#I’ll try not to make them my whole brand AGAIN

[dreeeve]

another character has hit my kin list

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

______________________________________________________________

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[redstarwriting]

the clash | x. brand new

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings:  language, insults, mentions of everything that happened in the story, almost fainting, soft hobie, big fluff energy, essentially just a fun lil chapter above everything else to wash away the angst

a/n: AND IT'S OVER!! i'm actually crying a bit this was so fun to write. it will not be the end! you can all bet your asses i'll be working on a sequel for this duo. thank you to everyone who supported the story and my writing. you made the return back to this blog unforgettable and i am so grateful for all of you 🖤 please enjoy the last chapter of 'the clash'

previous chapter: ix. last caress

now reading: x. brand new

end.

───────────────────────────────────

After about 3 more days, you were feeling much better. Hobie was too, as he didn’t need to keep giving blood. In fact, the two of you were basically back to your normal selves. And much to Hobie’s relief, changing your molecular biology did not take away your spider powers. So now he had a partner in crime. Or partner in crime fighting?

Nah, partner in crime sounds better.

“Ready to go, love?” Hobie asks, pouring some food into Shadow’s bowl before closing the bag and webbing it to the ceiling. Shadow runs and starts chomping and Hobie grins, giving him a few pets. “Ready, babe,” you say, coming into to the room. Hobie stands and looks at you, letting out a long whistle. “You look stunnin’,” he says, looking you up and down. You twirl around, showing off how your spider suit looks in the style of his world. Your mask wask lost, so you had to make a new one, but that was no problem. You and Hobie fixed it up, and you gave in to Hobie’s pleas to make it resemble his a bit. Only a bit. You’re still Spider-Goth after all.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. “The spiked choker is a nice touch, who convinced you to put that on? And the studs on your mask? Whoever helped you add them seems like a smart bloke,” he smirks. “You know he’s more of a smartass, but I guess I don’t hate it. The spider charm on the choker is a nice touch,” you say, taking the mask off and winking at him. “You not hatin’ somethin’? Now that is bloody mental.”

“Look who’s talking,” you say and he grins, giving your lips a quick peck before pulling away from you. “Haven’t the foggiest what you’re talkin’ bout, love.” He types on his watch and pulls up Earth-2099, the portal appearing in front of the two of you.

“I’m still so surprised Gwen, Miles, and Pav didn’t try to come to see us this whole time,” you say, and Hobie shrugs. “So am I, but I reckon they understood you were close to dyin’. And I may have threatened them that I’d kill ‘em if they came and woke you up at any point. Guess they took me seriously,” he says, and you playfully smack his arm. “Of course they took you seriously! You literally killed yourself for me, and that was before we even–”

“Fancied each other yeah, yeah, I know,” he cuts you off, grinning at you. “Ready?” he asks again, making sure you’re up to seeing everyone. You nod, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Off we go, then,” he says as the two of you walk through the portal, ending up in Miguel’s hub. “Lemme know if you feel sick or anythin’, yeah? We’ll go right back home,” he says, and you nod. “Thanks, babe,” you say, and he places a quick peck on the top of your head. The two of you walk out and multiple spider-people greet you and welcome you back. “I feel offended none of them have complimented you on your new look,” he says, and you laugh. “Relax, Hobie, I’m sure Miles will be so jealous.”

“And that’s all that matters,” he says, and you shake your head. “You know it would be so faster if we webbed to the common room,” you suggest, and he shakes his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not. Have you lost the plot? You’re doin’ better, yeah, but you ain’t close to healed. We’re takin’ things nice and slow,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Getting used to the way you talk is gonna take a minute,” you say, shaking your head and he rolls his eyes. “I called you mental just now. Crazy, insane, unhinged–”

“Got it, you fuckin’ tosser,” you imitate his accent, and he removes his arm from your shoulder, giving you an offended look. “Do you know what to just said to me?”

“Nope, but the plan worked, bye!” you say, waving and webbing away. “HEY! BLOODY HELL!” you hear him scream, webbing after you. Even though you haven’t been in action for about a week, you’re still way faster than him. You laugh as he tries to catch up, but you slip out of his grasp every time. A lot of spiders see this happening and are relieved and happy to see the two of you back and wreaking havoc amongst each other. You beat him to the common room, landing and waiting for him. He lands right next to you a few second after you. “Are you bloody mad?!” he says, clearly exasperated, “I told you not to do that yet! What if you sparked out?!”

“Well, whatever that means, I didn’t.”

“Bloody fainted! What if you did?!”

“Relax, I’m not going to– oh, shit,” you suddenly feel very dizzy, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you from falling. “See. This is the shit I was tryin’ to avoid, but no. You had to go and be a bloody daftie,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Your reaction was worth it.”

“Oh, I bet it was, ya fuckin’ muppet,” he rolls his eyes, and you grin at him. “Do you feel well enough to stand?”

“Probably but I like it better when you’re like this,” you say, and he gives you an unamused look. “Right, then,” he says, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder. You loudly protest. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that now, love,” he turns his attention towards the room, and to his chagrin sees Pavitr recording it on his phone. He rolls his eyes and plops you down on the couch. “Don’t move.”

“I do what I want.”

“Not today, you don’t.”

“Glad to see the two of you haven’t changed at all. Nice new suit, by the way, (Y/n),” Miles says, and Hobie sits next to you, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you as you chirp out a thank you to Miles. “Why would we?” Hobie says, and Miles stares at him, dumbfounded. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you went feral just to protect their ass and they nearly died because of it and then you nearly died trying to save them after they nearly died and then we nearly died trying to help you so that they didn’t nearly die,” Miles says, and Gwen looks at him, nodding. “Nice description.”

“Thanks,” Miles says, smiling at her. Hobie shrugs, looking at you. “All in a day’s work of bein’ Spider-Man,” he says, and you snort. “You’re impossible, Hobie,” you say, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slides from the couch to having it lazily rest around your shoulders. “Good,” he says with a small smile. “Pav, stop taking pictures,” Gwen says, and he shakes his head. “How can I not?! I have been calling this since the first minute they interacted, you all called me crazy, I’m not crazy! I knew it!”

“Congrats, you want a prize?” Hobie says, and Pav smiles. “Yes, actually, I do. I’m aware you’re probably being sarcastic, but I believe I deserve some sort of recognition for recognizing what you two really were,” he says, and you laugh. “You’re the most emotionally intelligent of us all, Pav,” you say, and he nods. “You’re right. I so am,” he says, and Gwen smiles at the two of you. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” you say, and Hobie softly grins at you. “Woah! Look who’s back!” Peter B. Parker’s voice rings out as he lands next to you all. Mayday reaches you for you, and Peter hands her over. She gives you a little hug, and you smile. “And Hobie with his arm around you, nice. Nice. Nothing brings you and your partner together like a near-death experience. Trust me, I would know,” he says, and Hobie raises an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t that almost ruin your–”

“Welp, this was a nice talk,” he says, webbing Mayday back to him, and putting her in her carrier. “Catch you later, kids,” he says, webbing away with a short squeal from Mayday. “He is so fuckin’ odd,” Hobie mumbles, and you laugh. “It’s cute how much he loves MJ, though. The definition of til death do us part,” you say, and Hobie glances at you. “Yeah… but not as cute as us,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to look at him with a smile. “Nah, what did you just say to them?” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, and Miles rolls his eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not fair. Share with the class,” Miles says, and Pavitr sighs loudly, shaking his head. “Please Miles. It’s simply the way a boyfriend speaks to his partner.”

“Woah, now, who said I was their boyfriend?” Hobie asks, and they all look at him like he’s just grown a second head. “WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU TWO ARE NOT DATING AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAS JUST HAPPENED?!” Pav shrieks at the same time as Miles yelling, “OH, I DON’T KNOW MAN, MAYBE THE FACT THAT Y’ALL LIVE TOGETHER AND ARE ALL UP ON EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW?”

“Chill,” Hobie says, putting the palm of his hand out and you snort. “We hate labels, guys.”

“It’s more of a ‘they’re mine’ and ‘I’m theirs’ typa thing,” Hobie says. “You can totally call it a relationship, or whatever you want to call it, though. We just aren’t putting a label on it,” you say, and Hobie nods. “You two are so cool,” Gwen says, and Hobie smirks. “We know.”

“So, I can still say you two are partners and that will be okay?” Pav asks, and Hobie shrugs. “Whatever, mate. We know what we are, so have your fun.”

“This isn’t like one of those situationships, right? Because those are totally unhealthy and not cool,” Miles says, not so subtly glancing at Gwen, and Hobie shakes his head. “Nah. Like I said, we know what we are.”

“Yeah, it’s like you said Miles. He wouldn’t just go feral to protect my ass and then when I nearly die because of it he nearly dies trying to save me after I nearly die and then have our friends nearly die trying to help him so that I didn’t die just for a situationship,” you say, putting a heavy layer of disgust on the term. Miles looks around at everyone before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Hobie, (Y/n), can I see you two for a minute?” Miguel appears, pulling the two of you away from your friends. You glance at each other but get off the couch and walk over to him regardless. “How are the both of you feeling?”

“Fine,” Hobie says, and you nod. “Yeah, totally ready to jump back in whenever.”

“Uh, no. No, you’re not able to do that yet,” Hobie says, and you groan. Hobie turns his attention to Miguel. “They’re not ready for that. They almost lost consciousness after webbin’ over here,” Hobie says, and Miguel chuckles slightly. “Well, Dr. Brown, let me know when (Y/n) is ready to get back into the swing of things–”

“Bloody awful pun there, mate. And don’t call me that.”

“–and– hey, that was a great pun, okay?” Miguel diverts his attention, pointing at Hobie with a frown. Hobie just shakes his head, and mouths ‘No, it wasn’t’ at you, causing you to laugh. “Just let me know when they’re better. We’ll continue our training,” Miguel says, and Hobie suddenly gets protective. “What for?”

“Nothing in particular. Mainly to just get their head back into the game. Make it so Spider-Punk and Spider-Goth are unstoppable forces of nature in New London. Happy to see you up and about, (Y/n). And Hobie,” Miguel says, looking at him, “Good job. It’s good to know I can rely on you.” Miguel webs away, and Hobie groans as you laugh. “You just got praise from the boss!”

“Piss off!”

“I got you promoted!”

“Come off it!”

“Never!”

“I hate you,” he says, but the smile on his lips betrays his words. You laugh. “I hate you, more.” He smiles, leaning in and kissing you, not caring who’s watching.

“PAV! STOP TAKING PICTURES!”

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

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[icallhimjoey]

now you’re allowed to write again, this is a formal request for the smut pls 🤝🏼😌

okay so, im bringing back bet!joe for you, because part of your brand is privately requesting specific smut, so our double or nothing boy's back with a new bet! (lil tw: it's.... it's right there, in the request, 18+) Wordcount: 2.4K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“You’re wrong.”

He was wrong.

“Am I?” Joe smirked before he threw his head back to catch a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Izzy, please tell him he’s wrong.”

He was so, so wrong.

The flake of popcorn he then threw over that got stuck in your hair went vocally ignored – you just fished it out and threw it back, watched how Joe was chewing an open mouthful of his own, smugly smiling at your bad aim.

That flake landed on the floor about two feet away from him. Izzy picked it up as she walked past, already annoyed with the two of you before she’d even sat down.

Him visibly enjoying her disdain wasn’t exactly helping his case.

“Don’t get me involved in whatever you two do to get each other off.” Izzy commented as she sat down next to you to which you audibly gasped.

You were pressed into the corner of your sofa with a little bowl of crisps balanced on the side – your own one, because neither Joe or Izzy wanted any crisps. They wanted popcorn, so they got to share the big bowl.

With your flatmate slash best friend next to you, your legs pretty much filled out the entire sofa, leaving Joe sit by himself in the armchair and thus placing Izzy in between the two of you, right in line of your crossfire.

“We don’t–” you started, but the dropped jaw you’d had on show for a second too long had prompted Joe to chuck a whole handful of popcorn at you.

None actually made it into your mouth.

“I genuinely don’t need to hear about what does or doesn’t get you off.” Izzy raised her voice slightly as she looked at Joe, telling him off for throwing food. He immediately stopped his laughter and apologised by handing the bowl over to her before he sat back, giving you the opportunity to pick and drop all thrown flakes back into the bowl.

“Just, just take it from me that he’s– you’re wrong.” you urged, and Joe just laughed.

Izzy shook her head as she took a deep breath in through flared nostrils.

Joe took that to mean more than just sheer annoyance at being dragged into whatever childish fight you had going.

“Izzy knows what’s up,” Joe held up a hand, ready to high five her, absolutely willing her refusal to get into this argument with you as an agreement to him being right.

Which, he very much wasn’t.

Izzy ignored him though, left him hanging like a loser, which made you chuckle.

“Will you just, hear me out? Did you hear what he said just now?” you sat up a little, legs crossing in front of you as you turned to Izzy who was now finding whatever she said she wanted to watch on the TV, remote in hand, eyes trained on the screen.

“She did hear me, which is why she won’t.” Joe simply said, leaning back in his chair all relaxed, hands behind his head, legs crossing at the ankles as he placed them on the coffee table.

“No, but, listen. Joe said–”

“I don’t care what Joe said,” Izzy deadpanned. “These lovers quarrels ain’t it. I know you live here so I can’t just kick you out, but…” Izzy’s eyes flicked to Joe, which made him scoff in mock-shock before he let his face turn kind.

Sarcastically kind.

 “No, she’s right. It’s okay. I’m wrong. I’m wrong. I’m just a man, and what do I really know, right? You know, besides the fact that you have like, a billion more nerve endings than we do, which arguably should mean I’m right, just by the science and biology of everything, but, fine. I’ll be wrong if that makes you feel better. I accept my defeat.”

As Joe finished his small monologue, you were both frowning at him - for different reasons.

You, because he was being a little shit.

Izzy, because she was slowly trying to puzzle together what the fuck he was on about.

She then slowly turned her head towards you, eyes squinted in thought, and you sighed as you looked at her. You pretended Joe wasn’t able to hear you when you said, “Maybe you should kick him out, I’m not–”

“It’s 8000.”  She interrupted you sort of casually.

“What?”

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, it’s 8000 nerve endings for you,” Izzy nodded at you, and then turned to Joe to nod at him, “And 4000 for you.”

Joe raised his eyebrows in slight surprise as he smiled, reaching for another hand of popcorn with one hand whilst pointing the other at you.

“See? Double! That’s double the pleasure!”

“What do you mean, see? Like that proves you’re right?”

“Are you forgetting that we’re talking about something I am witness to? You can���t make such wild claims when I literally know how you–”

“Oh, my God. Stop!”

Izzy rapidly turned her head a few times between the two of you, trying to follow along, before she muted the TV and sat back a little.

“All right, I’m too invested now. What the fuck is the problem…”

“She said women don’t care for orgasms.”

“That’s not what I said, you– No, Izzy,” you had to laugh at the vile facial expression she gave you. “That’s not what I said! I said that for me–”

“No, no no. You said for women.” Joe was quick to correct you, wagging a complacent finger at you.

“Sure, yes. Fine. For women, sex isn’t just about the orgasm at the end. Like, that’s not the most important thing. It’s not all about that.”

Izzy’s face dropped as she blinked slowly, and you saw how Joe was studying her face as he did his very best to keep his own laughter inside of his body.

“Don’t you agree there’s so many other things–”

“Shh shh,” Joe held up a hand, “Let her think.”

You obliged with an eye roll.

Joe was wrong.

“I don’t…” Izzy seemed at a fucking loss. What the fuck was this conversation she’d just accepted herself into? It was bad enough that these were sometimes the type of discussions held within your group of friends, wild accusations thrown over a table that you all got far too passionate about. It was a whole other thing to have two of those said friends now together, as a couple, having the debate in Izzy’s living room where the issue was wholly personal and, worst of all, inescapable.

She sighed as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“Sex isn’t just about the orgasm, right?” you tried, speaking softly, praying she’d at least sort of agree with you. You knew she did, but didn’t know if she’s vocalise it in the moment because you also understood she thought you and Joe were being fucking ridiculous.

She just wanted to watch her favourite show on TV.

Have a quiet night in.

And yet, here you were.

Talking about if orgasms mattered or not.

“Oh, then what is it about?” Joe couldn’t help spatting out as he went for another handful of popcorn from the bowl Izzy had now placed on the table in front of him.

“Um,” you sat up more, now borderline sitting on your knees and nearly knocking off the small bowl of crisps behind you, holding both hands up, ready to count on your fingers.

“Foreplay, intimacy, being close, feeling connected–” you saw Joe slump back into his seat, pushing his chin up as he sarcastically nodded at you with squinted eyes and a deep frown.

It was stupid how that made you laugh whilst you also tried your best at raising your voice to make sure he was hearing what you were saying. To convey you weren’t lying. Which, you truly weren’t!

You continued, “Doing a fun activity together, it’s like quality time, isn’t it?” you tried, nudging Izzy, but not waiting for an answer as you quickly carried on with, “The attention, being appreciated– giving appreciation! Learning about each other! All of these things go both ways, Joe, there’s just… there’s so many things.”

You looked at him a second whilst he seemed to think it over. Just when his facial expression seemed to give way with a raised eyebrow and a small cock to the side of his head, you sternly demanded, “Admit you’re wrong.” which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“I’ll admit those things are nice, sure.”

Joe threw back his handful of popcorn and wiped his hands, giving himself a moment to think of how he was going to phrase what he was about to say.

You and Izzy waited expectantly, both sets of eyes on Joe who seemed far too relaxed for a single guy sat opposite two women, making wild claims that he somehow would know more about sex from a woman’s perspective than they would.

He truly did believe that to be the case, though.

So wrong.

“But, if we’re not crossing the finish line, what’s the point?”

“Did you not listen to the whole list of things I just gave you?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You absolutely are wrong.”

“I’m not only not wrong. I am also, right.”

Izzy, who had been quiet for a bit, stared into the space in front of her as she suddenly loudly scoffed.

“He’s wrong right?” you pushed just slightly, desperately needing your best friend to be on your side for this one.

“Listen,” Izzy started, holding up a hand. “I’ve…” she faltered, and you made eye contact with Joe, a little panicked, a little confused.

What if she was going to tell you that you were wrong?

Oh no.

Best friend betrayal.

If Izzy disagreed with you, she could be an adult about it and pretend, just for the sake of it, that you were right and then tell you about her real feelings later, outside of Joe’s earshot.

Bros before hoes and all that.

“The finish line is important…”

Yes.

You smiled as smugly as you could and saw Joe’s slowly fade.

Izzy was a bro.

Yes.

You could just feel how she was about to side with you on this before she’d even said the words.

“But if it’s between all that she said and just, as you put it, crossing the finish line... she wins. She’s right.”

There.

End of discussion.

You didn’t cheer, or high five your best friend, or point at Joe to shriek at him that he was an idiot. You just accepted Izzy’s answer and gave a small shrug that quietly said, “See?”

Izzy reached for the remote she’d put down, unmuted the TV, and Joe watched as the two of you got comfortable on the sofa together. How you sat back and reached for snacks and laid the throw blankets across your laps just right.

It was a little suspicious how long he stayed quiet, but you knew it would only be a moment for him to try and argue his case once more.

There was no point, you knew, but you also knew Joe had an ego that was fragile, like all men had egos that were fragile.

Male egos couldn’t just take hits like this one, even if he was outnumbered.

You were chewing on a crisp when, from the corner of your eye, you saw Joe’s finger wag from left to right, pointing at the two of you before he spoke.

“You can’t actually be serious…”

“Oh yea.” Izzy didn’t even look at him as she answered, and it was hard to hide your smile. “So serious.”

“So, you’re saying…” Joe sat up, both elbows on his knees, whilst neither of you moved. “You’d rather have sex and not come–”

“Half the time, that’s just life,” Izzy complained, and you both laughed.

Joe didn’t.

Your moment of haha-men-suck that had its feet stuck in truths had you laughing louder when you saw how Joe definitely wasn’t in on the joke.

When Izzy saw, she snapped her head towards you and stage whispered, “Uh oh…” through her giggles.

Joe scooted forward even further and doubled down, “You would rather have sex and not orgasm, than have an orgasm? Is that what you are saying?”

He needed to hear you say it.

“Joe… please accept that you’re wrong and let it rest.” You were very much trying to be the bigger person, which was easy when your friend had just helped you win the argument.

But then Izzy grabbed hold of your arm as she looked at your boyfriend.

“Careful...” she warned alarmingly. “I’ve seen that face before.”

“Tell me you mean that. What I just said. Say that you would rather have sex without an orgasm than one with one...” Joe ignored Izzy, dark eyes locked right onto yours, facial expression made of stone.

“No, that’s not...” you sighed, looked at Izzy, said, “He doesn’t get it.”

“He doesn’t get it.” Izzy echoed.

You were still making fun, unable to stop your giggles.

“Say what you mean, then.” Joe was still leant forward, was still staring you down, all serious and urgent.

“Can we just watch TV now, please?” Izzy interupted, increasing the volume of the TV slightly.

Joe didn’t falter in this weird staring contest he’d started, one you weren’t participating in.

You looked down at your bowl of crisps as you fished out another one.

You bit it in half and saw how Joe grew a little impatient as his eyes followed your hand as you fed yourself.

Then, you finally answered, “Sex isn’t about the orgasm.” And Joe immediately clapped his hands together loudly, making both you and Izzy jump slightly. He seemed incredibly pleased as he sat back in the armchair, rubbing his hands together before he pointed a quick finger at you.

“I’m going to prove you wrong.”

A startled laugh escaped you as you and Izzy shared a look.

“All right, good luck mate.”

This time, it was Joe’s turn to scoff, and that smug little smile from before made its return.

“Won’t need it. You just wait.”

You looked at each other for a moment, and you didn’t trust his confident bearing one bit, but were too stubborn to let your own satisfied smile fade.

“Fine.” you said challengingly.

Joe was wrong.

“Fine.” Joe copied.

So wrong.

---

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add yourself

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 186 }

the admirer.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

the moment you entered the classroom and saw sung jinwoo propped on top of your desk, you knew that it was going to be yet another one of those days for you.

the star of the track team was simply laughing with his friends, settling his lithe body across your desk as if he owned the damn thing. he was filled with poise, able to balance the entire weight of his body on such a precarious desk that you had to fight back the urge to shove him off it (just to teach him a lesson or two.)

but you don’t push jinwoo off the desk that he currently used as his pedestal. instead, you let out a sigh, dragging your feet across the linoleum floors while brushing back your hair.

“sung, you’re in my spot again.” you tell him with a weak glare, hearing his friends laughing a bit with their lips pursed in response.

“is that so?” jinwoo’s tone was nonchalant- lazy, even, as he met your gaze with his cool, grey eyes. trying to fight back the pounding ache that was beginning to form against your temple, you sigh and remind him once more. “if you want to trade seats, then just say so and i’ll do it, sung.”

jinwoo lets out an amused chuckle before shoving himself off of your desk right when the bell rings. biting back a groan of annoyance, you take your seat and quickly got out your notebook and pencil, ready to take notes when your teacher walked in.

ever since you began your high school career and shared the same class as sung jinwoo, it seemed like he made it his life’s mission to annoy you.

from mornings like today where he sits on top of your desk to talk to his friends-

to blocking your way each time you were in the hallways-

or keeping his eyes on you each time you had volleyball practice and had to share the field with his track team.

without fail, jinwoo would always manage to get under your skin, and you hated it. along with his simple annoyances, something about him was just… odd in general. there were moments where you would look back at him only to see the shadows seeming to bend with his every movement.

you convinced yourself many times into thinking that it was just the trick of the light, yet the more times you caught sight of such strange wisps, the more you realized there was more to jinwoo than meets the eye-

yet sadly, in your case, he was such a nuisance that you didn’t bother to know much about him and simply ignored all of his oddities.

throughout the day, you swore you felt jinwoo’s gaze lingering on you, yet you ignored the sensation of his burning gaze and kept your focus on taking detailed notes. this went on for the whole day, with you not stopping until it was the end of your school day.

you close your notebook and see jinwoo walking past your desk with his friends, talking and laughing with them. he meets your gaze, and you raise your eyebrow at him with a deadpan expression, as if daring him to make your day by being obnoxious again.

but when he ends up smirking at you before giving you a wink, your eyes end up going wide in response. as if satisfied with your reaction, you hear jinwoo’s rich laughter fill at the air, leaving your face feeling quite heated at the sound.

you hastily pack up your belongings and head to your locker just then, needing to change for practice as you made a mad dash toward the hallways. finding your assigned locker, you open it and place your backpack inside, switching it out with your duffel bag when something on your shelf catches your attention.

it was a completely new and unopened chocolate bar, (one of your favorite brands to be exact), settled in top of your locker with a folded note. your lips were parted as you grabbed the chocolate bar and note, unfolding it as it read:

hey, i saw this last night at the convenience store and thought about you. i know you love this brand, so i hope you enjoy it.

sincerely,

yours

a strange warmth was felt filling at your chest, and you wondered who had given you such a cute and thoughtful gift. unable to hide your smile, you gingerly place the candy and note on top of your duffel bag, unaware of a pair of glowing, purple eyes watching you from your shadow.

{ … }

since that first note with your favorite chocolate appeared, several other notes had come along as well with a variety of treats and trinkets.

from your favorite snacks to cute little charms and keychains, you felt a deep happiness filling you upon receiving such gifts. whoever it was, they seemed to know you fairly well, able to fit your aesthetic as you adored them all.

but there was one tiny problem-

you still hadn’t the slightest clue who was sending you these notes and gifts. the handwriting was unrecognizable, making you unable to match it with any of your classmates and peers-

not only that, but you were still completely clueless as to how your admirer got into your locker to begin with.

as you were left pondering, you look down at your bag to see the various keychains and charms you received decorated against its straps. due to the joy you felt upon receiving these trinkets from your admirer, you didn’t think to thank them or try to write them a note back to see if you could get a clue as to who they were.

“lets change that now.” you muse to yourself, heading straight to your locker first thing in the morning as you opened it, seeing the shelf void of any new notes and gifts as you placed your own note (asking for the identity of your admirer) and tiny gift (a homemade keychain that was a tiny jar filled with colorful, origami stars) on your shelf. satisfied with your work, you let out a huff of satisfaction before heading into class.

bracing yourself for another confrontation with jinwoo, you enter the classroom and nearly let out a relieved sigh. your desk was jinwoo-free- in fact, jinwoo finally took a hint and was settled on his own desk, simply looking out the window while resting his cheek against the palm of his hand.

admittedly, his silence made you feel the tiniest bit worried about him. usually, he would try to annoy you or make a sarcastic remark about how messy your handwriting was-

yet he does none of those things, seeming to be deep in thought as he stares out the window. you shrug off the weird feelings and got ready for the day, deciding to fill your thoughts and daydreams by thinking about your admirer and their gifts for you.

{ … }

excitement was felt coursing through your veins as you tried to keep your focus during volleyball practice.

yet sadly, your heart just wasn’t in it.

after class ended and you grabbed your duffel bag from your locker, you saw that your note and homemade keychain was gone as it was replaced with a cute penguin keychain and a new note that simply read:

secret ;)

sincerely,

yours

your breathing was a little uneven when you placed the cute penguin keychain on the straps of your duffel bag, needing to fight back a victorious grin.

your admirer had actually taken your little return gift as well-

so if they were any normal person, they would place it on their school bag, and their identity will be revealed to you.

it was now just a waiting game, and your heart couldn’t seem to stop racing with anticipation.

currently, you and your teammates were doing a mock practice in preparation for an upcoming competition happening in a few weeks. as you saw the volleyball making its descent over the net, you ran towards it, attempting to make it bounce from the palm of your hands-

only to miscalculate your movements as the tip of your sneakers gets caught on the sand, twisting almost painfully as you cried out in response.

your coach was heard blowing her whistle as you were surrounded by your team.

“oh my god, are you okay? where does it hurt?”

what felt like a hundred voices surrounds you, all of your friends and peers voicing their concern for you as practice was cut short. with a first aid kit in hand, your coach notices how your right ankle was slightly swollen and proceeded to wrap it in bandages. it was sprained, and despite how you had experienced such an injury before, something about this pain felt sharper and more potent than usual.

“you’re going to have to take a break from practice and let that heal.” your coach tells you with a stern expression. “had i known that you would be injured, then i would have saved this mock tournament for another time.”

you apologize to your coach, admitting to her that you were distracted while promising to do better once you healed. her eyebrows were furrowed when she gruffly calls your name before telling you, “while you heal, get your head out of the clouds and focus. we need you to be in top shape, and i expect you to be at 110% once you’re all healed.”

“yes coach.”

you give her a bow, hearing your coach speak with your peers, “okay, who’s able to take her home?”

“i’ll take her home.”

your eyes go wide upon hearing the familiar, deep voice calling out to you as the girls parted ways for jinwoo, allowing him to reach you. giggles were heard echoing throughout the field as you tried to fight back your feelings of utter mortification, seeing jinwoo dressed in his track uniform coming closer to you.

“thats not necessary, sung, i-i can walk back on my own.”

he ends up ignoring your protests with a scoff, taking a hold of your hand as he quite literally forces your weight onto his shoulder. the giggles seemed to intensify, and when you tried to move away from him, jinwoo’s grip on you became even tighter and stronger (far stronger than you expected.)

after a few minutes spent struggling against him, jinwoo’s tranquil voice breaks through to you. “stop it and relax, i’m trying to help you.”

the hard edge heard in his voice was what makes you stop struggling against him, face becoming even more heated as you were given little choice but to lean on him. he keeps walking with you until arriving at a bench that surrounds the courtyard of your campus. he tells you to sit down so he can take a look at your sprained ankle.

with your lips pursed, you give jinwoo a nod, allowing him to take off your sneaker and sock, revealing the bandaged ankle to him.

“she didn’t say it, but coach was upset that i made a careless injury while so close to our first competition.”

jinwoo simply hums before touching at your sprained ankle, applying a light pressure on it as you let out a sharp gasp of pain in response.

“it hurts that bad?”

“y-yeah.” you admit to jinwoo with tears welling in your eyes.

jinwoo lets out a hum before taking a hold of your foot, making the pain intensify as you nearly yelled at him to stop-

yet all words of protest die against your throat when you saw the same, shadowy wisps surrounding your sprained ankle, the pain steadily receding before completely disappearing within mere seconds.

your eyes go wide when jinwoo gently unwraps the bandages from your once injured ankle, looking down at it with glowing, purple eyes as he gently moves your ankle back and forth. “does it still hurt?”

you swallow thickly before shaking your head. “no, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

jinwoo chuckles, standing back to his full height as he walked toward the closest trash bin and tosses your used bandages. while he was away, you move your ankle back and forth with a bewildered expression on your face.

the pain was all gone-

it was as if you had never sprained it to begin with.

“how did you do that?” you whisper to jinwoo, seeing him return to you as he takes a seat next to you on the bench.

“secret.” his casual reply makes your heart jump within the confines of your throat, reminding you of the note you had received earlier-

the same note that left you distracted during practice.

you were ready to say something, but seeing jinwoo suddenly angle his body towards you made you look down at his own duffle bag, finally noticing the jar filled with origami stars fastened over the strap.

“it was you this whole time?”

jinwoo rolls his eyes upon hearing your question, meeting your gaze as he brushed back your hair with his hand. “obviously, i’ve been vying for your attention this whole time- but thanks for finally noticing.”

you playfully glare at him while gently shoving at his shoulder. “is that the same reason why you always seemed to annoy me?”

his rich chuckle ends up making your heart skip a few beats as you relish in the sound as he leans closer to you. taking a hold of your hand, jinwoo presses a kiss against the back of it, “it was the only way i knew to get you to look at me.”

your eyes go wide when jinwoo continues to inch ever so closely to you, “normally, i’m able to take a hint and can mind my own business when it comes to people who don’t notice me… but something about you- it’s just really hard for me to get ignore. for some odd reason, i wanted you to look at me and notice me, that’s why… i guess that’s why i was determined to grab your attention.”

“sorry, for working backwards. i feel as though if i had just sweetened you up first with your favorite snacks and cute little trinkets and keychains, then it would have been so much easier for me to get your heart… but… your scowling and pouting face was so cute that i couldn’t help but annoy you a bit.”

“you’re such a dweeb, jinwoo.” you tell him with an exasperated sigh, all while trying to hide your grin.

he chuckles before inching his face closer to yours, lips hovering over you when you felt him whisper against them, “oh yeah? well why don’t you put this dweeb out of his misery and finally kiss him?”

and when you finally pressed your lips against jinwoo’s was the moment you had completely put him out of his misery ♡

a.n. - another story written due to stress; it’s currently unedited but once it’s posted i’ll make any necessary changes. i don’t want to keep this in my drafts for too long in case tumblr decides to delete it 😭🙏🏻

update 6/18/24 omg thank god i had this story saved because i was unable to post it from my drafts! i don’t know if any other writers / users have this problem, but please keep a backup of your story if you have any saved within your tumblr drafts! ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ i thought i had to rewrite everything ajdhshdhshd

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[isak-dot-gov]

I'm gon' make you feel it

A/n: Uh hey. This is the first time I'm posting on here so I hope you like it. Kinda nervous btw. Also not proofread.

Word count: 2226

Summary: Months after you and Rhea break up, your best friends decide to take you out for a night in the city after not seeing you for a while. while there, you run into Rhea and the rest of the Judgement Day.

Warnings: Suggestive(nothing actually done tho)

My masterlist :)

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

“Y/n, come on. We haven’t gone out in so long,” I heard Jasmine say.

“She’s right, y/n/n, you’ve been MIA for so long now. Please come out with us,” Eve says.

Jasmine and Eve have been my best friends since the three of us were in the first grade. We were placed at the same table in the classroom’s seating chart on the first day and we’ve been friends ever since. They have been with me through all my highs, lows, and everything in between. From celebrating birthdays and acing tests to comforting each other through heartbreaks and family troubles, our bond has only grown stronger. We've shared countless sleepovers, road trips, and late-night talks that have made us inseparable.

Tonight they were trying to get me to join them on one of our ‘late night adventures’. Basically what would happen is that we would get ready to go out and hit the city with zero plans or expectations on what we would be doing or what the outcome of the night would be. Sometimes it would be going from one club to the other and sleeping over at one of our houses. Other times it would end with us getting matching tattoos. The most recent one of these nights was about six months ago, a month after I broke up with Rhea. We got tipsy, went to a trampoline park and I ended up getting a brand new set of nipple piercings. To say these nights were some of the most fun I’ve ever had would definitely be an understatement.

“Girls, I don’t think I’m up to it tonight. I’ve been so busy with work lately,” I said with a tired sigh. Ever since Rhea and I broke up, I’ve thrown myself into my work as a way of avoiding the feelings I not only had for our situation but for her as well. Rhea and I broke up seven months ago after a huge argument. She felt that I shouldn’t be having so many female friends and that I could potentially be cheating on her with one of them, which was completely untrue. The reason I had so many female friends was because I was in an all-girls school for my whole primary and highschool, because of this women have always taken up the majority of my social life. Unfortunately for me, Rhea had always been the jealous type and no amount of reassurance that I gave her ever seemed to calm the green monster that tended to take over whenever I hung out with people she didn’t like. Getting to the point where I was willing to let her go was hard, but I was able to do it after Jasmine and Eve showed me exactly how unhealthy we were together.

I was a wreck for a few weeks after the breakup. Rhea would constantly call, so much so that I had to turn my phone off and only have it on during the hours that she spent working because I knew she tended to stay far away from her phone during those hours. I never wanted to leave the house and I barely got any sleep in. Thankfully, my best friends got sick of it quite quickly and made me start coming out of my shell again.

“Girl, that’s exactly why we should be going out tonight,” Eve says.

“Let loose a little. Give us 30 minutes of your time. We promise if you really feel uncomfortable after that time we’ll go to my place and watch a movie or something,” Jasmine says.

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” my best friends say in unison. 

“Ok ok, I’ll do it,” I say with a smile.

“Yes!”

“Fuck yeah!”

___________________

Two hours later and I’m sitting on a bar stool with my friends on either side of me and my third drink of the night in my hand. We reminisce on our primary and highschool years when four people enter the bar and completely shift the atmosphere in the room. I notice the bartender slightly shift her posture and briefly check herself in the reflective wall that stood behind her, facing those sitting in the bar. After she does so I hear a familiar voice next to me say and my high spirit for the night is immediately crushed.

“Uh can I get two whiskeys on the rocks, a gin and tonic, and a martini?” Damian, Rhea’s friend and fellow Judgement Day member, says next to me. I freeze and shut my eyes tightly, while doing so, I hear Jasmine and Eve fall silent and keep their eyes on me. Once I open my eyes, I notice their eyes on me as they carry sympathy for my current state.

“Oh hey, y/n. I haven’t seen you since…” he trails off and I can hear the cautious tone in his voice as he stops himself from saying anything that would make me uncomfortable. I always preferred Damian over the rest of Rhea’s friends, he always felt the need to make sure I was ok and in moments like these, I really appreciated him for it.

“Hey, Dami. How have you been? What brings you out here?” I saw with a strained smile. I have no idea why I feel this way or why I’m acting this way towards him. He never did anything to me, in fact, all he’s ever done was look out for me.

“I’ve been doing alright. Judgement Day’s going to Wrestlemania, so we decided to go out for drinks as a way of celebrating,” he says with a soft smile. Soon after, the bartender brings the drinks he ordered for him and his friends with a flirty smile and a wink. Uh, ok I guess.

“Anyways, I’ll hopefully see you around. I’ll tell the rest you say hi,” he says.

“Oh you don’t need to…” I start but he walks away before I get to the end of my sentence.

“Well that went better than I thought it would,” Jasmine says obliviously. Eve and I shoot her side-eyes as she gives the two of us a genuine smile, the Essence blush she’s wearing showing on her cheeks a little more due to the lighting in the bar.

“Do you want to leave, y/n. We don’t mind if you do,” Eve says compassionately.

“No no. We were having fun. I don’t want to leave yet,” I say and genuinely mean. I haven’t felt this free in so long and I would be damned if I let Rhea’s presence in this bar ruin that freedom for me.

My friends both give me light nods and we continue with our conversation. As the night continues, one of our favourite songs from our highschool years, ‘No Hands’ by Waka Flocka Flame, starts playing. The three of us immediately get hyped and start making our way to the dance floor to dance. The start of that song marks a streak of throwback songs from the DJ and we continue dancing for a while. As we do so I feel multiple pairs of eyes on me, when I look up I notice Rhea and the rest of her friends watching me. I make eye contact with each of them one by one before my eyes focus on the girl whose whole being makes my heart dizzy. She has an attentive look with a hint of longing in her eyes as she undresses me with them. With the new found confidence in my system brought by the many drinks I've had tonight, I find it in me to wink and decide to give her a show.

‘Feel It’ by Jacquees starts blaring through the speakers and my friends and I huddle up onto each other by our fronts and backs. I’m in front with Jasmine right behind me, her left hand on my left hip and her right hand on Eve’s right hip and Eve’s hands on both of Jasmine’s hips. We start swaying together to the beat of the song and sing along. At the position I’m standing at, I have a clear view of Rhea’s booth on the upper level of the bar. She’s sitting forward with her elbows on her knees and a drink in her hand as she watches me intensely. The chorus of the song starts and I start swaying my hips in circles as Jasmine and Eve take it as a sign to follow my lead. The three of us move in sync as the song continues. I get a little too into the song as a few minutes later I feel Jasmine’s hand remove itself from my hips and two, much larger, hands replace hers on either side of my hands.

“You two wouldn’t mind if I borrowed your friend for the night, would you?” 

My girls take a moment to look at me for reassurance in the response they’re going to give and I nod lightly as a sign of telling them I’ll be ok with her.

“Oh sure, Rhea. Take her home in the morning and don’t do any weird shit,” Jasmine says as she turns her attention to Eve.

“Call us if she starts acting up,” Eve says, sending a glare with her blue eyes to Rhea. I nod and feel Rhea pull me by my waist to the exit of the bar. We walk to her car slowly and in silence as the heels I chose to wear tonight start proving to be harder to walk in. Rhea quickly got impatient with my instability and swiftly lifted me up bridal style before making the rest of the walk to her car. She opens the door to her passenger seat and softly places me in the seat before closing the door and climbing in at the driver’s side.

“You’ve never done that before,” I say as she pulls out of her parking spot and makes her way to her house.

She looks at me briefly with confusion and says, “What do you mean, y/n?”

“You’ve never opened the car door for me. That’s a first.”

“Huh. I guess it is,” she says.

As I look around in her car I notice a bright pink hair tie on her wrist. Without thinking I point at it and say, “Where’d you get that? I like it. Might just get one.”

“Sweetness, this is yours. You left it at mine after you know what happened,” she says.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” a moment of silence passes before she says, “How have you been, sweetness. We haven’t spoken in a while.”

Fuck. There’s that Australian accent that I’ve never had the self-control to resist.

“Uh, um, I’ve been good. I mean, as good as a person can be after a break up. You know, I don’t think you should be calling me that,” I say.

“Calling you what, sweetness?” she asks.

“Sweetness. It does things to me.”

She chuckles lightly before she says, “It does things to you? Whatever could you be talking about, my love?”

I tilt my head back into the headrest of the car as I exhale deeply. “Don’t play dumb with me, Rhea. We both know you’re way smarter than that. Don’t act like you have no idea all the things you do to my body by simply being this close to me. This isn’t a good idea and  we know it isn’t.”

“But I’ve missed you,” was her only response.

“I know, Rhea. And I’ve missed you too. You know that,” I say.

As she parks in her driveway she turns to me and asks, “Then why did you leave me?”

I turn towards her and respond, “We weren’t good for each other. You know that. I know that. We were only pulling each other down by being together.”

She gives me a tight lipped smile before saying, “What do I need to do? I can be better, I promise I can. I know I wasn’t a good girlfriend in the past. I was a dick. We both know that, and even when you tried to make me feel secure in our relationship I still pushed you away and blamed you for all my insecurities. I just need the chance to prove that to you. I don’t think I can hand any more time away from you, baby. Take me back. Please?”

This is a side of Rhea I’ve never seen before, and I chose to proceed cautiously because of that. She has always had the ability to use her words to get what she wants from people. However, something in the way she was looking at me made me feel like she was being sincere and my heart couldn’t help but fall for her all over again.

“Fuck I missed you,” I say as I capture her lips with mine. The kiss started out softly but turned hard and passionate really quickly. Rhea held onto me extremely tightly as if she was afraid I’d vanish at any moment. Her hands travelled to my waist and squeezed tightly, earning a breathy whimper from my lips.

“Rhea,” I said in a moan as her lips found their way on my neck.

“Mhm, baby? Tell me what you need,” she said.

“Please take me your house and fuck me.”

“That I can definitely do for you, sweetness.”

[kinopio-writes]

A/N: Decided to answer these two in one go. Screenshotted, lol. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it like last time. Also, I’m gonna be honest with you, after the last Adam post, I started to find his relationship with Sera and Lute intriguing. They both make an appearance (separately).

I just found out. Apparently, Sera and Emily are sisters (just with huge age gaps)? Well, I never viewed them as actual mother and daughter, but I was leaning more towards motherly-figure Sera. Kept it vague.

Words: 1,404 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Swearing (surprisingly not as vulgar as pt.1)

———

More Adam w/ a Child!Reader

• to solidify my statement that Adam wouldn’t just give the child away to someone else—along with the points I said in the previous Adam post—is because he didn’t want to seem incapable and, God forbid, ask for help?

• uh-uh. No way

• also, I don’t really see their first word being “papa”

• because of Adam, the kid cursing as their first word seems pretty on-brand

• not to mention that I don’t think they were with many people other than Adam, Lute, possibly Sera, and maybe his friends, too

• if he even has any

• and this isn’t even slander (when Charlie said, haven’t you had a night of drinking with friends after a rough night, he neither confirmed nor denied it. Not exactly the most reliable proof, but I take whatever I get)

• so, yeah, they were stuck with Adam’s vocabulary, unfortunately

• but for the sake of it, I’ll do “papa” as their first word (“fafa”, actually. You’ll get it when you read it)

Also, uh, heavily focused on Adam. Again. I mean, you can’t really do much with a child!reader in regards to personality, so.

———

Adam sat comfortably on his chair outside his balcony, his hand carrying Adam Jr. while the other was mindlessly plucking at his wings’ loose feathers. He would let them fall onto the floor after collecting a pile of them on his lap, finding that to be the only source of entertainment he could do without his kid crying.

Before he was going to push his feathers off his lap, a gust of wind blew them off for him and they flew over the edge of his balcony. All of his previous feathers slipped through the railing’s gaps as well.

His hand lingered mid-air as he looked up to see Sera land next to him. “Holy shit.” He instantly became more animated, a grin forming on his face as he stood up. “Y’know, I keep forgetting that anyone can just waltz in here.”

“Good evening to you, too, Adam.”

He bit back from replying rudely, instead choosing to place his hand on his hip while he held Adam Jr. closer to him. “Yeah, whatever.”

Sera then went on to dramatically stare down at the scenery above the city of Heaven, hands folded in front of her as Adam waited for her to say something. He got impatient after a few seconds.

“What’s up your ass?”

She turned her head to face him and furrowed her brows. He only rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching downward into a grimace as he slightly turned his head away from the head seraphim. Her attention was instantly directed to the baby in his arms. “Do you mind if I hold it?”

Adam jerked back at the sudden ask. “Uh, weird request…but you do you.” When he didn’t attempt to move, Sera leaned down and took the sleeping child from his secured arms, standing back to her height as she observed their peaceful slumber.

Quite a surprise, frankly. She didn’t think Adam was capable of handling something so fragile as life for more than a day, let alone a whole year.

The feeling of a baby in her arms made her reminisce about the time when Emily was just as little.

“The concept of birth is astonishing…”

“ʼKay…?”

“Having a child is one of God’s greatest blessings...”

“Uh-huh.”

“You must be very proud…”

“Uh, yeah…sure…”

“It even has your wings.”

“Y’know, this is starting to feel a little one-sided right now.”

“What I’m trying to say is—” Sera seemed to have gotten out of her sentimental trance and narrowed her eyes at the man below her, “—you are fortunate to have this child, Adam.” She slowly returned the child to its father and watched as Adam held them back securely in his arms. “Children grow up faster than you think. Spend your time wisely. It’s not as if you’ll get any older yourself.”

“Mhm, yeah, got it.” The seraphim only hardened her gaze. “Okay! Fatherhood is the best thing ever, time is faster than the speed of light blah blah blah.” He swayed his head from side to side to emphasize each word, shoulders slumped. “Sheesh. Don’t have to be so sensitive over a kid that isn’t yours.”

Sera tightly shut her already parted lips and deeply breathed out through her nose, turning her back on the man and pushing the hair that strayed on her face. She didn’t say anything more and simply stared at the view on his balcony again.

Adam only raised a brow at her unusual behavior.

“So, not that I care or anything, or about your weird touchy-feely icky vibes, but you never told me why you’re here, so, if you could just tell me what I need to know and leave, that’ll be really great—”

“Adam.”

“Okay. Fine.” He held up a hand and lifted his shoulders. “Wallow in your melancholic—whatever this is. It totes ruined my vibes. I’mma dip.” Adam flapped his wings to get himself on the railings as the head seraphim watched him gently fly down with his child.

Sera speculated he would most likely come back after ten minutes. That would hopefully be enough time for her to have a composed mind to have a discussion with the first man.

———

“Say, ‘fuck’.”

He was told that it was smart to teach his kid how to start speaking at this age with pictures and shit. Adam, however, went with his method and sat Adam Jr. and himself on the carpet floor, repeatedly saying what he wanted it to say. He’d been like this for half an hour.

“Fafa!”

He blinked.

“That’s not what I fucking wanted you to say, but, close enough.” He shrugged. “Now say, ‘di—”

•••

It was only after Lute came over that he realized what his kid just said.

“Yeah, so my kid just called me his dad. First words,” Adam spoke with drawled-out speech, inspecting his lack of nails. “Pretty dope,” he accentuated the ‘p’ in ‘dope’

“That’s not what we were talking about, Sir.” Lute had her hands on the edge of the table as they both sat on the carpet floor.

“Uh, does it look like I care?” He had his kid on his lap, playing with it by holding its hands in his and making them punch thin air. “ʼSides, we still have a week to finish this shit.”

Lute only deadpanned at her leader going off-topic to talk about his kid but said nothing more, deciding it was best to let him run out of things to say so they could get some work done without interruption.

———

“Yeah, you little piece of shit, slash ʼem!” Adam’s maniacal and obnoxious laughter bounced around his living room space as Adam Jr. punctured the heads of hand-made figures of sinners with their fake angelic spear (he couldn’t get a real one, unfortunately. They’re only obtainable during the extermination).

Lute happened to walk in on the scene. Adam always left his balcony door open. His neighbors, despite being come-and-goers, continually complained about his loud guitar sequences. He always responded with something about how he was being generous and that they should be happy—heck, blessed that they were getting a free concert without having to pay.

He hasn’t had those arguments lately, though.

She observed him sitting on the cardboard-littered floor with his HolyPhone in hand, assumably recording his child slaughtering the wretched sinners.

He had the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his mask.

“Sir, what are you doing?”

“AH!” he released a guttural yell as he snapped his head over to the source of the voice. “Jeez, Lute—what does it look like I’m doing?”

The lieutenant immediately answered, “Playing with your offspring, Sir.”

“I’m not playing! I had tons of cardboard lying around from my fan mail, and throwing them all away’s a bother.” he defensively retorted. “And, ew, don’t call it offspring. It’s Adam Jr. now. Check it.” Adam clumsily messed with his phone, muttering curses until he found the video he was looking for in his endless album of blurry photos. He showed the screen to Lute, not realizing it wasn’t even playing. “This kid will grow up to be such a badass!”

“But it isn’t meant to be an exterminator, Sir.”

“Uh, so what?” He placed his hands on his hips.

Lute missed a beat when countering, “Sera won’t allow it.”

“Pftt, what? No.” Adam refuted with a wave of his hand. “She so would. I have the proof.” He lifted his phone and shook it for emphasis. “And it’s my extermination, so I do whatever the fuck I want.”

Lute turned her head away momentarily before perking back up. “When it grows up eventually, it’s a possibility.”

“Ah, what? I can’t wait that loooong,” he whined, slumping onto the floor. “Bummer. I mean, imagine a tiny cunt-born exorcist! How cool is that? The first in history!”

She nodded. “With it under your wing, I know that it can learn our ways just as quickly as we slaughter those wretched sinners.”

Adam tapped a finger on his chin, face scrunched in thought before he placed his hands on his hips as he kneeled on the floor. “Hmm, yeah.” He spread out his wings, too lazy to stand up on his own two feet. He then plucked Adam Jr. from the floor by their armpits, deciding to bring them along without much thought. “Let’s go pitch the idea to Sera. And let’s get takeout on the way.”

“Right beside you, Sir.”

[7ndipity]

"I'd make a great boyfriend!"

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: A typically chaotic evening with your best friend leads to a slightly unexpected conversation.

Warnings: swearing, a few suggestive jokes, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I don't quite know where this was going, it kinda feels like the setup for a F2L, but idk, I hope you like it anyway.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Friday nights with Jungkook were one of your favorite things, no more stress about work or school, just you and your best friend trying to beat each other’s high scores at video games or karaoke and marathoning whatever film or shows you were both obsessed with at the moment.

Tonight was no different, you and Jungkook were three rounds into a Smash bros tournament when he slumped back on the sofa next to you after losing to you yet again.

“Agh, screw this, I’m hungry.” Jungkook whined.

“How is that my problem?” You asked.

“You distracted me and I forgot to eat.” He said, pouting at you.

“Your adhd is not my fault.” You replied, getting up anyway with a groan. “What do you want to eat?”

“Hmm,” He thought for a moment before smirking up at you. “You wanna have ramen?”

You shot him an unamused look. “If this is like when you asked me about meeting your cat, I will kick your ass.”

“I’ll just stick with the ramen then.” He replied, also getting to his feet.

Which is how you ended up in your current predicament of cooking ramen at twelve thirty at night, which wouldn’t be that bad if you didn’t have Jungkook who insisted on trying to teach you one of his ‘famous’ ramen recipes.

“This is way too many steps! I thought the whole point of ramen was that it’s easy!” You complained, watching as he chopped veggies for the soup.

“That’s cause you don’t have the creative vision I have.” He insisted, nodding to the pantry. “Can you grab one of the spicy noodle packs for me?”

“Fine.” You responded, familiar enough with his kitchen at this point that you could find them almost without looking.

When you turned back around, he had removed his hoodie, leaving him in a t-shirt that showed off his impressive collection of tattoos.

“Stop staring.” He remarked, catching your eyes on him.

“You should get a tattoo of the Buldak bird.” You suggested, poking his arm as you rejoined him at the stove.

“First of all, his name is Hochi, and secondly, no.” He responded, taking the packet from you.

“Why not? Think of the brand deal, we could get so much free ramen!” You said.

“That’s not how brand deals work. Also who is ‘we’?!” He asked, struggling to open the sauce packet.

“Well, it was my idea, so I should get a percentage of the royalties.” You explained, leaning over to help at the exact moment he finally managed to tear it open with slightly too much force, resulting in a small splatter of the bright red mix to land on your shirt.

“Kook!”

“Shit, I’m sorry!” He apologized, scrambling to clean you up. “Here, if I put it in the wash quickly, it shouldn’t stain, let me get you something else to wear.” He said, grabbing his previously discarded hoodie and offering it to you.

You thanked him and quickly ducked into the bathroom to change, tossing your sweater out the door to him before pulling the dark material of his hoodie over yourself, the fabric absolutely swamping you, the lingering scent of his cologne mildly comforting.

By the time he returned to the kitchen, you were already dividing the food out into bowls.

He paused, studying you for a moment before coming to slump against your back in what almost resembled a hug, looping his arms loosely around your middle.

“What are you doing?” You asked, bumping your elbow back against him.

“Giving you affection?” He replied, propping his chin on your shoulder.

“Eww, why?”

“I dunno, you just look cute in my clothes and I wanted to.” He shrugged.

“I didn’t look cute before?” You questioned, side eyeing him.

He groaned. “Will you let me have my moment, I’m trying to like you.”

“Excuse me?!” You asked incredulously.

“I was just testing it out.” He muttered, following you as you moved about the kitchen, tightening his grip to ensure no separation between the two of you.

“Why though?”

“I wanted to see what it felt like.”

“And?”

“I think you ask too many questions. Ack!” He teased, earning a pinch that made him jump back, releasing his hold on you.

“Just eat your food and leave me out of your weird little fantasies.” You remarked, handing him a bowl before moving to sit at the counter.

“They’re not weird!”

“Sure.” You said sarcastically.

“They’re not! What, you never thought about what it would be like to date me?” He asked.

“Nope.”

“Liar.”

“Why would I lie about that?” You exclaimed.

“Because Jimin told me you used to think I was cute.”

“That motherf-'' You gritted your teeth.

“So?” He tilted his head at you.

“So what? Thinking you’re cute is different than considering dating you.” You pointed out.

“I’d make a great boyfriend though!” He insisted.

“I’m sure you would be, but not for me!” You said sharply.

“Okay, fine!” He said, copying your tone.

For a few minutes, that seemed to be the end of it as you both ate in silence.

“How’re the noodles?” He asked quietly.

“Really good, actually.” You admitted.

“Imagine having a boyfriend who’s a good cook.” He mumbled, making you drop your fork in the dish with a loud clang.

“Would you stop?!” You whined, making him snicker.

“Oh c’mon, that was a little funny.” He said between laughs.

“When are you gonna let this go?”

“Probably never.” He said with a smug grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Then I’ll just have to start using some of the dirt Jimin told me about you.”

His laughter stopped almost instantly, eyes going wide. “Why, what’d he tell you?”

“I think it’s more fun if I keep you in suspense.” You smirked.

“Y/n!”

In truth, you didn’t have anything on him, but he didn’t need to know that.

Not yet anyway.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 4

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

This chapter came together super fast, I'm a little shocked! Next on my to do list is to make a masterlist, so that all parts are easily accessible. If time permits, I really want to make a playlist. I just love making playlists!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k+

Rooster finished his song behind the piano, surrounded by his friends who were all singing along. The whole bar burst into applause and cheers.

You clapped slowly, still staring in disbelief. He looked so great, so healthy, so… handsome.

Carly nudged you, snapping you out of your haze, “If you two don’t stop staring at each other and say ‘hello’, I’ll drag his ass over here!”

You shook your head, “I have a rule about seeing patients in the wild, I don’t acknowledge them unless they acknowledge me first.”

“But this former patient is sooooo hot!” Madi swooned.

Sam scanned the people surrounding Rooster at the piano, “And so are his friends…”

You and Bradley locked eyes again.

Hi. He mouthed to you.

Hey. You mouthed back.

A smile spread across his face and he slowly stood up from the piano bench, breezing past his friends, and swaggered towards you and the girls.

“Oh my god, he’s coming!” Sam squealed under her breath.

Carly shushed her, “Shut up and be cool!”

“What is my favorite nurse doing at my favorite bar?” Bradley posted up in front of you and winked.

You shifted your weight, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, “The youngins on the unit bullied me into coming out.”

He looked over at them, “Oh hey, night nurse.”

Carly laughed, “Oh hey, night patient. Staying out of trouble?”

He shrugged, “I mean, I’d fuck around and get hospitalized if my favorite nurse was there to take care of me.”

“Please don’t do that, Bradshaw.” You rolled your eyes.

“I promise I’ll be good if you let me buy you a drink.” He smirked, glancing towards the bar.

Before you could argue, Carly answered for you, “She would love that! Thank you, Lt. Bradshaw.”

You turned and glared at her.

“Wanna lead the way?” Bradley suggested.

You pursed your lips, he was so cute! “Well alright!”

As you and Bradley walked away from the girls, you could feel them silently celebrating behind you.

“So are you chaperoning a field trip?” Bradley chuckled as the two of you stood outside on the deck that faced the beach. The only thing illuminating the dark sky was the moon and its reflection on the water.

You snorted, “Is it that obvious I’m the old lady?”

“Oh no, it’s obvious that those girls look like they just graduated high school.” He explained and looked over at you, “you look like a grown ass woman.”

“Nice save.” You softly punched his arm playfully, an electrical current ignited all throughout your body as soon as you touched him. Woah.

You wondered if Bradley could tell the feelings that just came over you, he was beaming at you. “It’s clear that they love and respect the shit outta you. Especially Carly, the child.”

You sputtered, “Oh my god, I forgot you called her that!”

He chuckled, “I still can’t believe she’s old enough to a be a nurse.”

“I can tell you this now since you’re no longer under her care,” you prefaced, “But she’s like brand new. She’s only been a nurse for like 3 months, she’s fresh off of her orientation. All those girls are.”

”And you’ve adopted them all?” He asked.

You shrugged, “They adopted me, more so. There’s a big culture of ‘nurses eat their young’. Basically meaning that like older nurses are really shitty to new nurses as a way of breaking them in and toughening them up.”

Bradley nodded, “Sounds familiar.”

“I, however, don’t agree with that.” You explained, “I think it instills insecurity with their skills and clinical judgment. It also makes them less likely to ask for help when they’re in over their heads. So I go out of my way to be a resource for these new nurses. And I’ve grown very fond of them in the process.”

He smiled, “Maybe if I had someone like you in the Navy, I’d be a colonel by now.”

“Maybe you could be that for someone else.” You suggested.

“ROOOOOOOOOSTERRRRRR!” Two tall, buff, tipsy men stood at the window calling for their friend.

He looked at them, then looked at you, “I think those idiots are beyond help.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster and Y/N re-entered the bar to join his friends around the pool table.

“Hey guys, this is Y/N.” Bradley introduced her, “She was my nurse in the ICU.”

Phoenix's eyes widened, “Oh! The hot one?”

Y/N choked on your drink then looked up at Bradley, who was red as a lobster.

“Yes, Phoenix…” he sighed, “The best nurse I’ve ever seen do the damn job.”

Hangman sauntered up and held out his hand, “Name’s Hangman. How about you come take care of me, Honey?”

She couldn’t help but audibly gag, “That is the worst pick up line to ever use on a nurse, dude. Instant ick.”

Rooster smirked. She was smart, pretty, and completely saw through Hangman’s bullshit. What a woman.

“Hey, I’m Bob.” Bob greeted her, “Thanks so much for taking care of Rooster.”

“Of course, he was a wonderful patient.” She then looked up at Bradley again, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

“Cuz he’s got a big—“ Payback started to say but Bradley reached over and covered his mouth to shut him up.

“It’s my callsign, what I go by in the air as a pilot.” He explained, “We all have one. They’re given to us during training, usually it starts out as someone clowning you and it just sticks.”

She nodded, “Interesting… you’re more of a Bradley to me though.”

Eventually Carly, Sam, and Madi made their way over to the group of aviators as well. Hangman looked a little too excited to see three hot young things. He was starting to get real close and touchy with Madi.

“How old is she?” Rooster asked Carly.

“Twenty two.” Carly chirped.

He took his head and walked over to the flirty pair mumbling to himself, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

Y/N kind of loved that he was protective over the girls. “Glad he got in the middle of them before I had to.”

“It’s giving Mom and Dad.” Sam giggled.

She rolled your eyes, “It’s giving… you’re reading way too far into this.”

“Y/N, come get your patient!” Madi pouted walking back to the group with Rooster, “He’s a cock block.”

“They don’t call him Rooster for nothing.” Carly held up her drink, pretending to cheers.

“Ooooh, good one.” Phoenix prompted a high-five and Carly gladly accepted.

Y/N scooted in closer to Bradley when he stood beside her. He so desperately wanted to drape his arm around her shoulder, to make her feel as safe as she made him feel in the hospital. But he was… nervous. He didn’t want to scare away the angelic figure that he had been daydreaming about for the past two weeks. 

Somehow, Bradley ended the night with three drunk 22 year olds in the back of his vintage Bronco and Y/N in the front seat. 

“If one of them throws up in your car, I’ll pay for it to be cleaned.” She whispered to him.

He scoffed, “No, need to worry about it. It wouldn’t be the first time these seats have been christened with vomit.”

She looked back at the girls, still with a concerned look on her face as they giggled and slurred.

He placed his hand over hers and a surge of electricity shot through his entire body.

Y/N then looked over at him and gave him a soft smile, “Thank you for staying sober enough to drive.”

Bradley winked, “I was planning on it, wouldn’t have driven myself to the bar if I was planning on having more than a beer or two.”

“I guess DUIs are probably frowned upon in the Navy.” 

He chuckled, “I mean yes, but many seamen straight outta boot camp still get them… it’s a lot of fucking paperwork.”

“Y/N… he said semen!” Sam leaned forward in her seat and giggled, making all three young girls burst into hysterical laughter.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle too, though she tried to hide it. 

Rooster couldn’t help but smile to himself as he turned into the parking lot of the apartment complex that your phone was navigating him to. 

“This is you girls.” Rooster looked back at the silly trio, “You all roommates?”

Carly shook her head, “Noooo, we’re having a sleepover!”

“Ooh, very nice.” He nodded, trying not to laugh at the girls too much as they stumbled out of the truck.

Sam straightened herself up at waved to Bradley from the curb, “Thanks Dad!”

“Thanks Dad!” The other two echoed, making Bradley laugh. 

Y/N shooed them away, “Go to bed! Maybe give each other IVs in the morning if you feel bad.”

The girls stumbled into the building, “Okay Mom!”

She watched them and made sure they were safely inside before turning back to Bradley, “Sorry about them.”

He waved it off, “They’re a trip, I’m happy to be able to help you get them home safely.”

“May I?” She reached for the AUX cord that was hooked up to the updated radio system. It juxtaposed the vintage feel of the rest of the Bronco, but it was a necessity for Bradley to easily jam out.

“Be my guest.” 

“What do you like to listen to?”

He looked over at her and smirked, “is it too ironic for me to say Dad Rock?”

She burst into laughter. Oh god, how Bradley’s heart soared when he heard that beautiful sound. Once she caught her breath, Y/N plugged in her phone. “Have I got the playlist for you!”

The intro to Up Around the Bend by Creedence Clearwater Revival started to play through his speakers.

“Oh hell yeah!” He bobbed his head to the beat and turned up the volume, “I love CCR!”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley drummed his palms against the steering wheel to the beat of And She Was by Talking Heads as he pulled up in front of your apartment. He idled there for a moment before shifting into park.

You sighed… This is so inappropriate. But you desperately wanted to shoot your shot…

He looked over at her, “I just… I can’t believe I saw you again… It doesn’t feel real.”

“Do you wanna come inside?” You blurted out, possibly a little too loud.

He perked up, completely surprised. “Uh yeah. Yeah! I would love to!” He shifted his car into drive and found a guest parking space for the Bronco.

You started to reach for your door handle but Bradley stopped you, “Don’t you dare touch that door.”

You blushed, remembering how he scolded you earlier in the parking lot of the Hard Deck for the same thing.

He got out of the car, walked around to your door, and opened it for you.

“An officer and a gentleman.” You winked at him as you climbed out.

He offered you a hand for assistance, “Now you’re gettin’ it.”

You accepted, placing your hand in his— again that feeling of electricity jolted through you.

He gestured for you to walk ahead of him, “Lead the way.”

You began to ramble as the two of you walked to your building, “So I’m not much of a beer drinker but I do have seltzers, wine, liquor, and all kinds of mixers. Don’t feel like you have to take anything if you don’t want it though. I can also put a pizza in the oven—“

You were interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder, again with the electric feeling. 

“That all sounds wonderful.” Bradley said sweetly, “Please don’t make a fuss over me.”

You sighed, “Sorry, can’t help it. I get nervous.”

“You don’t need to be nervous with me.” 

“So was I correct in hearing that you told the girls to do IVs on each other in the morning?” Bradley questioned polishing off the last sip of his glass of wine.

You promptly refilled his glass and your own, finishing the bottle you opened together. “You are correct.”

“What the fuck?” He was absolutely tipsy now.

“Obviously we don’t do it often,” you explained, “But after a night out, you feel crappy and dehydrated… give yourself a bag of IV fluid and you’re golden for the day. Nurses have actually made businesses out of going to people’s houses and giving them.”

Rooster was so shook by the information he was receiving, “Where do you get the stuff?!”

“I’ve collected some from hospitals over my time working there. As I said, I don’t do it often but… it’s nice to have on hand.” You shrugged.

He smirked, “What are the odds I can get you to give me an IV sometime?”

You laughed, “Bradshaw, I gave you tons of IV fluids two weeks ago!”

“That’s different, I was a patient!” He sipped his wine, “That’s not as fun as getting drunk and having one the next morning.”

You scanned his arms, “I mean… ya do have some great veins.”

He looked down at his arms, “I have never had anyone tell me that before, especially not so sensually.”

You burst out laughing, “Sorry! Good veins are like Nurse Porn. We love them.”

Bradley shook his head, “The more I learn about this profession, the weirder it gets. First you’re telling me about older nurses eating their young; now you’re telling me you all are into vein porn!”

Your laughing continued until your stomach started to hurt. It has been a really long time since you laughed this hard. You looked over and caught him smiling at you, “What?”

“You have a great laugh,” he explained, “I remember the first time I heard it. You were talking to me while I was intubated and drugged up.”

“You remember that?” You asked in disbelief.

He nodded, “How could I forget the first time I felt human in that place?”

You placed your hand over his, this time instead of electricity, there was a wave of calm with your touch. 

He turned his hand so that his palm was up and holding yours, “You made me feel like I could actually get better.”

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[its-time-to-write]

hi, i love your writing! could i request something where jamie and reader are dating and jamie starts introducing them to the important people in his life, like roy, keeley, the richmond boys, etc. and each time they get introduced to someone new, whenever jamie steps away, they basically get some variation of the 'you better not hurt him' talk, and when jamie finds out he's worried that reader is gunna be offended or upset but they reassure him that it's fine, they think it's cute that everyone's so protective of him and that it's nice to see him have so many people care about him

Sorry this took FOREVER. Here it is!

the way it goes

It has been exactly twenty-one days since Jamie asked you out on a proper date, and you’re of the opinion that life can’t get much better than this. You’ve only met two of his teammates so far, (Isaac because he’s one of Jamie’s good friends and Richard because you ran into him while shopping) and honestly, they aren’t what you expected at all. 

They’re kind and they seem to genuinely like working together.

(It’s a little funny to call football “work.”)

Isaac tells Jamie to bring you next time they all hang out, and reminds him to buy more juice packs than last time so they don’t run out again.

—

Turns out the next “hang out,” is a night at Isaac’s, and the whole team is there with various partners and spouses. There’s a strict sweatpants-only drsesscode, and pretty much everyone is in clearly expensive matching sets. You’re grateful that Jamie shrunk a brand-new deep green set the other week, because you didn’t have time to go out and buy something new/not ratty.

There are tables of board games, a pile of snacks, and even a bar. Jamie drags you over so he can get “proper buzzed,” and requests something incredibly complicated from Beard, who appears to be the only coach present.

“Babe,” Jamie says, “you good here? I’m gonna get some food.”

You nod and watch him weave through groups of people. You lean against the bar and wait for Jamie’s drink.

“So,” says Beard, “you’re Jamie’s girlfriend.

You nod. “Yeah, I am. I’ve known him for ages, though. Since I was in uni. Always thought he was just some prick footballer trying to score, if you know what I mean.”

Beard chuckles. “I get it. He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

You grin. “He’s my asshole.”

Beard slides you Jamie’s drink but before he completely lets it go, he says, “Hey.”

His voice has lost its jocularity, so you look up to meet his (very intense, slightly terrifying) eyes.

“Jamie doesn’t need his heart broken. He may have been a giant prick, but he’s different now. He’s not the kind of guy you can just screw and move on from.”

Your mouth has gone a little dry, so you just nod. Right then. You turn to go find Jamie and hope he won’t mind if you take a sip of his drink. You’re planning on staying sober tonight, so that one sip is going to have to get you through till the end.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told you to be careful with Jamie. The first time was actually Roy’s niece, Phoebe. Jamie was babysitting and he asked you to come along, so while he was paying for ice creams Phoebe tugged your arm so you’d get down to her level and said, “If you make him cry, they’ll never find you again.”

You had looked at her in shock while she matter-of-factly stated, “My Uncle Roy’s been teaching me things.”

She said the word things far too ominously for an eight year old, but then Jamie came back and she was all smiles again. 

You got a similar, equally threatening talk from Phoebe’s mum, and then from Roy, and then Roy’s girlfriend Keeley.

Variations of the “break him and I’ll break you” talk had begun to trickle in whenever you’d pick up Jamie from Nelson Road. The tone ranged from Sam’s vaguely threatening, “We all love Jamie very much. We’re incredibly protective of him,” to Jan Maas’s blunt, “If you break his heart, you will never find another date on this entire continent.

Even Ted had a comment, which was more along the lines of, Jamie’s a big softie, he doesn’t need some to play him right now, he needs a real supporter. Each time, you assured them that you weren’t going to hurt him. You didn’t ask why they thought you would be the one doing the hurting when he was the one with the reputation.

Because you are fully aware of his reputation. You hadn’t seen Lust Conquers All, but you’d seen enough clips to piece together exactly how it went. And you’d seen the details of his cheating scandals all over the papers. And dealt with him firsthand while in uni. So yeah, Jamie’s past prick-ish behavior is not a mystery to you.

You find it endearing that so many people love him enough to protect him. It’s a good sign, you think.

You find Jamie carefully stacking various snacks on a tiny, tiny plate. His face lights up when you come into view.

“Oh good,” he says. “Extra hands.” He grabs his drink with one hand and gives you the plate with the other. He starts piling on something flaky and slightly green. 

“Isaac’s girlfriend makes these fucking pistachio things, and they always go way too fast. Gotta eat them while you can,” he says while creating an engineering marvel.

“Glad you like ‘em, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice from behind you. You jump a little, and the plate wobbles. 

You turn to see Isaac with an absolutely gorgeous woman on his arm.

“I’m Stella,” she says. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have to have you two over for a real dinner.”

Jamie and Isaac quickly become engrossed in a serious discussion about football tactics, with Jamie downing his drink and then taking the plate of food from you. He was right, those pistachio things are amazing.

You chat with Stella for a little bit and learn she’s the face of a modeling agency and met Isaac during some football/branding thing.

“He was the only one during the entire shoot who made sure I was drinking enough water,” she laughs. “Who knew the way to my heart was through proper hydration?”

You talk a little longer before Jamie’s arm is snaking around your waist to whisk you off to see Dani. It goes like that for a little while until you finally settle down at one of the game tables. It’s a card game involving a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

The house is noisy and cozy, filled to the brim with people who are just comfortable around each other, and you think you’ve never experienced something like this in your whole life.

Jamie on the other hand, is yawning a little bit. His hand, which had been on your knee tracing squiggly patterns, is starting to slow down so you put yours on top of his and whisper, “You about ready to go?”

Jamie nods and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Got fucking extra training tomorrow,” he quietly laments.

You get up to leave and Jamie follows suit with a very loud pronouncement that he’d rather be somewhere private, much to the amusement of the Greyhounds who begin to hoot and whistle. You roll your eyes and smack his butt on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Isaac’s phone dings with a photo of Jamie in a pink robe and green face mask, hair pulled back in an equally pink and fluffy headband. He’s lying on your bed and he can see the tv screen playing Notting Hill. You’ve typed, Someplace private, my ass, and Isaac just shakes his head and grins. Fucking Jamie. Prick on the outside, softie on the inside.

You better not break his heart, he writes.

HAH comes your reply a moment later. Not a chance.

“Babe, look,” you say handing Jamie your phone. “I’ve collected the whole set.”

Jamie reads your text thread then looks up at you in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac is the only one who hasn’t like, threatened me or something if I hurt you,” you reply.

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red. “What do you mean, the only one?” he asks. “Like, the team?”

You shake your head. “Oh no. I mean, yes, the whole team, but like pretty much everyone who works at Nelson Road.” 

Jamie’s eyes widen as you begin to list people on your fingers. “Alright, so obviously the Greyhounds, plus all the coaches, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, Samantha at the front desk, Gary, Phoebe and her mum, Will-” you pause. “Should I keep going?”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry. They’re all twats, except Phoebe. I swear, they’re not always like that. I’ll talk to them and make ‘em leave you alone.”

“No! You can’t let them know that you know! And…” you hesitate, “I thought it was kind of sweet. Like a green flag, you know? They all like you enough to make sure that you’ll be ok, and they want me to know I have something special. Of course, I already knew that,” you continue, “but it’s nice confirmation.” 

Oh. That’s new.

Jamie’s quiet for way too long so you look over at him. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” he says, choked up. “Face mask got in my fuckin’ eye.”

“It’s dried solid, babe.”

“Fine,” he says, “I might be a little. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Ted, because then he’ll talk to me about feelings and shit, and I’d rather eat ten fucking scones than that.”

You laugh and snuggle into his side. There aren’t going to be any heartbreaks here, not if you can help it. You’re both planning on keeping the other around for the rest of your lives.

[joemama-2]

A Series Of Awkward Events: The Grocery Store Encounter

You can feel it, really feel it. I mean, who wouldn’t feel the lingering gaze of the very attractive, teenaged boy standing right next to you in the, suddenly empty, aisle. You’ve been coming to the grocery store every Saturday at exactly 9:30 in the morning, making it a routine. This was mainly because if you came later, you’d be caught up in the rush of families who also decided now would be a good time to stock up on groceries. You couldn’t come earlier because…well you just couldn’t wake up earlier.

You’ve been seeing him for about three weeks now. Every week, he’s in the same aisle as you, looking at the brands of cereal while your eyes gloss over the brands of oatmeal. You didn’t notice it the first time, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize someone is staring at you. And in all honesty, he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to subtle about it either.

Either way, it’s not like you would go out of your way to spark up a conversation first. You’ve lived a very sheltered life, from being homeschooled til earlier this year to having very strict parents, it’s safe to say your social skills are…not up to par. Finally, you decide you’ve had enough of the glances. Your hand reaches out to hurriedly grab a random oatmeal, one you’ve never had before, just to get out of the aisle. However, just as you’re about to turn and leave, his voice cuts through the air.

“That one’s not good, had it before and wouldn’t recommend.”

You stop and slowly turn around to face the boy. He’s grinning now and is it bad to say he has a pretty smile? You shoot a quick look down at the oatmeal in your hands before back at him. Your lips part but the words don’t come out. Damn it. Just staring awkwardly at him with your mouth opening and closing, you just wish the world would swallow you whole. But then, by the grace of whoever’s watching, something comes out.

“Oh.”

Is that really all you can say? A few seconds of silence pass before the boy lets out a small chuckle and damn, it’s almost prettier than his smile. “It tastes bland, almost like cardboard.”

Still, it’s hard to find the right words. He raises an eyebrow at your lack of responses, only then do you realize that you’ve just been shamelessly staring at him. Your hands grip the oatmeal tighter, either for comfort, or a way to silently curse yourself for acting so stupid in front of a boy. A cute one….a really, really cute one. “Oh, that’s—uh—unfortunate.”

He laughs again and you already grow addicted to it. “Want my suggestion?” You hesitate, before nodding. Taking a small, stiff step closer to the boy, you look back at the variety of oatmeal, watching as he points to a specific one. “This one is my favorite, it’s sweet, but not too sweet. Sweet enough to still qualify as a breakfast. Or a snack.”

You reach forward to grab the said box, examining it. With another nod, you put the old, now dented box of oatmeal you first grabbed back in its original place. “Thank you, I’ll…I’ll be sure to enjoy this.” You say with a nod, eyes not even fully looking at his. How could they when they’re the most beautiful pair of blues you’ve ever seen?

Then, of course, another silence, as if he’s expecting you to say something else. Why would he? Can’t he already tell you’re awkward? Can’t he read the room? Your body language? Apparently not. “Gojo Satoru.” He says. Oh, he’s introducing himself. That means he must want to know your name too, right?

“Y/N.” You say timidly, holding your hand out for a shake. Man, this is way too formal of a greeting for grocery store. That same grin makes its way to his face, soon clasping his hand with yours. God, you really hope he doesn’t feel your hand sweating. Or the slight trembling of it. That would be completely embarr—

“Your hand’s wet.”

You freeze, a big wave of embarrassment and shame flooding you. Just as quickly as he said that, you’re retracting. “Sorry, I just washed them.” A blatant lie, but who cares? You’re honestly just trying to get out of this situation now. Yeah, he’s cute, but you’d much rather save your confidence, at least whatever you have left of it, for something you’re more prepared for.

For the first (?) time, you meet his eyes. With a small gulp, you decide now is the chance to run away. “Um, thank you for the oatmeal. It was nice meeting you. Good day.” You take off like you’re on a mission, not even daring to look back. Your face scrunches up and you cringe hard at what just happened. ‘Good day’? What are you, a fifty-year-old man who just saw his colleague for the first time in five years?

It takes a while for you to finish up shopping, considering you’re checking every aisle before you walk into it to ensure that the boy, Gojo Satoru, isn’t in it. Running into him again seemed inevitable, but you made sure that it was possible. It’s almost like a breath of fresh air when you walk out, bags in hand, making your way down the familiar route to your house. It’s a nice day out, very sunny and clouds just clouding.

But of course, things never seem to go your way, do they? Because with one more step, one more snap of the stupid paper bags you were given, one of the bags in your right hand just completely rips. Fruits go rolling down the pavement, bread falling to the puddle of water below your feet, and your dignity washing away down the sewers. Your eyes widen, freezing in place. Lips part as a small, almost unbelievable breath leaves your mouth. It’s a sad scene, really.

So very slowly, embarrassingly, you kneel down to grab your fallen groceries, to stuff into the other two bags that haven't miraculously ripped. It takes a while for a task so small, considering you're holding back tears. You spot the last apple a few feet away and begrudgingly crawl to get it. But a hand beats you to it.

You look up, confused and slightly shocked, but see the boy you just worked very hard on avoiding. Oh Jesus Christ, just how much worse could this day get? "Missing something?"

The hand that was about to grab your apple freezes in mid-air as you contemplate your next move. You nod curtly and he holds it out to you. Your fingertips brush against each other and you can't help the stupid flutter in your stomach. Swiftly, you put the apple in your pocket, having run out of space in your other bags, and stand up. He watches this whole ordeal, even attempting to offer you help, but you don't take it.

You find yourself in another awkward position, but luckily you find your voice sooner. "Thank you."

He smiles, letting out a huff of a chuckle through his nostrils. "No problem, what kind of guy would I be if I didn't help you?" Is that a rhetorical question? You're not sure. He looks down at the bags. "You gonna be alright with those?"

"I will." You say a little too quickly.

While he nods, you look down at his hands. Only then do you realize he's not even carrying anything. He probably sensed your confusion, so he follows up. "Couldn't find anything."

It's a shitty excuse but do you really care enough to question him. So you nod again, lips forming a small line. "Okay..."

"Okay."

You two stare at each other for another few seconds before you turn to leave again, but he stops you. "Are you new to the area?"

Now you don't know what's worse, your classmates being shocked by your existence even though you have been with them for months now, knowing somebody else's name but then not knowing yours, or being questioned about your residency simply because you rarely go out and oh, you have no friends.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and turn your head over your shoulder. "No."

"Oh, really? I've just never seen you around before." That's another knife to the chest. "I know most of the people in this neighborhood, that's why. Usually, when I see a new face, it means they've just moved here."

"I'm not new." You say, now turning your body fully around to face him. "I just like staying inside."

His eyebrows raise, as if shocked. What's so shocking? Was he so popular that the concept of a homebody was beyond him? Well, not like you were being a homebody by choice, it's just something you've grown accustomed to. Something that's now hard to break out of.

"Well, I like staying inside too," He concedes, "But I also like meeting new people. Especially the cute, quiet ones in grocery stores." You hate how your cheeks instantly heat up, nerves taking over. He notices this, taking just the smallest step forward.

"I...didn't run away." You feel the need to justify yourself. "I just need to go home soon."

"Ah, right. Home." He says with a small laugh. "How far is that from here?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"Just asking."

"We're strangers."

"Well, we could be friends."

Your eyes slightly widen. Friends? Someone actually wanted to be friends with you for once? For a second, you think it's a joke, one that's set up by his friends. You've had way too many experiences like that. Looking around, you conclude that he is in fact all alone. Hesitance settles within you. "Why?"

He huffs. "You're asking why I want to be friends with you?" His question makes you feel dumb.

"Yes, I am." You say, brows furrowing together. "You could be playing a trick on me for all I know."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, but I'm just making sure."

He gauges your reactions to see if you're being serious or not. Once he sees that you are, he sighs. "You seem like a nice person, I like nice people. So, why wouldn't I want to be friends with you?"

You mull over his words for a good minute, having an internal battle with yourself. Is he trustworthy? Does he actually mean what he says? How do you know he won't pretend to now know you next time he sees you? All sorts of questions run rampant in your mind and he can tell, easily. "I'm serious, I wanna friends with you."

You inhale deeply, scrutinizing him before finally saying, "Okay."

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Phew, that was harder than usual. You know, most people agree quite quickly. But you didn't so it makes me even more curious about you."

"Even more?" "Mhm." He steps closer. "I was also curious about your number, but you ran before I could ask."

Damn him, you already said you didn't run away. But at the mention of a number, you can't help but look away. This confuses him. "I....um....I don't have a number." You murmur.

Now his head tilts, convinced you're just making up a lie so you couldn't give him it, which would be understandable. "You don't have one?" You shake your head. "What do you mean you don't have a number?"

Oh god, he's gonna make fun of you, isn't he? "I don't have a phone."

His lips part, letting out a small "oh" and nod in understanding. "So like, you're one of those people who their parents have a tight leash on."

This makes your eyes narrow. Although you want to argue that no, you have a lot of freedom, a part of you agrees. You keep your eyes turned away from him. "Please don't say that."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I'm just honest. I mean, what, you're like a teenager and you don't have a phone? Everyone needs a phone now, everyone has one."

"Well, I don't." You quip back, now glaring at him. "I don't have one, you can stop pestering me about it now.

"I'm not pestering, just shocked." You hold back an eyeroll. "So what do you have then?"

"I have a computer, I use it for school." You let out a slow sigh, biting on your lip. "I could...give you my email."

He stares at you for a moment. "You want me to...email you?" When you don't respond, he barks out a burst of laughter. "Email? Email you? Instead of text? Or even call? Wow, that's--"

"You either take it or you don't." You cut him off, a newfound sense of bravery in you. "I don't need a friend who will make fun of me."

This gets him to stop almost immediately. His head tilts as he stares, a sympathetic expression on his face. "My bad, I wasn't trying to." You say nothing in response, an almost defiant look on his face. One that makes him feel like laughing because you just look so adorable right now. With a deep breath, he smiles that sweet smile again, and with a jut of his chin, he replies. "What's your email?"

----------

bonus:

You check your email that night to one from 'thestrongest69'.

"Same time next week? ^.^"

[artiststarme]

Eddie tried to break up with Steve exactly one time. His music career wasn’t taking off like he hoped it would and Steve was going to school and working two part time jobs. He didn’t want to keep dragging him down and forcing him to provide for the both of them. So, Eddie sat Steve down one day for dinner and tried to let him down gently.

He told him that he would move back in with Wayne and that Steve could have the apartment. He said he was sorry for not helping out more and that Steve deserved more than some deadbeat asshole. He emphasized that he loved him but being with him wasn’t going to get Steve anywhere, he deserved more than a Munson.

Through it all, Steve just stared at him unimpressed. When Eddie had finally said all he’d needed to say, Steve picked up the phone and dialed a number all in silence. It was quiet until Eddie heard, “hey Wayne. Can you talk to your idiot nephew, he’s trying to break up with me on my birthday. Yeah, thanks.”

And shit, Eddie had never been good at remembering dates but hearing that he’d missed Steve’s birthday in all of his catastrophizing made him feel like a whole new brand of asshole.

Steve handed him the phone with a whispered, “you better make this up to me. I like chocolate.”

Eddie couldn’t even defend himself against Wayne’s angered hisses. “What the hell, kid? What were you thinking trying to break things off with that boy? You know he’s a part of this family, you can’t just try to nix the kid willy-nilly. Do I have to drive up there? Jesus fucking Christ, Eds.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll fix it!”

“You fucking better. Jesus, I sent the kid some of those hair products he likes but no birthday present is gonna help if you piss him off like that again. Go grovel and you better call back with an update that you fixed everything. Good lord, I’m too old to be dealing with this shit.”

And Eddie did fix it. He took Steve out to dinner at his favorite restaurant and took him to the sports bar he liked to yell at TVs at. Best of all though, he never questioned their relationship again. It would take a few years and more than a few part-time jobs but his music career would take off, Steve would finish school, and they would live happily ever after.

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

I've been keeping busy making more SnowBaz fan art dolls this week. If tiny boudoir Simon has not crossed your dash yet, please find him here. He is adorable. I make them in matching sets, so below is Baz of Only Creatures fame by the amazing @emeryhall.

Much like writing, doll making comes with its own ups and downs. I always stage the poses 2D before I start sewing and stuffing things to get an idea of how things will turn out. Here was the plan for the next set. Can you guess the fic?

However, sometimes the final product does not play nice. Baz was supposed to be long and lean compared to Simon, but maybe he's too long and lean?? These are the exact same dimensions as Baz's Beard--Character, only this Baz is naked and his feet are pointed. Not sure what went wrong. I might take the legs off and try again.

Simon is also presenting problems, but that is mostly the fabric. To get a good skin tone, I had to buy a different brand that is not as high quality as the Baz felt. *Sigh.*

As for writing, this is likely my last preview/teaser for The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch. There is no good way to preview Chapter 14 or the Epilogue without spoiling my own story. Enjoy a bit of Chapter 13 below the cut.

In August, Simon decides they must go to the beach, even though Baz is incapable of enjoying the sun. He sits under the umbrella the whole time, covered head-to-toe in layer upon layer of sunscreen, and reads a book dejectedly or complains about the existence of sand. Meanwhile, Simon splashes in the ocean with glee, the sun making his golden skin glow.

I’ll be at the beach next week, just like the boys! We’ll see if I remember to post.

Hellos and high-fives: @thewholelemon, @raenestee, @bookish-bogwitch, @cutestkilla, @roomwithanopenfire

@hushed-chorus, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ic3-que3n, @artsyunderstudy, @rimeswithpurple

@larkral, @talentpiper11, @drowninginships, @valeffelees, @skeedelvee

@facewithoutheart, @aristocratic-otter, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @beastmonstertitan, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@youarenevertooold, @blackberrysummerblog, @shrekgogurt, @run-for-chamo-miles, @messofthejess

@theearlgreymage, @arthurkko, @supercutedinosaurs, @rbkzz, @fiend-for-culture

@katatsumuli, @noblecorgi, @comesitintheclover, @stitchyqueer, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

Let me know if you’d rather not be tagged, especially since updates moving forward will likely be for sewing projects and not writing. If you’d like to be added, let me know too!

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 31

⚠️CONTENT WARNING⚠️

The two of us burst through the front door of Haley’s house. We were shivering, but still in a fit of giggles. We kept trying to shush each other since Emily is most likely asleep in the other room, but it just made us chuckle more.

We were still dripping with ocean water, so I volunteered to go grab some towels for us from the bathroom.

“They’re just on the shelf in there. You’ll see them when you walk in. I’ll be in my room when you come back,” Haley explains.

“I know where they are from the last time I was in your bathroom,” I give her a little wink, making her recall what went on the last time I was in her bathroom. I guess it was more about the night before we were in the bathroom, but I could tell she knew what I meant due to her blushing.

“Just hurry. I’m freezing,” she shoos me off and I scurry over to the bathroom. I fumble around for the light switch and finally turn it on. Just as I remember, there is a whole shelf of fluffy towels stacked up. I grab two off the shelf and head to Haley’s room. But when I get there, she isn’t around.

“Haley?” I call out loud enough for her to hear, but not enough to wake up Emily. 

“In here!” I hear her muffled voice through the door at the back of her room. It was the one she told me was a ‘work in progress’. “Just make sure to close the door quickly behind you!” she shouts again.

Cautiously, I turn the doorknob of the door and pull it open slowly. Sure enough, Haley was standing there waiting for me. Doing as directed, I shut the door behind me.

“Ta da!” she opens her arms wide and gestures to the room. I raise my eyebrow as I take in the room dimly lit by a red light. I can barely make out anything at first due to my eyes not being adjusted to the darkness yet. 

“Wow,” I sarcastically say, blinking rapidly a few times to get my eyes to adjust. 

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic,” she chuckles. I know her well enough to know she is rolling her eyes at me.

Finally, I begin to start making out some shapes in the room. I notice a bunch of the same shape hanging from a string across the ceiling. Right in front of me were 3 buckets fitted into the middle of a table. They appear to have water in them, but they are glowing red from the tinted light in the room. 

I finally realize the things hanging from the ceiling are a bunch of printed out pictures. I begin to pace alongside the string holding them up, admiring each picture the best I can in the darkness. 

“Welcome to my brand new dark room!” she exclaimed excitedly. She follows along behind me as I continue to admire the pictures strung up. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, Haley. I’ve never seen a dark room in person before,” I drag my finger along the edge of one of the water buckets. I then put both my hands on the edge of the table around the buckets and lean, holding myself up by my arms.

“You really have a thing for me, huh?” I question her.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Haley stutters.

“I have eyes, you know. I can see what’s in all of your pictures,” I smirk at her, still leaning on the table. 

There were many pictures of our day at Marnie’s farm strung up. There were more candid pictures of me than there were of anything else. Even in the low light, I can tell that the pictures she took of me made me look the best I have ever looked. 

“Well you are just a great model,” she replies as she walks over to one of the pictures and studies it. I stand up from the table and walk over to stand behind her. I noticed the picture she was looking at was one of me looking down at something while rolling up the sleeves of my flannel. Each muscle of my arm was visible even through the sleeve of the flannel. 

“Um…so, anyway… what do you want to do?” she turns to ask me, sounding a bit nervous. I was standing so close behind her, that when she turned around we were face to face. I feel her breath quicken when she surveys how close our faces are.

“Well I could say I could help you decorate in here, add some final touches and more decor…” I breathe out, as I slowly creep my hand up the side of her thigh.

“Or…?” she looks down at my hand tracing along her exposed skin on her thigh. 

“Or I could do this…” I bring my hand up and cup it against her cheek and jaw. I meet her eyes for a quick second to judge how she is feeling. Her eyes stare back at mine in a needy, desire kind of way. I take that as my sign and immediately bring my lips down to hers, not being able to take another minute of this tension.

Without hesitation, she matches the pace of my lips, moving hers effortlessly with mine. I feel her hands float up and wrap around my neck, holding me in place. 

“Oh Danny,” she moans between kisses, “I’ve been waiting so long for you to do this.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” I say breathlessly. Just as I try to go back for more, she pauses.

“One moment…” She steps out of my hold and dances over to the wall. I watch as she flicks a switch on the wall, causing the majority of the red lighting to go out. Only a single, faint, red light in the corner remains.

“Okay. I’m good now,” Haley rushes back into my embrace. This time, she is the one to go in for a kiss. Not missing a beat, I swoop down and meet her lips. I begin to slowly back her up a couple of steps to the table, not breaking away. 

When I feel her waist meet the edge of the table, I wrap one of my arms around her waist and lift her up so she is sitting with me between her legs. It gave us enough time to take a few quick breaths, but we urgently went back in for more. 

I have both hands rubbing along each of her thighs now, nearly pushing the hem of her dress all the way up. She has her fingers hooked into my belt loops, keeping my hips pressed tightly against her.

I feel her let go of my belt loops, and onto the collar of my flannel. She slowly slides down to the first button of my flannel next. There is a bit of tugging and fumbling, but it soon comes loose. She repeats the same motions all the way down my shirt until each button is undone. 

I don’t dare stop her as she tugs my flannel loose from my body and tosses it somewhere in the room. She begins to explore the bare skin of my upper body with her hands, tracing them along every crevice and curve. She soon feels bold enough to bring her hands up to my sports bra strap. As she does, I feel her heart begin to pound in her chest. 

Testing her reaction, I end up bringing my hands all the way up her dress, causing it to lift up to her stomach. I pull back to gauge my limits and see how she is feeling. She gives me a nod and even slides it the rest of the way off and over her head for me, causing her to have to shake her hair back into place. 

I can only stare at how gorgeous she looks, sitting so dainty on the table with me between her legs. My eyes widen as I notice she has matching baby blue, lace panties and bra on. That sly dog. She knew this was going to happen, but that only turns me on more.

She had tossed her dress somewhere in the room along with my flannel, both no longer to be seen for the rest of the night. 

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper into her ear as I lean tight against her body. She lets out a little giggle as I trail kisses down her jawline. The kisses down her jawline quickly turn to kisses down her neck, then to kisses just above her breasts. 

I get tired of bending weirdly, so I spin her around on the table so she is stretched out the long way, and join her on the table. I hover above her as I continue to kiss just above her breasts. Her hands have found my belt loops once again, but not for long because I notice her unbutton my shorts. I freeze once I feel my shorts loosen around my waist, realizing what she has done.

“Take ‘em off,” she whispers in my ear, wrapping her arms around my neck again.

“Yes ma’am,” I obediently start sliding my shorts off and toss them aside. I bring my lips back to hers, missing them already. Her hands slide up and down my back, slipping them under the back of my sports bra every now and then.

I begin to trail kisses down her body again, this time going to just above her panties. I drag my tongue up her stomach, causing her to squirm. I give a few playful bites along her stomach as well, making her squirm even more.

I find myself back at her breasts. Her bra is still on, but I kind of flick between her eyes and her bra as if asking permission to take it off. She gives me a knowing smirk and arches her back so I can get the clasp. I dive right for it, undoing it with no struggles.

She slides the straps down her shoulders slowly, building anticipation. Once off, she loops a strap around her finger and flicks the bra away. Shamelessly, I just stare at her bare breasts. She was posed so gracefully underneath me. Her hair was sprawled across the table around her head, her arms were stretched overhead, and her body just looked so perfect. She looked like a painting made by the most talented artist on earth. 

Without wasting another second, I bring my hands up to caress her breasts, bringing my lips down to join them. She starts moaning in pleasure, twisting her hands into my hair. Her hands then find their way back to my sports bra. Her movements are kind of hesitant and cautious, but she quickly recovers and brings my bra up my chest. I pause what I’m doing and lift the bra the rest of the way, causing her mouth to involuntarily open.

“Yoba, you are so hot,” she moans as she takes in the flex of my muscles as I bring the bra over my head. Her eyes trail down the rest of my naked torso, lingering on my chest and stomach.  I swear she is nearly salivating at the sight of me.

Leaning back down over her, I bring my hand down to her thigh. We both watch my hand travel down that way, our breathing speeding up even more than it already is. I dance my hand around her thighs, and slowly make my way to the fabric of her panties. I look back at her to see she is still watching my hand, biting her lip. I carefully dance my fingers to the waistband and slide my hands underneath it. She bites down on her lip harder and she closes her eyes, waiting for my fingers to finally make contact with her clit. When I hold my hand in place and don’t move any further, she opens her eyes and looks up at me.

“Are you sure you are okay with this?” I double check, not wanting to push her too far.

“Absolutely I am,” she grabs my chin and brings my lips down to hers. I feel her tongue part my lips this time, getting more intense with the kiss. I move my hand farther down her panties just the way she hoped for. 

When my fingers finally met her clit, she was already dripping wet making for easy movements of my fingers. She moans against my lips, spreading her legs further apart for me. 

“Can I take these off?” I snap the band of her panties against her waist. She nods in agreement, not breaking her concentration from the movement of my fingers. I stop for just a second to take the last of her clothing off, and go right back to what I was doing. 

After a few seconds of just moving my fingers around her clit, I gently start pumping a finger into her. She arches her back a bit, letting out a little gasp. One finger soon becomes two, causing her to start squirming from pleasure. 

“Danny…” she moans, fighting to not make too much noise. 

“Haley…” I whisper back, causing her to whimper. Not too long after, I feel her start throbbing against my fingers. She grabs at my back and digs her nails in. She tilts her head back and lets out a gasp. I quicken the pace, and softly cover her mouth with my free hand with a smirk on my face. Emily is asleep in the house, we can’t be too loud. 

She relaxes her body and slows her breathing down, so I move my hand from her mouth and remove my fingers. I watch her face as she tries to recollect her thoughts and morals. 

She sits up on her arms and just stares at me straddling her legs. I lick my two fingers clean, which causes her jaw to drop. I shoot her a wink.

“I’ve never…had that so good…ever,” she sighs, still trying to catch her breath.

“That’s cause you’ve never had it done by a girl, pretty lady,” I smack the side of her thigh twice and slide off the table. Chivalrously, I begin to find her undergarments first. I come across what feels to be hers, and allow her to step into the leg holes of her underwear. She slides off the table and I yank them all the way up for her. I then hold the straps of her bra up and she waves me off.

“I won’t be needing that for the rest of the night. It’s pajama time,” she finds my flannel, bra and shorts from the ground and hands them to me. “However, I don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you… so you better hope nobody walks in on us sleeping.”

“So you get cute little pjs and I have to sleep naked?” I tease.

“I’m not complaining,” she winks as the two of us leave the dark room. 

“Mmm neither am I. I doubt those little pjs are staying on long anyway,” I flop onto her bed, tossing my clothes aside. 

“In your dreams,” she shoots back.

“It sure will be,” I chuckle. She slips on a light pink nightgown and gets into bed with me.

“That was nice,” Haley whispers after a few moments of silence, blushing immensely. 

[thequietkid-moonie]

Yandere Brand new animal characters (of your choosing) who are in love with a human reader who is at the peak human threshold of what a human can do

Who is also often times hired by Anti-beastmen organizations to hunt and take down beastmen for money.

(I’ll also leave it up for you to decide if you want to make them hate beastmen or not too as well)

Stronge and smart darling works for a anti-beastmen organization to help

[ YANDERE HEADCANONS ] [ Shirou Ogami ]

[ Brand New Animal ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

Now that i finally decided to write this request (that has being on my ask box for so long, sorry about that) i decided to watch Brand New Animal again, so thank you 🤭

Also, im SO sorry I swear but between the writers block and the depresive state I just managed to write one character

sorrysorrysorry 🙇🏻🙇🏻🙇🏻 sorrysorrysorry

Ogami despises all human kind, he hates them with all his being for what they have done to the beastmen, and just like that he absolutely hate any beastmen that dares to work with the humans to go against the other beastmen, thats why since the first moment even just Ogami persived your human scent on some of the most recent beastmen that came to Anima City to search for shelter he can feel his blood boild on his veins

Despite being angry and don't have mercy when it comes to human kind he lets the beastmen take the time to explain themselfs (only if they weren't doing anything suspicious or being a obvious threaten), and the story is always the same a really stronge human that either offer them their help or end up chaising them when trying to reach Anima City, a human that despite openly being part of an organization anti-beastmen and despite chaising them the human end up guiding them in the safest way towards the the frontier to Anima City

No matter how much times he heard the same story Ogami just can't believe it and he refuse to do so, he is just too anger with the human kind that the idea of a human willing to help beastmen in any way is nothing but a joke, specially someone that works for a anti-beastmen organization

Is probably that he even end up even asking the mayor about it once he gets tired of hearing the same story over and over again and still feeling confused about this whole situation, there are chances that the mayor actually knows about you and what you have being doing to help because she has to know what happened around the beastmen to be able to protect them and Anima City, but even when the mayor confirm that you actually want to help he just feels more frustrated and even mad at you for it

Ogami is completely blinded by his frustration and anger to even understand what it is going on his mind, he have hated human kind for all his life that now that there is the smallest posibility of a human actually helping and looking after the beastmen is so unreal and yet the more he heard the story the more hope builds inside of him, what he hates and that is actually making him feel frustrated and angry, as well the fact that the more he can persive your scent the more used to it he become and even start to crave it just make him hate the whole situation even more

It can take a lot of time before Ogami reaches his limit where he can just handle it anymore and set off on his journey to now be him the one chaising you, now constantly wandering around the frontier with the human city, taking advantage of his sharp habilities to be able to quickly track your steps

It doesn't really take much time before he finally gets to met you and even when he was planing on get answer out of you (even when his mind is so clouded that he can't think right) the moment he finally met you is like if all the thoughts that have being troubling his mind just clear and let his true feelings come out, he probably just end up fighting against you but is in that fight that he end up realicing that what he wanted the most is to meet to, to demostrate himself that you are actually real

When he finally realices that all those stories are true and that you are actually fighting to help the beastmen, using you amazing strength and habilities to help his kind he gets even more confused, but this time because now his mind is more clear now and he can identify that strange feeling growing inside of him, that feeling that makes him want to persive more of your scent, to want to see you again and even have you close, he doesn't understand why it is he feeling that way (specially towards a human) but at this point he can't just ignore those feelings anymore, the problem comes whit that he doesn't understand what to do now