talking to I think you're definitely unsatisfied. Probably understimulated and overthinking too.”

Wilbur opened his mouth but Tommy put a finger in his face, “Three, I don’t think you actually want to shave your hair. That would just make you more depressed and self-loathingessed. But I have some ideas.”

Wilbur stared at him, “I thought you were a hair stylist not a therapist.”

“I can do both,” he joked.

Wilbur bit his lip and turned the chair back around so he was looking at himself again, rubbing his jaw and thinking. This time, Tommy let him think.

“I just- I don’t want to hate my hair even if I change it. How do I know I’ll still like it?” He asked.

Tommy pat his hands against him as he thought, “Tough one, you never truly know, but I can tell you that I am a five star stylist and can make anything look good.” He bragged to WIlbur, “why don’t we look at a few things and go from there, hmm?” Tommy asked.

And this time, Wilbur nodded.

They spent about twenty minutes looking through a few magazines or pictures Tommy had on his several pinterest boards. Eventually, through much debate, they decided on something a bit more simple.

Tommy snipped his hair on the sides, getting rid of the mini sideburns to give him more of a boyish look, expertly teasing the sides to bring more focus on the front and top of his hair, where most of the fluff was.

And for the fun part? Tommy had mentioned darker highlights and Wilbur had jumped at the chance. Nothing drastic, Wilbur didn’t want to get fired or to look like a fool, but he wanted something different. So Tommy delivered.

His mom walked in at some point, Tommy and Wilbur bantering drastically as the dye set, and offering a wave and a snort before she disappeared into the office. They got along like a house on fire, plus they both played minecraft.

“We will absolutely have to create a minecraft world together, I’m going to kick your ass at pvp.”

“Hard pass, I refuse to fight a child.”

“That’s because your a little bitch.”

“Okay but what about frosted tips?”

“Absolutely not.”

It wasn’t Tommy’s best work, and he definitely didn’t think Wilbur would stick with it, but the bemusement and relief that were in his client's eyes as he admired his hair in the mirror? It was one of his favorite feelings.

And sure, they hadn’t made that minecraft world, but Tommy had a feeling they would be meeting up again real soon.

—

[morphogenetic]

Mediaposting 2023, #39 and #40: The Bear (seasons 1 and 2)

1: it is so good that most of the episodes of the show are only 30-ish minutes long because i think i would go insane if they are longer

2: season 1 is incredibly stressful the entire time and then season 2 is a weird mix where it is more long-term stressful (AND THE CHRISTMAS EPISODE IS. AAAAAAAARGH) while also having the fucking best single-episode character-focused slow burns

3: please for the love of god watch this show it does character arcs so well

4: i don't actually dislike [romantic interest in season 2] as much as a lot of other people seem to but i also dont really care about them. like they could have been turned into literally any other kind of distraction including an inanimate one and it still would have worked ok. idk they're just not that interesting lol

5: the cinematography of the final ep of season 2 is so good. the fucking freezer ying/yang scene w carm and richie. chefs kiss

6: i think the christmas episode is one of the best television episodes ever made

7: I LOVE YOU DUDE (starts sobbing)!!!!!!!

8: the fact that theres a 7-minute monologue in the same episode as a one-take 17 minute thing is so. god

9: i feel like i need to rewatch stuff bc they plant little clues everywhere and dont just Tell you things a lot but its all there if you're looking for it. its so nice to find another show like this where theres so much showing rather than telling. man

anyway yeah. watch this show. it has a lot of moments where things are visual metaphors but so many people keep misreading them on [insert social media platform here] and it drives me insane bc theyre obviously not literal. also some moments are wild and are obviously only there to push the story forward but thats okay i can accept it in this show.

carmen..............my guy of all time

also i REALLY appreciate that most of the cast outside of carmen/his relatives is not white and everyone is still written well. like sydney and tina being two of the most important characters in the show while also being incredibly well written (syd especially since she's one of the two main leads) makes me so happy. the rest of the supporting cast is absolutely fantastic too (MARCUS AND RICHIEEEE). the only thing i feel like im missing at this point is an ebra-focused ep bc he so badly needs one

GOOD SHOW. CAN YOU TELL FROM HOW MUCH I WROTE ABOUT IT. WATCH IT MOST OF THE EPS ARE HALF AN HOUR LONG AAAAAAAAAAH