#but then he was like and I’ll explain why I’m doing it

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

taglist in reblogs

#lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #f1 x reader #lando norris smut #f1 fluff #f1 angst #lando norris blurb #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x you #formula one #f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris x gn!reader #formula one angst #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 angst #formula one x reader

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Why do you keep laughing? - Azriel x reader

Summary: you got drunk at Rita's and ask Az to come get you, so he takes care of you, leading up to you being desperate for your mate.

A/N: I wrote something like this for Lucien, and I loved it so I decided to write this for some other characters too :) I think I'm gonna do some good old angst for Az next (but with a happy ending), you can send me ideas if you want to xx

Warnings: suggestiveness, drunk reader

“Azzie!” you screech, running into Azriel’s arms when you finally realize he's walking through the front door of Rita’s. Az’s suspicions were right, you were indeed very drunk. Luckily, you called him through your bond to pick you up. “What are you doing here?! I didn’t expect you” you blush shyly like he hadn’t been your mate for the last 50 years.

So that makes your excitement clear, you didn’t remember calling him. “You called me to pick you up baby” he explains, stroking your back slowly. Az startles when you let out a sudden scream. “Ah! I love this song! Please come dance with me” you squeal, not waiting for his answer, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him with you on the dance floor. It was obvious you were way to drunk to properly dance, but with him holding you it wasn’t that bad. You started moving together, both smiling broadly. Azriel couldn’t help but melt when he saw the look of pure joy on your face, happily moving around.

He got even more excited when you turned around and started to rub your ass against him, slowly but sloppily grinding against him. You pulled your arms around his neck behind you. His shadows were dancing around you too, twisting around your legs and your stomach, trying to pull you even closer to him. You've always loved dancing like this with him and Az was sure he loved it even more.

He grabs your hand and turns your front into him again. You cry out a shout of happiness as you let him spin you around, but Azriel knew the move was a mistake when he saw your expression, your smile gone and a weary look on your face. “You okay baby?” he asks concerned. “Little nauseous” you breathe out. “Wanna go home baby?” he proposes. You nodded. “Do you wanna winnow with the nausea or do you want me to fly you?” “I’ll try to not throw up when you fly” you sigh.

While you’re flying home, your face is comfortably placed in his neck. “Hmm” you hum into the warm and soft skin. “I l-love you, and I loved d-dancing with you” you stuttered drunkenly. “I love you too baby” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your head. 

When you get home he gently places you on your bed, pressing a kiss on your flushed cheek. “You take such good care of me baby, my sweet Illyrian boy“ you whine lazily, grabbing his cheeks between your fingers. Az can’t help but get flustered. “C’mon, let’s get you some sleeping clothes” he says while lovingly rubbing his thumb over you cheek. “You’re sooo sweet, I have a little secret... I wanna- I wanna date you” you mumble shyly. Azriel leans his head back and barks out a loud laugh, making you look very confused and hurt. “Why are you laughing, it’s not funny” you whine, tears forming in your eyes and lower lip trembling.

“You are my mate y/n, we’re married” he laughs. “Oh my god, that’s amazing Az, I always wanted to be your mate” you squeal, pulling him in for a big hug with such forse he falls into the bed with you. “I’m so happy” you sigh in his ear, your eyes teary. Your happiness makes his heart pound in his chest. With him laying on top of you, your face pushed in his neck, it seemed like his smell suddenly made you feral.

You started placing kisses over his neck. “Please Azzie, wanna ruin you” you try, but he only laughs, even though he can’t help but blush a little because of your words and the kisses. “Why d-do you keep laughing, I’m s-serious, you look soooo good in those Illyrian leathers baby” you stutter annoyed. “Your drunk baby” he objects. “Doesn’t matter, I want you so bad, please” you whine, pulling him closer on top of you. “Next time sweetie” he promises, mustering up all his self control.

“But.. but I.. I wanna make a child with you. Please I want to try, don’t you?” you confess. Az freezes on top of you. Where dit that come from? Since when did you want this. You’ve never really talked about this before. “You really want that?” he questions. “Yes let’s try” you whisper, but it comes out too softly and your eyes are already closing. So Az laid next to you, pulling you close to him. Promising himself he will ask you about this tomorrow, when you're in a better state.

You place your hand on his chest with a sigh, rubbing over the muscles underneath his shirt. “No, no sleep, still want you Azzie” you mumble, trying to grind on his leg. “Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you, I promise” he smiles. “You’re gonna ruin me tomorrow?” you say sleepily. He can’t help but laugh at your choice of words. “I’ll ruin you tomorrow” he chuckled in confirmation. “Good” was the last thing you whisper before you fall asleep in your mates arms. And let’s say, he kept his promise the next day.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger

[rebelfell]

Evidently never gonna be done with thoughts of these two... 18+, MDNI 4.8k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cw: unprotected piv, finishing inside

cont'd from here

The ride back to the house is silent.

No music playing. No words being said. Just the rumble of his van’s engine and the spin of its tires making the floor vibrate underneath your feet. Eddie’s hands keep tensing, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never loosening as he navigates the deserted, winding backroads.

The trip that seemed to take only minutes on the way now stretches on interminably. Like when you wake up from a dream and the elasticized time snaps abruptly back in place and you realize your alarm has been going off for over an hour and now you’re definitely late for work.

You swallow thickly as you stare out the window at the blur of trees whipping past, your fingers twisting in your lap as you pick at the skin around your thumbnail. You rack your brain for some words, any words, that might be helpful. That might somehow fix this mess you’ve made.

But there isn’t a lot left to say after the lake.

Eddie, don’t, you can’t say stuff like that.

Why not? It’s the truth, it’s how I feel, I—

Because this can’t go anywhere! I’m leaving, I’m going back to—

Then I’ll leave too! I’ll go with you, I’ll go wherever you go, I just want to be with you.

Stop it, you don’t know what you’re saying.

He tries to tell you he does mean it. He means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his whole life. He doesn’t care about Hawkins or his stupid community college classes or his handful of odd jobs he could do literally anywhere. He’ll pick up and move. He’ll work. He’ll take care of you.

He’ll do anything so long as this doesn’t end.

What about Steve?

You stare at him plainly, certain you’ve delivered a death blow. And his face does flicker, if only for a moment, as the guilt that’s been festering in his gut for months finally shows through. And even as he shakes his head as determinately as he can, the waver in his voice is unmistakable.

I’ll…I’ll explain it to him.

Explain what? That we fucked on every available surface in his house?

Eddie shrank at your harsh words, not ready for the anger that flashed in your eyes, nor the vitriol that rose in your voice when you so crassly described the best summer of his life.

No! Well…yeah, but—I don’t know, I’ll figure it out!

Okay, and then what? We date? You practically spat the word out. Show up for Christmas dinner at your best friend’s house? Sit across the table from him as his aunt’s…as my…

You can’t even say the word “boyfriend”—it feels so juvenile, so high-school.

The argument drags on until the deep, brilliant midnight blue sky begins to tinge gray with the arrival of a cold and sickly dawn. Eddie probably would have kept going until the sun rose, until it hung in the middle of the sky, until it had set and come back up all over again. But you told him as calmly as you could that you had to go back. 

It was time.

His van practically crawls to a stop in the driveway, the screech of his brakes mixing with the soft tweets of birds just beginning to stir. He shifts it into park and reaches up to grab the keys and cut the ignition, but you lay your hand on top of his to stop him.

“I don’t think you should stay,” you tell him, forcing back the wobble in your voice.

And the way he looks at you when you say it makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed. His face crumples, his brow pinching together, his mouth contorted in an ugly shape more snarl than frown.

“Don’t do this…” he says, gritting out the words through a clenched jaw. “Please.”

And it’s not the sort of begging you’re used to hearing out of him. It’s not an eager plea for you to kiss him or touch him, nor a cheeky request to fuck you somewhere you could get caught. This is real begging. It’s him clawing at you from behind a chain link fence, a lost puppy who wants only for you to take him home from the pound.

Not asking for anything but you.

“Eddie, we can’t—”

He reaches out for you, his hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, his touch somehow soft and tender despite the rigid tension you can see in his arms, in his back, in his shoulders.

“We can do anything we want,” he whispers.

His breath is warm on your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He really believes it. And god do you want to believe it too. But…

“I’m sorry.”

Tears brim along your lashline as you wedge your fingers under his to wrench them from your face, rushing to get out of the van before he can stop you. Your footsteps thud on the concrete as you retreat inside the house and lean on the door in the foyer until you hear him backing down the driveway and the glow of his headlights has disappeared completely from view.

You drift back upstairs, heading for your sister’s room that has lain untouched since they left. Past all the places you and he defiled this summer. Past your bed with its rumpled sheets that still smell of Camels and cologne. Past the guest room where Eddie barely slept, lying awake at night thinking of you instead. Past the answering machine and its flashing red light that signals a new message has been left, one you’ll listen to in the morning with bleary bloodshot eyes.

It’s your sister letting you know they’ve changed their flight. They’ll be home tomorrow.

Which is now today.

Having John and Viv back in the house is an adjustment.

Upon playing their message, you and Steve did a sweep of every room trying to get it back up to his mother’s impeccable standards you’d let slide since your arrival…in more ways than one.

You don’t see much of Steve’s father, which feels normal because you never do. Even after all the deals he closed this summer, he somehow only has to work more now that he’s home. Most mornings, he’s up and headed to the office before the rest of the world has hit the first snooze on their alarms. And some nights he stays until long after the rest of the house has gone to bed.

It gives you and your sister lots of time to talk. Well, it gives her time to talk. And the one thing she simply can’t seem to stop talking about is how incredible the yard looks.

She keeps looking out the windows and sighing wistfully as she stares at the haven Eddie has created. She starts to take her morning coffee, her afternoon tea, her evening glass of port out on the patio just to marvel at the perennials just beginning to flower. She’s beyond thrilled.

And you’re…fine. At least you can pretend like you are. Most days.

It’s easy to slip back into the state of numbness that was your home base after everything with your ex. But with him, you had just felt mad. There was no guilt or remorse eating away at your insides. No bottomless pit of doubt in your stomach, no needling thoughts of regret gnawing at you constantly. No part of you left wondering if you’d made a terrible mistake.

Or rather, another one.

What’s really not helping is Viv going out of her way to berate you about how you’re going about this all wrong. She’s quick to scold you for moping around the house, asking if this is what you’ve done all summer. She’s adamant you should be getting back out there—back on the bike or the horse or whatever other tired ass cliche you preferred.

It’s during one of these rants that the phone rings and mercifully cuts her off. Steve is calling. He left his lunch at home and he’s wondering if someone can bring it to him. Vivian grins.

“Your aunt would love to. She was just saying she needed to get out of the house.”

And she’s not wrong, even if it’s her and not the house you need a break from.

But as you make the turn into Family Video’s lot, your stomach drops at the sight of the brown and white van parked out front. Eddie’s long frame leans on the hood, unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, his hands resting on the hips of a girl he’s got pressed up against him, his fingers toying with the frilled hem of a baby pink top that flashes the bare skin of her lower back.

Your neck is as stiff as death as you walk past, keeping your eyes glued to the door in front of you, trying to ignore the breathy laugh that floats on the air and punctures your brain. You yank on the handle a little too hard, the silver bell overhead even louder in your already ringing ears.

Steve lets out a loud groan of relief when he sees you, or rather when he sees his lunch, and he tears into it right there on the sales floor. He’s the only one on today and the store is deserted— everyone likely at the pool or out enjoying the last few weeks of freedom and warm weather.

Or going for a gold medal in tonsil hockey.

You fold your arms across your chest and lean on the counter, sneaking a glance over your shoulder you know you’ll regret. Most of the display going on outside is obscured by the decals and posters on the windows, but you can still see plenty.

Eddie’s head dips to whisper something in that girl’s ear and you feel about as tall as the crumbs scattering from Steve’s sandwich.

As he chews, your nephew’s gaze follows yours out the window. His brows raise as Eddie grins and he starts to run his hands down the curve of her spine, slipping them snugly into the back pockets of her jeans. Unable to see the grimace on your face, Steve just nods approvingly.

“About time,” he sighs as he rips off another bite. “He’s been like…catatonic lately.”

The sourness in your stomach only curdles further until you mutter out a goodbye to Steve and turn to make your escape. But the very moment that you do, that girl is taking Eddie by the hand and pulling him along behind her into the store. You and she nearly collide at the door, close enough you can smell the sickly sweet peach lip gloss she’s wearing.

“Oh! Sorry, ma’am,” she says, blithely smiling as she floats over to the new releases.

Behind her, Eddie stands staunchly in the doorway. He takes up the entire exit, his dark clothes seemingly absorbing all the light in the room as you lift your chin to look him in the eye.

You expect to find contempt. Something callous and unfeeling. More than merely smug, you’re sure he will be dripping with arrogance and condescension. Because he’s got every right to be, doesn’t he? You really think I cared about you? Don’t you see how fast I can replace you?

But when you do look at him, there is only pain etched into his features. He holds your gaze for no more than a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. You think that all of civilization could be crumbling into ruin around you and you would never know because you can’t stand to tear your eyes away from his. And you don’t, until he drops his head and turns sideways to let you pass.

His cologne stings in your nostrils as you do, and your arm brushes the edge of his denim vest. And you don’t make it but a block away before you have to pull off onto a side street and cry.

For the next two weeks, the sky is permanently gray.

Dark and mottled clouds roll in sometime that evening and suddenly even the smallest sliver of sunshine becomes as precious as real gold. Their coverage is dense and the air becomes thick and muggy with humidity that only gets more oppressive, yet never gets any closer to breaking.

Every day, the house seems to get smaller. It’s like you’re a rat in a maze and the scientists who are studying you keep removing portions of it until you’ve been boxed in with no escape. But the idea of going out, the thought of running into Eddie again, is too much for you to bear the risk.

The only thing that brings you any sort of solace is that the school year will start soon and you’ll have work to distract you again. Truthfully, the only reason you have yet to extract yourself from Hawkins is because your new housing—a little craftsman you’re going to rent from the head of your department at the university—won’t be ready for you to move in until the end of August.

But the looming threat of your departure somehow only encourages Vivian.

You should have known something was up the moment she said she wanted to have a “family dinner” to celebrate your last night. You should have known when you came into your room and found a bag from her favorite department store sitting on your bed containing a sundress far too floral for your taste. It might as well have had a post-it on it that said “Wear Me” like your mother used to put on your school clothes when she laid them out for you in the morning.

If you were smart, you might have thrown it out the window. Or maybe even climbed through it yourself and scaled down the trellis to make a run for it. Instead, you put it on. And your feet are like lead on the steps as you come down to find your sister bustling around the dining room.

Your brow furrows as you count four place settings. “I thought Steve had a date,” you say.

“He does,” she hums, shooting you a sidelong glance. “And so do you.”

“Viv, no. Please don’t do this—”

“I haven’t done anything!”

She throws her hands up and smiles, but all the faux innocence in the world can’t disguise that glint of mischief in her eyes. You open your mouth to protest, but you’re cut off by the doorbell.

“That must be him,” she titters, flapping a napkin behind you to shoo you into the foyer. “Go on, now, don’t keep him waiting!”

Eddie parks his van down the street from Steve’s house, under the cover of some tree branches that hang low over the road. He smokes two cigarettes down to the filters and debates on a third as he tries to summon the courage to get out of the car. Every part of his body seems to be at odds with him, unwilling to settle until he finally kicks open the door and gets out.

His feet carry him forward in long, determined strides but they falter when he sees a car he isn’t expecting sitting in the driveway. It’s a cruiser. One Eddie found himself pulled over by on more than a few occasions, being scrutinized by the giant hulking man now ringing the doorbell.

Hopper.

He’s not in uniform. In fact, he’s more dressed up than Eddie has ever seen him, all trussed up in a sport coat over a button down that he’s actually buttoned. Shit, is his shirttail tucked in?

“Munson?” he says in surprise. “What brings you here?”

But before Eddie can answer, the door is opening and it's you on the other side. Eyes widening when they land on him and then blinking furiously when you realize Hopper is there as well.

“Um…hi.”

It’s hard to say who looks more uncomfortable as you step aside so Hopper can come in and you exchange some stilted pleasantries. You remember him from high-school and you aren’t all that surprised the town’s terminal bachelor is the one your sister has decided to foist upon you.

What is surprising is that Eddie is here. And his eyes are searing into you, while you have yet to fully acknowledge him. In all honesty, you're not entirely convinced he isn’t a hallucination. Only when Viv appears and glides into the chaos like a parade float do you actually believe it.

“I thought that was you, Chief. So glad you could make it—Oh, Eddie!” 

Her eyes fall on the boy still hovering in the doorway, her hand coming up to her chest. 

“I’m so sorry, dear, but Steve’s already left for his date. Wait right here, though, I have some money for you for all that work you did.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

Eddie takes a hurried step forward, his white sneakers finally breaching the threshold. Vivian is already gone, though, rushing up the stairs. Leaving you alone. With both of them.

“Hey…Hop. John’s in the den, if you want a drink,” you tell him, pointing the way.

With a terse nod and a gruff sound you presume is him answering in the affirmative, Hopper heads down the hall and leaves you and Eddie to your uncomfortable hovering. He leans on the narrow table in the entryway, staring at his own hand as he traces the edge of the wood with his finger, the rest of his hand closed in a fist. He won’t look at you now. Won’t lift his chin an inch.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper.

Eddie just shrugs, staring now at his sneakers he’s scuffing against the oriental rug under his feet. His mouth parts slightly, but no words come out. His chest rises with the breath he draws, but he swallows his non-response when he hears Vivian at the top of the stairs.

“Here you go, dear,” she says, handing over the envelope full of cash with his name written on it that’s been sitting on her bureau for weeks now.

His head shakes. “You really don’t have to—”

“Nonsense! You did such beautiful work out there, it was so wonderful to come home to. You ought to think about going into landscaping.”

Vivian just about forces the envelope into his hands and he mutters out a thank you, tapping his fingers on it and making furtive glances towards the door as she whirls around to you.

“You two met, right?” she asks. “He must have been here all the time working.”

“Y-yeah, yes, we—”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, stuffing the money into his back pocket and reaching for the doorknob in one motion. Still not looking you in the eye. “I’ll, um…I’m sorry to disturb you…”

He goes to leave, one foot already out the door when she suddenly stops and looks back over his shoulder. You feel your breath catch, his gaze finally lifting to meet yours.

“Have a good night,” he says quietly. And then he’s gone.

The door doesn’t slam. He doesn’t even shut it particularly hard. Still, you can’t help but flinch as it closes soundly behind him. There’s something so final about it, but it doesn’t feel like enough after everything that’s happened—it doesn’t feel right for it to end with something so hollow.

Vivian just smiles and loops her arm with yours.

“Ready to go find the boys?”

You walk Hopper to the door after dinner, more or less coerced into it by your sister.

There’s a slight scuffle as you try and figure out how to say goodnight to one another. He winds up reaching out a hand as big as a bear’s paw and clumsily pats your shoulder, almost like he is one, when he seemingly can’t decide between hugging you or shaking your hand. 

Chuckling through it the best you can, you keep the same fake smile you’ve worn all night firmly plastered in place until the door closes with him on the other side. And you stand there for a minute, not too keen on going back in the kitchen for your impending cross-examination.

But then your eyes land on the vase sitting on the table in the entryway. More specifically, on the folded piece of paper tucked behind it with only a ripped edge peeking out. 

You reach for it, flashing back to a ringed finger tracing the edge of that table, fist clenched around something, and your hands shake as you unfold it to read Eddie’s note scrawled inside.

I’m parked down the street.

It’s just starting to rain as you hurry down the driveway, skulking through shadows as you walk along the quiet street. In the distance, you can hear the rumble of the approaching storm as fat raindrops hit the top of your head and slide down your scalp through the forest of your roots.

A pitch black sky overhead matches the road under your feet, scantly lit by a lone streetlight. The wind picks up as you look around for Eddie’s van and just when you’re starting to think he must have left already, you spot him on the side of the road under the cover of some trees.

At first all you can see is the glowing orange dot at the end of his cigarette, but his face steadily comes into view as you approach the driver’s side door. A blatant attempt to avoid what you know will happen if you climb in the passenger seat.

The rain starts to fall a little harder as he rolls his window down. It soaks the ground at your feet, clouds of steam rising from the pavement. The air is thick and heavy, like standing in a bowl of soup. It has your shoulders sagging with the weight and your lungs struggling to draw breath.

At least that’s what you let yourself believe.

“How was your date?” Eddie asks with a bitter laugh that does little to disguise his disgust. You shake your head, pushing back a wet piece of hair clinging to your cheek.

“It wasn’t a…It was just dinner.”

The hurt in your voice makes his eyes round and soften, cheeks hollowing as he takes a long drag. Seemingly breathing in as deeply as he can to steady his own frayed nerves.

“I was afraid you might have left already,” he says.

“No,” you tell him, eyes falling to your feet. “Not ‘til tomorrow.”

He nods.

“I, uh—I know I shouldn’t just show up like this. But I wanted to tell you…” His jaw is clenched, bottom lip shaking almost imperceptibly, corners of his mouth turning downwards as he stubs out his smoke. “I need you to know that I don’t regret it. Any of it.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours on the last words, brown eyes like twin black holes that hold all the mysteries of the universe. There’s a terrifying vastness to them, a depth you’ve only barely scratched the surface of. Your lips press together and you pinch your eyes shut as your hand creeps up to rest on the door, fingers curling around it as raindrops splash on the interior.

The thunder only gets louder as the storm nears, the rain now falling in a rapid patter. Here it is, you tell yourself. This is what you knew was coming. This is where you knew you’d end up.

“I don’t regret it either,” you say, raising your voice over the sound of the rain, forcing down the tremble in it. “And I…I’ll never forget it.”

You can only hold his gaze for a second before you have to look away. And as you do, you give the door a tight squeeze, wishing it was his hand instead.

“Bye, Eddie.”

Your feet carry you away like you’re on autopilot.

You’re barely conscious of the steps you take or the direction you head in as the rain ramps up to a downpour and fully soaks through your clothes. Your head is spinning and foggy, unable to register much of anything until one sound breaks through—the creak of the van door swinging open and slamming shut, followed by the splashing of water under sneakers.

The solid weight of his hand on your shoulder makes you start as he turns you towards him, the rain falling harder and the wind blowing faster all around. The trees overhead whip back and forth in a frenzy, their branches dipping low and their leaves swirling wildly in the air.

“Eddie, someone could see—”

He wraps his hands around your wrists to wrench you closer, pulling you into his body, both of your faces splattered with rain, barely able to see anything beyond each other.

“Let them,” he breathes out before his lips slam into yours.

The sound of the storm is only magnified inside of Eddie’s van, every drop of rain on the metal roof practically deafening as you climb through the rear and your bodies slide against the floor. The carpet inside is rough and scratchy, the fibers imbedded with decades worth of dirt and crumbs and tobacco and weed particles, but you can’t find the will within you to care.

All you can think about, all you can focus on, is him.

His kiss is harsh and punishing, lips mashing rough against yours, teeth clacking as he devours you. Aggressive and bruising in a way that, deep down, you know you deserve. 

Your wet clothes cleave to your bodies as you struggle to drag them off, steadfast in their refusal despite your feverish attempts. Eddie’s jeans and boxers only make it to the middle of his thighs before he’s pushing inside of you and a strangled moan releases from his throat.

The stretch makes you writhe, the stinging pain quickly becoming an afterthought as your need for him overrides everything else. You fist his wet shirt in your hands, rivulets of water trickling down your forearms as you clutch it tight to pull his body as close to yours as it can get.

Adrenaline races in your veins as he begins to thrust and you realize it’s the first time he’s taken you bare, the velvet of his skin dragging against your walls with nothing to separate you.

He fucks you fast and hard, your legs kicking up to wrap around his waist, your ass burning from the friction, your muscles tightening and tensing with every move. His whole body is quaking as he drives himself inside, the van rocking, teetering like it’s about to tip over the edge of a cliff.

He fucks you like it’s the last time he’ll get to, because he’s pretty sure it will be.

“Let me come in you,” he groans in your ear, more command than request. “Want to fill you up, want you to feel every…fucking…drop…”

The words are grunted out in time with his thrusts, his hips pushing deeper with every heaving breath, his cock twitching inside you as your walls pulse and tighten around him.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god!”

Your fingers weave into his wet curls, twisting them in your grasp at the root, tugging his head up and holding him there so you can stare into his eyes, your own vision strained in the dark.

Lightning flashes through the windshield, followed instantly by a clap of thunder. So close it could have struck right outside. For an instant, the van is illuminated and you see his face fully—eyes wide and wild, hair half-dried in damp coils, tattoos stark against pale skin that glows white.

It only lasts a second, but it shows you everything you need to see.

“Come, Eddie,” you gasp as the lightning dissipates and the whole van rattles from the force. “Want you to come for me, come in me—”

And he does. As fast and hard as the lightning strike, Eddie’s cock bursts with rope after rope of his release spurting inside of you, your center tingling as the feeling of it spreads throughout your body. The noise he makes in your ear is ungodly. It pours out from deep in his throat, guttural and resonant as the echoing claps of thunder. He drops all of his weight onto you, shaking from the force of his orgasm as you’re flattened between him and the floor.

“It’s okay,” you coo softly, your fingers loosening your grip on his hair to stroke it instead, nails dragging soft and slow against his scalp.

He shivers at your gentle and soothing touch, inhaling shaky breaths of you with his face pressed to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Safe and dark and warm.

“I love you,” he says, his voice cracking in a dry sob as his tears slide off his cheeks to mix with the rainwater and sweat on your skin. Your throat clenches as you swallow, still trying to force down the words that have sat heavy in the center of your chest for weeks now, fighting to be said.

Finally, finally, finally, they make it out.

“I love you too.”

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requested tags: @winchester-angel @nope-thanks @skyfullofsong123 @mmmunson @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut

[lovrre]

Agreement Prt2

I wrote half of this to Need by pinegrove ♫

Art Donaldson x fem black reader

Prt1 here

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex, creampie,slight breeding kink if you squint. cursing (ofc) slightly domestic relationship (not with Art)and probably some other stuff.

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: I’m so glad I finished I was scared I wasn’t, but your comments gave gave me motivation. Thank you pookies 🫦 I like this one a lot more than the first one. Arts also very obsessed and in love in this one.

After twenty minutes, you finish your meal, alone. You decide to leave through a back exit to avoid the paparazzi waiting outside the hotel entrance. You stumble upon a narrow hallway and carefully make your way out, trying not to attract any attention. When you reach the entrance of the restaurant, you open the door and are greeted by a charming and seemingly empty establishment. The cozy yellow lighting, old pictures, and paintings on the walls, along with the white tablecloths and wooden woven chairs, remind you of an old Italian restaurant you and Art used to go to. You see moving in your peripheral and catch a glimpse of familiar golden locks.

You walk closer to see Art and Patrick sitting at a small square table with a vacant seat, you assume is reserved for you. Patrick with a full plate of food and Art without. "Patrick?" You question, your voice filled with suspicion as you creep towards the table. He looks back at the sound of your In voice, a smile forming on his face as he stands up, “What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, taken aback going in for a hug. Patrick returns it with a laugh before releasing from the hug slightly to look at Art.

“Ask him” You look between them confused. “I asked him to come here” Art states, adjusting in his seat. “Why?“ you ask clearly confused with the situation, “someone could see” you add your gripping the back of your chair almost afraid to sit down. “I bought the place out for an hour, it’s just us” Art reveals looking up at you. “You what?” you exclaim, a bit louder than you intended.

“I’ll explain everything in a minute, just sit” Art laughs, gesturing for you to sit down. You let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling out your chair. “Ok tell me what is going on” you say, slightly impatient. “We’ve got a plan for your marriage situation”, Patrick says, mixing his ice tea with his straw. “A plan?” you repeat, still confused. "Yes, a plan," Art confirms with a nod. Patrick takes a quick sip of his tea before opening a tan folder that he hadn't noticed before. “The private investigator dropped these off at the dorm the other day”, Patrick says, pushing the open folder towards you.

Inside were pictures of your fiancée , kissing all types of women. The worst part is, it was so obvious, he didn’t have a care in the world, every photo taken on different days in different settings. Outside, inside in the morning and at night, all different women.

You knew you shouldn't be upset, but you were, not because he was seeing other people behind your back, shit you were doing that same with Art, but it was the fact he acted holier than thou. That he continued to try and control you while actively putting your agreement at risk. “Wow…” you mutter.

Shuffling through the photos. “That’s not even all of them” Art says.

“Yeah… I accidentally left the other ones, but these are the most important ones. There’s also some paperwork underneath with names, time stamps and dates on stuff” Patrick ads. “How isn’t this everywhere?” You ask, furrowing your brow. “The investigator thinks he’s been paying them off,” Patrick says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Not that I don't want you here, but couldn't you just have faxed these over?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah... but then I'd miss the match," Patrick says with a grin, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I would never miss an opportunity to help my best buds."

"Okay, so what are we doing with these?" you ask, holding up the pictures in confusion.

"We're going to spin it," Patrick replies, still chewing his food. "My plan," Art reminds him, "my bad," Patrick laughs, still chewing his food. You couldn’t help but smile, you’d missed the three of you together.

"We're going to spin it," Art repeats, making you smile wider. "Is this why you're training with my father?" you interject . Art nods in response. "Why didn't you tell me any of this last night?"

Art didn't say anything, a knowing smile spread across his face. Patrick looks between the two of you "freaks," he jokes, "Anyway... how do you plan on spinning it?" You ask, ignoring his comment.

“We lean into the infidelity, take a couple of photos of you crying, the two of you arguing, or something like that release them”, Art explains confidently.

“But… I don’t see how this stops us from getting married, it’ll just look like I got cheated on,” you say, scrunching your brow.

“We’re hoping this, plus me winning today, will be enough to persuade the media against him?”

“You believe you can win?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Okay… I’m down.”

“Told you,” Patrick added, still drinking his tea.

“Are you especially thirsty or something today?” you ask, tilting your head slightly watching him slurp down his tea. A second one untouched, waiting for him.

“I am actually, thank you for noticing,” Patrick says with a big smile before taking another sip.
You notice Art's eyes drop to Patrick’s plate for a second time while you two are talking.

“You should eat.”

“What?” Patrick says, looking between the two of you who seemed to be having your own conversation. 

“No, I’m okay,” Art says, shaking his head.

“Mike had French toast for breakfast, I think you could have-“ you cut yourself off, looking down at Patrick’s plate. “Egg and sausage.”

“You guys aren’t talking about my food?” Patrick asks, slightly disturbed by your conversation.

“Patrick, I can buy you some more damn eggs,” you assure him as Art pulls the plate from under him.

“What just happened?” Patrick asked, looking around confused with no food in front of him.

Your phone rings, and you look down to see who it is. “It’s my Dad,” you inform, excusing yourself you answering the phone as you walk out of earshot.

The two of them watch your backside as you walk away. “She still looks good”, Patrick bites his lip, leaning over to Art.


“Careful, ” Art warns.


“What? you guys can joke about but I can’t?”


“Exactly”, Art laughs, plucking him on the head.

~~~~

With a dig, the elevator door opens, releasing you to your floor. You walk to your room, opening the door with your key card. Mike is packing stuff away in his duffle bag, getting ready to see your father. You don’t acknowledge him walking past him into the bedroom,leaving the door open. You sit on the edge of the bed carefully taking off your heals, you stand up and unzip the back of your dress with ease. The dress gracefully falls into a pile at your feet leaving you in only your underwear. You step over your dress and begin looking through your suitcase located in the closet. The sound of footsteps causes you to look up to see Mike in the doorway watching you.


“Where are you going?” Mike asked, leaning on the door frame slightly. You don’t answer right away looking for your dress under your neatly folded clothes. “There’s a press meeting with Art Donaldson's team, My Dad thought it’d look good if I’d came ” you say, moving more clothes around. “You didn’t come to mine” Mike states still watching you search.

“You didn’t ask me to” you responded, pulling out a light pink dress from your suitcase. There’s a beat of silence as Mike watches your actions "and you need to change for this press meeting?” Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "No, but I want to” you say, standing up. When you see mike's eyes roaming up and down your body, you suddenly remembered you were only in your underwear. 


“Can you turn around or something” you ask, scrunching your face up in disgust. “I’ve seen more than this” Mike chuckles before obliging and turning around. You roll your eyes by stepping into your dress. “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning, I’m just stressed,” he admits.

" Really?," you hum, pulling up the straps of your dress.

"I don't want to be that guy," Mike responds, still facing away.

"But you are constantly being that guy..." you mumble, but Mike hears you. 

"I won't anymore. I want this marriage to work y/n, I.”


You release a heavy sigh at his word. “You can turn around now ” You announce zipping up the side of your dress. Mike turns around and watches as you sit back on the edge of the bed putting on your heels. “You’re still going to that thing?” Mike asks with a confused expression. “What about that conversation gave off the vibe that I was no longer going?” You say pulling your stiletto over your heel.


Mike goes silently for a moment watching you walk toward the bathroom. “Like you need more makeup?” Mike scoffs. “Be honest with me are you fucking him?” He asks from behind you in the doorway while you remove a bit of smudged lipstick. “are you serious right now?” You ask staring at him through the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not a fucking idiot, I saw the way you looked at each other, and I get the feeling that’s wasn’t your first time meeting” 


“Only god knows what you’re doing at that college” you can’t stop your self from laughing. “I think you’re projecting” you say walking past him towards the door, picking up your purse on the way. “Where the fuck are you going?” Mike calls out, following you. 

You swing the door open and step out into the hallway. Mike trails behind and tries to grab your arm to pull you back inside. “DONT TOUCH ME!” You yell yanking your arm back. “C’mon Don’t make a scene” Mike says looking around. 


“You have some fucking nerve, you know that? Your friend Isabel came up here earlier looking for you, I’m guessing you guys have a lot of fun In Detroit” you say with a smile. “When were you in Detroit again…my birthday? You ask rhetorically, Mike goes silent for a moment before responding.
 "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, trying to keep his voice down. "You don't?" you question. "What about Sarah, Kim, Kate, Alex? Do you not know them either?" Mike opens his mouth, then closes it. "Yeah…" you drawl, 


"they meant nothing to me... I just needed to get it out of my system before fully committing. I want this to work, I want this to be real, y/n," Mike says, trying to corner against the door in a situation similar to the one you were in with Art last night.

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," you respond, attempting to push past him. He grabs you again using his strength. You had forgotten how strong he actually was. “Last warning” you say looking up at Mike. he can tell by the look in your eyes you’re serious, he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going to do but something in his gut said don’t test it. “Let. Go” you repeat one more time before a voice interrupts you.

“Is everything ok?” Patrick asked from the end of the hallway. "Yeah, everything's fine," Mike reassured with a smile, gently releasing his grip on him. "We'll continue this conversation later," Mike says, forcing a tight-lipped smile as he presses the elevator button. "No, we won't," you smile back with a wave, as the elevator door chimes and he leaves. "Are you okay?" Patrick asks, walking up to you. "Yeah, he wasn’t going to hit me, he knows better," you laugh. "I was actually more concerned about you hitting him," Patrick jokes.

“I got the picture though” he smiles, showing you a camera and clicking through the images of your altercation with Mike.”These are good, you should take them now, I’ll call Art and tell him I’m on the way” you say, pulling out your phone.

“I’ll miss the game” Patrick states with a slight pout.

“Not if you hurry.”

~~~~~

"I won't keep you much longer, just a few more questions," the female interviewer says, holding the microphone up to Art. "Was the training for this upcoming match particularly challenging?" Before the interviewer could finish her sentence, Art was shaking his head. "Not necessarily, different for sure, but not harder."

"As of now, can you confirm or deny the rumor that you have started working with Olympic Coach Dylan Y\L\N?" the interviewer asked, lifting the mic slightly closer to his mouth. "Ummm," Art hesitates, accompanied by a smile. "I think I can. Yes, Dylan is my new coach."

"So you and your opponent today have trained under the same coach?" the interviewer asks, scrunching her brow. "Yes, we have," Art nods. "One more question, is there any special woman in Art Donaldson's life right now?" the interviewer asks with a smile. The sound of camera clicking intensifies, catching Art's attention. Intrigued, the interviewer turns around as well. "She is beautiful," Art says absentmindedly, staring in the direction where you're coming from. You give small waves to friends as you walk in. "That's your opponent's fiancé... and I guess also your trainer's daughter?" the interviewer says, looking confused and turning back to face Art.

"Really?" Art asks, faking shock with a dazed expression. "Yes," the interviewer nods. "I mean.. I meant what I said, She is beautiful," Art said with a laugh, causing the interviewer to join in. His eyes never leaving you. "Does your coach know you have a crush on his daughter?" the interviewer joked, chuckling. "He might now," Art says with a laugh before giving a quiet , "Nice meeting you," as he walks away out of frame.

A short while later, you find yourself reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby table, inserting one of those adorable green straws they had. Just as you're about to take a sip, a voice catches you off guard from behind. "There you are," Art says, a smile lighting up his face as he jogs towards you. As he approaches, you can't help but notice how close he gets, almost too close.

"You're not exactly great at keeping secrets, huh?" you chuckle, taking a step back. Art smirks, "Can't two friends have a conversation?" Peeking over your shoulder at the ongoing interviews, you reply with a straw in your mouth, "We're not even supposed to be friends. You're supposed to be my Dad's client, or from what I heard your crush." You laugh, recalling a question from one of the interviewers. "You're going to get us caught," you whisper quietly into the straw.

"I understand. I can't stand next to my trainer's daughter," Art nods, "Orrr, my opponents, fiancé, but maybe can I stand close to my crush?" Art asks.

 “I think you could, yeah” you nod trying to keep the smile on your face. “Crush it is,” Art says with a smile taking a step forward, yet still maintaining a slight distance. “Did you get the pictures?” Art asks his eyes falling down to your lips. “Yeah, we got them," you confirm with a nod, unable to hide your smile when you notice his lingering gaze. “So we’re in the clear?” his eyes still fixated on your lips, as if he's ready to pounce. "Not yet," you laugh, taking a step back. "We have to wait for them to go to press." Art throws his head back with a strained laugh, and you can't help but watch his Adam's apple bobs up and down. You hadn’t realized until that moment how much you wanted him, it was an all consuming need.

“Just one day," you murmur, unsure if you're speaking to Art or yourself. "Just one day," Art echoes, his eyes now fixed on your neck, his finger brushing your curls away. You watch as he exhales shakily, looking at the fading hickeys on your shoulder, barely hidden by makeup. "Just one day," you remind, removing his hand from your chest. "Just one day," Art repeats, tearing his gaze away to look back up at you. "Your car is here, Mr. Donaldson," a man in black approaches and announces.

“One minute” Art says, gesturing for another second. The man nods in acknowledgment and walks away. “Come with me?” Art asked. “I don’t think that’ll look good.” You alluded to the countless people with cameras surrounding you.

“I couldn’t care less” Art says, shaking his head slightly. “I’d kiss you right here, if you’d let me ” Arts words catch you off guard, and you take a deep breath to try to steady your heart beat. 

“This planning stuff is more for you than me, so you can feel more comfortable. And I’m perfectly fine doing it,’s just …” he trails of his eyes falling back down to your lip. "Alright, I'll come," you rush out, convincing yourself it's to prevent him from kissing you right then. But deep down you knew you just wanted to be near him. You follow closely behind.

Art swiftly enters the car before you lean up, capturing you with a kiss. Before you could even fully step inside, his hand gently grasped your cheek, drawing you closer to his lips as he guided you into the vehicle. Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender to the kiss. practically falling inside. The sound of the car door closing behind you brings you back to reality, but the kiss continues to deepen. Suddenly, the driver rolls up the partition, creating a sense of privacy.

A sense of responsibility tugs at you, and you reluctantly break the kiss when Art's hand starts to wander up your bare leg. "We can't," you whisper, "We don't even have a condom," you add, hoping the driver couldn’t overhear.


“You’re right” Art mumbles, sitting back against the seat trying to catch his breath. “ I lost myself for a second” Art laughs, attempting to slow his heartbreak. ”After the game I’ll come to your room” you nod, looking forward trying to gather yourself. “Don’t talk about that, talk about something else” Art says his voice coming out more strained. “Like what?” You turn around and ask. Your eyes landing on the strained erection in his pants. “Oh!” You say, snapping your head back forward. The familiar ache of your core comes back, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to control yourself.


Against your better judgment, you take another peak. His hard shaft still straining against the fabric, you could damn near see the veins on his dick. “Can I?” You ask in a voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah” Art replies with a nod agjusting in his seat. You rub your hand back and forth against the Arts bulge while listen as his breath becomes more and more ragged.


Art makes a low moan and that’s enough for you to begin unzipping his pants. Against his better judgment he stops you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you nod breathlessly, fumbling with his pants, pulling them down until his dick springs free. When you begin pumping his shaft, he takes in a sharp breath which causes you to smile. You savor the feeling of his heavy dick in your hand, trying to combat the thoughts of his thick long length inside you. When Art's hips buck into your hand, you fold. “I need you inside of me”, Art opens his mouth to protest and then closes, watching as you bunch up your dress around your waist, pull your panties to the side and straddle him. He grabs your waist with one hand and lines himself up with your entrance with the other. 


You sink onto him with a little too loudly of a moan and Art does the same. Opening his mouth for a sloppy kiss, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, moving you up and down his dick by your waist. ”shit I-“ Art groans out a wave of pleasure hitting him.
“-I can’t go back to condoms” he moaned, scrunching his brow in pleasure. You laugh and Art quickly retaliates by slamming you hard down on him. You let out a loud moan reflexively using your hand, trying to pull off slightly.

Art moves your hand out of the way, holding you down on him by your waist. “I’m serious”, Art grows leaning forward for another kiss while returning to his previous, rhythm. His words cause you to squeeze around him, and he lets out another low ground throwing his head back, breaking the kiss.



“I’m not going to last much longer” Art says breathlessly. “Just a little longer baby” you coo, leaving kisses on his Adam’s apple down his neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that” you moan feeling his pace fastest. “I do?” you feel Art smile against your cheek. You nod, falling into the crook of his neck enjoying the feeling of him fucking into you. “I want you to cum in me” you whisper, kissing the crook of his neck. “Fuck” Art groans, throwing his head back again. “You’re going to kill me” he states with a strained laugh.


You feel your release building so you decide to taunt him. ”you don’t want to fill me up?” You ask innocently, removing your head from the crook of his shoulder. Look down at him with lust, filled eyes. “Don’t” Art warns, his grip on your waist tightening, “you don’t want to give me a baby?” You huff out trying to keep your voice steady literally feeling him in your stomach. “Fuc- shit shit shitttt” Art moans holding you down onto him filling you up with his cum. His moans echoed through the car, the poor driver. 


“Fuck,” Art states after a minute. “Yea fuck,” you laugh, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “I think I might have a breeding kink”. Art laughs, “Me too,” you say with a smile, leaving another kiss on his head. You feel him twitch inside you, and knowing Art, you knew he would be ready for round two in a minute. You try to get off, but he holds you tighter, keeping you stationary. 

“I want it to stick” he smiles. Oh his smile, you rolled your eyes. You loved him, you knew it now, and you had a feeling he did too. You had been lying to yourself pretending you liked you didn’t care as much as he did. But at that moment you knew you never wanted anyone but him.



You glance out the window to see you were seconds away from the stadium, and then you notice your father standing on the sidewalk. “Oh my god! MY DAD HERE” you say, scurrying out of Art's lap. Art looks out the window, seeing your father standing on the sidewalk expectingly. “Shit” Art huffs, sitting up slightly, pulling up his pants, you take a wet rag next to the champagne and quickly wipe the inside of your leg. You quickly fix yourself before rushing to wipe off any remains of your lipstick off his mouth with your hand.

"Oh no, do I have lipstick on my mouth?" you ask frantically. "Nope, all clear," Art replies with a grin, planting a quick kiss on your lips. "Art," you warn, settling back in your seat. "My bad," Art chuckles, getting ready to exit the car. The car come to stop and your dad Yanks open the door.

"Hurry up, we're late. Mike's already inside," your Dad urges, When he sees you, his expression turns puzzled.

"We were heading in the same direction, so we decided to ride together," you explain before he can say anything. Your dad eyed you both suspiciously. "Alright, let's go," he says, ushering Art into the building. You wanted to say goodbye or wish him luck, and you could sense Art wanted to as well but it would be just too obvious.

You step out of the car, rummaging through your wallet. You tap on the driver's window, and he rolls it down. "Sorry about that," you apologize, handing him a 100 dollar bill before heading into the building.

Once inside the stadium you sit next to your Dad’s team which was now also partially Arts team and somehow also Mikes. Your phone buzzes and look down to see a familiar unsaved number.

“I think your Dad on to us”

“What did he say?” you text back anxiously your fingers moving fast on the keys.

“Nothing really, but i think he knows”

“Did he seem mad?”

“Not really”

“That’s good” you send, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Good luck :)” you add before stuffing your phone in your purse . Almost immediately your phone dings and you pull it back out.

“You gave me enough of that in the car ; )” you can’t help but smile at his corniness.

“You’re nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you” you’re about to laugh at his message when you hear a voice directly behind you. “You guys are actually freaks” Patrick says with a laugh jumping over the seat so he was directly next to you. “I applaud you guys for staying consistent at least” Patrick says lightly hitting you on the shoulder. “Can you mind your business” you say rolling your eyes, stuffing your phone in your purse.

“Actually I’ve been minding you two’s business all day with no pay by the way” Patrick adds. “So I think I’ve earned the right to be a little nosy” Patrick says making a pinching gesture.

“So you delivered the pictures?”

“Yes” he responded with a nod

“Thank you” you express your appreciation, turning your attention back to the court.

“Do you think he’s gonna win” Patrick asks leaning in slightly, curious to your answer.

"I hope so, but I don't know. I haven't seen him play in a while," you admit with a weak smile, the reality of the situation sinking in. "I really hope he does win," you mumble.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

#black reader #art donaldson x black reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers fanfic #challengers #Art Donaldson breeding #patrick zweig #Spotify #challengers fic #mike faist #mike faist smut #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fic

[gyundo]

“A Meeting I’ll Never Forget”

Lee Jeno (Jeno) x Male Reader!!

SMUT! Interact at your own risk!

Plot: Two princes meet fatefully, and fit each other like a long-lost lock and key

Prince L/N Y/N was the oldest son of the king of Escrow. The Escrowian empire had started with the prince’s great-grandfather, who had risen to power as a mercenary that had fallen out of favor of another kingdom and had come to Escrow to establish his own empire.

Y/N, on the other hand, had no desire to rule over his kingdom. He was obviously going to accept his position as his father’s heir, but the duties didn’t particularly strike him as interesting. Y/N always had a preference for tasks such as cooking, baking, and the arts, such as singing and dancing, which earned him many scoldings from his parents.

Y/N’s parents cursed him on many occasions, explaining to him that his preferences were that of commoners, but it fell on deaf ears. Y/N continued to do as he pleased, and he never attended his swordsmanship lessons or any physical training. This, for a prince, Y/N was quite weak. Although, thanks to the nagging of his father, Y/N was stronger than the average person and did have some minor muscle definition.

As young people often do, Y/N neglected his responsibilities, and for a royal, this was intolerable. As Y/N’s father received an invitation for a meeting, he realized this was the perfect opportunity to put his son in order.

“You will be escorted by my personal order to the Kingdom of Travania in order to attend the meeting on the 25th of this month, Y/N” the King spoke with confidence in his throne room.

“B-but that’s so boring father, why should I sit in a carriage for 5 days with no proper food to go meet some random crusty king in a faraway kingdom?” Y/N complained, in a typical young adult fashion.

“King Jeno is an extremely influential man in his area. You mustn’t forget that your grandfather was from Travania himself. It is in our best interests to make relations favorable between our empire and his kingdom, if we wish to avoid any wars for hundreds of years.” the emperor promptly replied.

“B-but father, I don’t wanna go—,” Y/N whined.

“That’s enough out of you. Remember I’m not just your father but the emperor as well. You will go meet King Jeno. Do whatever it takes to curry favor with him,” the emperor bellowed.

Y/N stomped out of the throne room and ordered his servants to pack his things and prepare the carriage. He knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter and before he knew it, he was sitting in the carriage and already left the capital.

Y/N was angry as to why he had to leave his fun in the palace to go meet a random King who was old and would have nothing to talk about with Y/N. Y/N figured that he would just offer some items that were made by the Escrowian Empire that were sure to pave the way for a trade deal. Y/N was even more frustrated that his father had sent him in his stead.

Little did Y/N know, King Jeno was nothing like what he imagined.

The envoy arrived after a long, treacherous journey that saw many bumpy roads, many forests, and many plains. Y/N was more exhausted than he could describe, and he was everything but jumping for joy when he saw the palace of Travania.

Y/N treaded gracefully, in awe of what he was seeing. Sure, his familial palace in Escrow was large, but the Travanian royal family's estate was lavish in another sense of the word, with large fountains adorned with figures of greek worship. Garlands of roses adorned the edge of the roof of the main palace, which stood so grand Y/N had to turn to be able to see it all. The garden was artfully carved and decorated, with each bush and tree pruned in a most detailed fashion.

Y/N realized that the days-long journey to Travania was worth it from the view itself. Remembering almost as an aside that there was a meeting for which he had came, Y/N walked further to the main gate of the palace.

There, a tall figure stood awaiting him. As Y/N drew closer, he observed the elegant rhinestones embedded in the crown of bearer. He paid attention to each stretch in the royal garment, which stuck to each individual muscle on the man's built body. The biceps, large to the point that the seam was stretched, the pecs, which filled out the top, and the pants, fully conforming to the large thighs made Y/N realize he was in the presence of a man truly fit to be king.

"You must be Prince Y/N of Escrow, your highness. I am King Jeno of Travania. It is with great pleasure I welcome you to our empire and our summit this afternoon," the man spoke with a great smile, reflected in the expression of his eyes.

"Your highness, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance and to be the recipient of such great hospitality. Our nations are sure to grow closer relations from this monumental event," Y/N spoke eloquently while shaking the hand of the other man.

Jeno, not blind to the way Y/N had previously stared him up and down, understood the situation very well. As a show of diplomacy, Jeno transitioned the handshake into a bodily embrace common between royalty of different nations to show closeness. From the viewpoint of others, this was completely normal.

The reality of the embrace was known only by Jeno and Y/N, from the way Jeno reached underneath the cape of Y/N and fondled his buttocks in a way not visible to any. He continued kneading the large protrusions of the prince as he increased his pressure.

Y/N, still in shock from the abruptness and how suddenly these developments had occurred, refrained from any immediate movements and let out a small moan that he thought was only audible to him.

Jeno, however, had also heard the moan and understood that his actions were received well. Letting go of the younger, King Jeno continued, "My attendants will give you a tour of Travanian royal palace while I prepare for our summit. They will lead to the room of our summit after the tour, so you shan't worry, Prince Y/N."

"I stromgly appreciate thy kindness and will sincerely revel in the beauties of your artful palace, King Jeno." Y/N gracefully responded.

The attendants continued to show Y/N around the various areas of the palace, which included hanging gardens, exotic flora collections, the royal bathing chamber, the surrounding farms, and the servant quarters that seemed better than the prince's own bedroom. An hour had elapsed before the head attendant spoke, "King Jeno has finished prepared for your meeting. He awaits you inside these doors and has requested that you enter alone. It has been a pleasure giving you a tour, my liege."

Y/N gave a show of his appreciation and opened the grandiose doors that seemed like that of a bedchamber. He stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind him and expecting to see a large round table with artisan-crafted chairs. Instead, he was met with a large, silk sheet draped over a large mattress, lush purple velvet curtains, and most striking of all, King Jeno dressed in a red robe that unveiled his extremely muscular upper body, with a significant bulge in the clothing covering his private area.

"Ah, I see that you've arrived. We can start discussing matters of interest to us once you take a seat here, my prince," Jeno spoke lustfully.

Y/N, absolutely shocked, but being the honest man he was exclaimed,"Never have I seen such a meeting, but I am more than happy to take you up on your offer, my King."

Jeno looked pleased as Y/N sat down on the bed, embracing him the moment he did. Y/N felt the warmth of Jeno's muscular body on his own, while sensing great pressure from his large muscles in his upper body and his bulge that was separated from Y/N's only by cloth.

The king moved his lips closer to that of Y/N's, looking at his with concupiscent eyes that asked for permission. Y/N, without words, gave his approval by moving his face only slightly forward, to which Jeno responded by firmly crashing their lips together, pushing Y/N down onto the sheet, and rubbing his hands under Y/N's tunic.

Y/N reveled in the pleasure of Jeno's masterful techniques that mingled their tongues together with sounds that could only be interpreted as sinful. Their lips met again and again, with short breaks for air, only to be crashed together as violently as when they first met. Suckling sounds and shared strands of saliva spoke to the passion between the two men as their mouths melted in the pleasure of each other.

Jeno pulled away as Y/N motioned, "Hurry, my King, I feel urges and a steady heat rising in my body. Only you can help me."

With a sly smirk, Jeno replied,"Anything for my guest, my prince," while peeling off Y/N's clothes as he went in to resume their lip lock.

Moments later, a fully naked Y/N was below Jeno, still in his robe, with their legs intertwined and lips connected as the younger felt Jeno's arm around his back and his waist. The two continued making out and enjoying the pangs of pleasure released by the meeting between their lips.

"It's time to discuss the foundations for an alliance," Jeno joked while unbuckling the belt holding his robe on. Y/N looked with nothing but desire at Jeno's large pecs, his well-defined abs, his sculpted shoulders, and his large, perfect dick that was fit for a king. Jeno's cock stood proudly in front of Y/N, with veins and a deep red tip that Y/N wanted to break him. The sheer thickness of his cock made Y/N want to take Jeno forever, who would stretch Y/N and surely leave him crying for mercy.

Jeno understood the desires of the younger well, and not being able to control his own, Jeno flipped over Y/N onto his stomach.

Tapping his cock against Y/N's hole, Jeno heard moans of impatience as he began to slap the prince's hole with a thud that spoke to the weight of his penis. His eight inch cock was sure to break in Y/N quite nicely and leave him unable to live without Jeno forever. This experience would give Y/N such a pleasured pain it would unlock new levels of lust in his brain.

"I see you are well-prepared for this new connection between our nations," Jeno spoke as he observed wetness at the Y/N's opening, speaking volumes to the younger's insatiable appetite.

Jeno, unable to control himself any further, roughly plunged his cock into the deep, moist entrance of Y/N's ass, as the younger let out an audible yelp. The corners of his hole began to slightly bleed to accomdate the first-time stretch.

Overwhelmed from the sudden introduction of seven inches, the thickness of the pole inside him, the pain of his hole ripping slighlty, and the new feeling of being filled, Y/N let out large tears that stained the white sheet below him. Jeno, being the diplomat he was, moved his face closer to Y/N's, cooing at him before encapsulating his lips once again.

The pleasure of the kissing distracted Y/N as the radiating pain from his lower body retreated and only a feeling of fullness remained. Jeno experimented with a small thrust, resulting in an audible moan Jeno heard through their connected mouths. He proceeded to pummel his thick rod into Y/N at a faster pace, enjoying the squeals of the former virgin who felt a constant pressure on his prostate and inside all areas of his passage.

Jeno continued further with a rough animalistic pounding that elicited the arching of Prince Y/N's back and moved him back and forth across the bed with each powerful thrust.

The feeling of the all encapsulating walls of Y/N hugging and squeezing Jeno's cock was emphasized through the various groans the older let out. Y/N was addicted to the pleasure of having his walls filled and stretched out fully, as well as the warmth of the large veiny cock inside him that sent waves of pleasure each time Y/N's prostate was brushed by.

Jeno's thrusts grew more greedy as he became less gentle, eliciting almost musical moans from Y/N, that sounded like he was asking for more. HIs manhood stretched out Y/N's hole fully and gave him a good dicking down that showed a king's true power.

The hilt of Jeno's thick cock smacked Y/N's rim with indescribably pleasureful force that Y/N's eyes could do nothing but roll back. The thought of a large, muscular man, such as Jeno, pounding him with a large cock that fit inside him like a key and satisfied the itch of emptiness inside him that arose earlier in the day led Y/N to a seventh heaven he knew he would have to reach again and again.

"Enjoying my large cock squelching in your boyhole, my prince? Petite little princes like you are designed perfectly for taking a large kingly dick that is far too large for any woman. I'll have you bouncing on my cock and asking for mercy through your moans like this for as long as the two of us live. I'll pound you to the point that you become mine and only mine, my cock is what you'll need to live every single day," Jeno proudly whispered.

The wet sounds of Jeno's large cock infiltrating Y/N's passage, along with their skin slapping together, filled the room with auras of sin and desire.

"UHHH, YESSS, fuck me as rough as you can, your highness. I can't get enough of your large dick, my king, I'm so glad you decided to take me and make me yours, that is exactly what I deserve to be, your cocksleeve and whore," Y/N responded with nothing but pleasure filling his head.

The sounds of sex became more unholy as Jeno's large cock released pre-cum that further lubricated Y/N's walls and increased the squelching, making both more horny as Jeno continued to wreck Y/N's hole mercilessly.

Jeno's golf-ball sized testicles slapped Y/N hard with each thrust, reminding Y/N what a true man's dominance was and felt like inside a bratty boy like him. Y/N wanted nothing more than to succumb to and embrace the fact that he was being manhandled by a true man whom he could never compete with. All he wanted was to be done again and again by Jeno's large cock, be subservient to his desires, be creamed and de-masculinated, and to have his slutty whoreish bussy pummeled like it was asking to be.

Y/N's hole began to slowly comform to Jeno's cock and grow used to it as the thrusts increased, sticking to his massive dick and not letting go of each vein as he pulled out prior to each thrust. Y/N's hole was basically becoming like a real pussy that bulged outwards almost like a flower blooming and reflected each action of Jeno's merciless cock.

Jeno bulged Y/N's stomach with each thrust, rearranging his organs in the process and growing his desire to breed the prince with copious amounts of cum deposited in his hole. Jeno continued to ravage and do Y/N with the sheer girth of his cock that entered Y/N's asshole like a lock fitting in a key. Y/N's prostate was being abused greatly with each rubbing of Jeno's cock's veins against it, resulting in waves of pleasure clouding the minds of both.

Jeno lost control and felt his climax nearing as he pulled out to his glans and pushed over six inches back all in one go for his last thrust, that pushed Y/N over the edge and led to his orgasm while Jeno released multiple spurts of thick cum into Y/N's passage, as a sort of signature on the documentation of their alliance. Jeno continued to push his cock further inside Y/N's hole as each spurt hit Y/N's walls more forcefully, overstimulating the younger. Y/N tiny hole remained stretched well by Jeno's fat cock inside of him that the prince begged to let remain inside.

Jeno reveled in his training of the younger prince and being the one pound and cream his greedy boypussy for the first time, knowing that peace between the kingdoms was secured for all eternity.

"This is a meeting I'll never forget," Y/N sighed with satisfaction while staring at Jeno.

#kpop smut #smut fic #kpop x male reader #male reader #m/n #y/n #kpop x male reader smut #kpop muscle #sm town #sm entertainment #sm family #sm x male reader #lee jeno x male reader #lee jeno x male reader smut #lee jeno #jeno x male reader smut #nct dream x male reader #jeno x reader #nct jeno x male reader #jeno fic #doyoung x y/n #jeno x male reader #nct x male reader #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct jeno #nct dream

[fluentmoviequoter]

What I Didn't Know I Had

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader

Summary: You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, fluffy comfort and soft Tim at the end

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“I’ll catch up,” you tell Tim.

He nods once and tunes out Lucy as she walks beside him. The bullpen is crowded because of a busy day in Los Angeles, but you have something more important on your mind.

“Angela, can we talk?” you ask as you approach her desk.

“Of course,” she answers. “Is everything okay? Baby okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” You lay your hand over your not yet existent bump and smile. “I’m ready to tell Tim, but I want to surprise him with the pregnancy announcement. He’s not… conventional, right? So, I just wanted to ask if you had any ideas for how I can tell him, how I can make it special?”

“Not conventional is certainly a good description of Tim Bradford,” Angela agrees playfully. “Honestly, you know better than I do what he’d consider to be special. I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”

You nod and look over your shoulder toward Tim. He deserves a memorable announcement; it’s his first child and he’s going to be an amazing father, so you want to make sure he knows that.

“Blue and pink target practice,” Angela suggests. “Nothing like a gun range jump scare.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wade yells your name, and you thank Angela before you return to the crowd of police officers. He says your name again before he adds, “Bradford, Nolan, and Chen, we’ve got a domestic call off Wilshire. Take care of that and get back here. ACH!”

“Anything can happen,” Lucy murmurs. “But it’s never fun.”

“ACHBINF,” Nolan agrees.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks as he falls into step beside you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Love this time of year when we have to send two cops to a call and two cops to protect the others,” you reply.

“Hey, what’s it like being married?” Lucy asks as you enter the garage.

“Depends on the marriage,” Nolan answers. “Why? Are you getting married?”

“Not today,” Lucy answers. “Just curious.”

“Nolan’s right,” Tim agrees. “It depends on the marriage.”

“I love being married,” you tell her. “But it’s nothing to rush into.”

“I just want to meet someone,” Lucy groans. “And you guys are no help.”

“Yeah, I married my partner,” you say, winking at Tim.

“And Nolan’s divorced,” Tim points out.

“Okay!” you announce. “Before this gets worse and turns into a competition of who has or had the better marriage – because it’s me and Tim – we need to go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy agrees. “ACHBINF.”

Tim grunts as he slams the car door, and you smile. As long as that isn’t his response to your pregnancy announcement, you’re amused by his grumpiness.

“There’s nobody here,” Tim says as he looks through a dirty window.

“This is the address. They said they were watching the argument from across the street,” you explain. “So, it’s either a setup or a prank.”

“Bradford!” Nolan calls as he moves out of the yard. “There’s a black SUV moving slowly toward us.”

“Tell dispatch, and get through to Grey,” Tim demands. “Stay down.”

You move with Tim, staying low as you move toward the shop. The black SUV is several houses away, but it only rolls a foot or so before it stops for thirty seconds, then moves again.

“Option 3, someone’s trying to steal a stick shift and can’t drive it,” you joke.

“It’s never that easy,” Tim replies.

“ACHBINF?” you ask.

“Don’t,” Tim murmurs as he watches the car. “We need to make contact before they get close enough to do something.”

“I can go through yards and come up behind them.”

“No, we don’t know what the back looks like. Nolan, where are you and Chen?”

“Behind the shop,” Nolan answers. “On the other side of the street from you.”

“Stay in position,” Tim radios.

A shot fires somewhere nearby, but it echoes so you can’t tell where it originated from.

“The car’s a distraction,” you and Tim say together.

“Backup is two minutes out,” Lucy calls over the radio. “We don’t have time!”

“I’m shooting at the SUV,” Tim tells you. “Cover me.”

You trade places with Tim and press your back to the shop as you cover him. Before you can alert Tim of movement beside the house you were called to, someone fires again. You feel the sting of the bullet against your vest but rise to your knees and return fire. Tim notices your movement and lowers beside you. When the shooter drops his gun and tips back, Tim rushes to him as Lucy and Nolan run to stop the black SUV. You lean back against the shop and run your hand over your uniform. It’s tinted red with blood when you pull it back, and you gently press your fingers against your side. The bullet missed your vest by less than an inch, and your first thought is that the bullet may have gone in sideways.

“No, no, no,” you whisper as you press your hands to your lower stomach.

With the pressure, your bleeding increases with nothing to stop it. Tim rounds the corner of the house with the shooter in handcuffs but pushes him to the ground when he sees you. You’re losing blood quickly, and Tim sees your hands in the wrong place, which immediately concerns him. If you didn’t tell him you were shot and are causing it to bleed more, you must be in shock or hemorrhaging.

“Nolan, get over here!” Tim radios.

He kneels beside you and presses his hands to your side as you try to force a hand under your vest.

“Get me an ambulance!” Tim demands. “Officer down!”

“Tim, I’m pregnant,” you blurt out. “You have to make sure the baby is okay.”

Tim shakes his head and tells you to stay calm. Nolan loads the shooter into the back of his shop and tells Tim the ambulance is approaching.

“Promise you’ll make sure the baby’s okay,” you repeat.

She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Tim thinks. That thought only increases his worry because you’re losing blood and not making any sense.

“What happened?” the paramedic asks as he approaches your side.

“GSW to her side,” Tim replies.

Your eyes flutter closed as they wrap your side, and you don’t mention ‘the baby’ again. Tim asks the paramedic which hospital you are going to and follows your ambulance in his shop. As he drives, he wonders where the “I’m pregnant” announcement came from. It’s something he wants but hearing it because you were losing blood causes his hands to shake. He reminds himself to focus and control his emotions as he parks and runs into the emergency room entrance.

“Office Bradford?” a doctor asks.

“Yes, sir,” Tim responds as he stands. “How is she?”

“She’s perfectly fine. The bullet was through and through with very little tissue damage, so we cleaned and stitched the wound, and she’ll be free to go after some observation. And the baby is perfectly safe as well, Officer.”

“Baby?” Tim repeats. “She’s pregnant?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Yes, sir, she’s about seven weeks pregnant. You can go in if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

The short walk to your room feels like a marathon, and Tim’s mind races with each step. You should have told Tim; you have a dangerous job, and he needs to know. Tim takes a deep breath before he opens the door and steps into your room.

“You really meant that,” he says.

You look up and tug your bottom lip between your teeth before you release it to speak. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you, and I was going to do it later today, but… you know.”

“You have to tell me this stuff,” Tim says gently. “I didn’t know. And I- if something had happened, I wouldn’t have known. I’m supposed to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Surprise?”

Tim rolls his eyes as he takes your hand. He lays your joined hands over your stomach, avoiding your stitches.

“I was terrified,” you whisper. “There wasn’t a way to tell where it went, and if I’d lost-“

Tim shushes you gently and sits on the edge of your bed. He moves a hand to your jaw and brushes his thumb over your cheek.

“I get it. The doctor told me the baby was fine, and it suddenly crashed down on me. That fear that I could’ve lost something I didn’t know I had hit me, even after I knew you were both okay.”

You nod and turn your chin. Tim kisses you softly, and you whisper another apology against his lips.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“A hug, mostly,” you say lightly.

“I was hoping you’d say you were ready to get out of here.”

“Oh, we’re both very ready to get out of here,” you agree.

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch after you arrive home, and you twirl your wedding ring around your finger. He returns a moment later, and when you pull your knees up to give him room to sit beside you, he huffs. Carefully, he lifts your ankles and lays your legs back in your original, comfortable position. Tim lays with you rather than sitting beside you, and you happily turn into his arm. He drags his fingertips along your spine, over your shoulders, and back down. His other hand lays against your side, and he drops his hand to where your baby is growing.

“You’re getting soft,” you murmur.

“Just for you two. And we both need this,” he replies.

“I have an appointment next week, and I want you to be there.”

“I’ll be right here,” he promises. “Can’t trust you to tell me anything important,” he jokes.

You try to push him away, but Tim grabs your wrists and carefully pulls you with him as he rolls. He barely manages to catch both himself and you as he nearly falls off the couch.

“Surprise?” he asks, repeating your earlier comment.

He kisses you before you can say anything else, and when his hands wander to your stomach, you know that you were right about what a great father he will be.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie abc #the rookie x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

[bluesidez]

HEY POOKS. Could you write a DBF!Miguel x dancer!reader. He just loves to watch her dance in competitions and recitals and helps her practice her routine by counting out 8’s for her <333

( maybe he can give reader a reward for doing so well but idk 🤭 )

[Rehearsal]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant (Hi @snails-doodles22) 🩻

summary: Miguel keeps you grounded as you prepare for a dance competition. 

content warning: age gap (abeg she’s 21+), secret relationship, fluff, like two suggestive?? lowkey explicit scenes so MINORS BEWARE, a few thoughts of frustration/failure but nothing serious just the thoughts of an artist

word count: 1.9k, halfway proofread

a/n: Hi hi!! This one was really a challenge for me!! and Idk if I’ll write DBF again ngl Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! I leaned more on the age gap aspect of the relationship and pulled from how I felt when practicing for my own recitals/competitions 🤠! (I get extremely snappy and mean lol)

A Grand Adage (as best as I, not a professional ballerina but I practiced for 3 years, can explain) is a slower dance move where you stretch your leg to the front, side, and back without losing your balance. You also have to switch legs…I think. It looks like it takes a LOT of core strength, especially without a partner.

I don’t think I mention it in the story, but I’m imagining this Miguel to have salt and pepper hair, but like, in its early stages. So only a few strands of gray. 

“Damn it.”

The music started to sound more and more jaded as you failed another Grand Adage after powering through the more fast-paced part of your routine. 

You don’t know why you had the bright idea to add the most pain-inducing ballet moves to your contemporary piece, but you were starting to hate yourself for it. It was supposed to represent a crash and burn of rushing perfection which was ironic because you were feeling those emotions tenfold.

“You’re not going to get it if you keep trying to force it like that.” You heard Miguel from across the room and the music finally stopped. “It’s a pause between those last two counts. You know this, chiquita.”

You huffed out a chuckle as you got up, “Knowing and doing are two different things. I know what’s coming, which is why I keep anticipating it and messing it up.”

“The studio is all yours for a few more hours,” Miguel sighed. “Take a breath and try it again.”

“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re not the one busting your ass,” you mumbled as you got back into your starting position. 

Miguel crossed his arms, head leaning on the wall above the barre, “You want to say that again?”

You dropped your arms and stared at him, face blank. 

After a minute or so of you going silent, he unfolded his arms and beckoned you towards him. 

You dragged your feet to get to him, hands hugging yourself. 

“I know you want this to be perfect, but snapping at me isn’t going to help that.” His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, rubbing up and down the tightened muscles. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” you rubbed your eyes with your palms. “The competition is so soon and I keep fucking the routine up.”

“And you’ve also done it perfectly countless other times. You’ve got this! I know you do. I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into dancing and that’s not going to change.”

“But Miguel-”

“But nothing. I’ve seen how you become a new person on the stage. You demand the attention of your audience in a way that your peers can’t. You’re captivating and alluring so I’m not going to sit here and let you think otherwise.”

You look at him with a face that says “I know you’re right, but I don’t want you to be,” and just fall onto his lap, wallowing in his arms while you breathe in his cologne. 

He nuzzled you on the head, hands patting at your ass, hands warm and firm through your tights, “Now can you try again for me?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you say, lips rivaling a rubber duckie. 

He chuckles at you but obliges, heart too soft when it comes to you. 

You get up with new ambition, taking a deep breath as you stride back to the middle of the room. 

“I’m going to count out loud for you this time, is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you reply, arms molding into a sharp form. 

When the music starts this time, you hone in on Miguel’s voice, taking leaps and turns with his timbre. Your heart thumps all the same, but your brain isn’t as loud. 

As the Grand Adage comes again, Miguel’s voice stays calm, never wavering. You tighten your core and lift your leg high, hands framed beautifully and foot pointed sharp as you hold your arms above your head. As you bring your leg back down to begin to turn, your heart almost stops when your body remains stable and strong. You can’t believe it but try to keep the piece's emotion steady. 

You switch legs without trouble, eyes catching Miguel watching your form in the mirror. His face is serious but you can’t hear that in his voice, making you feel fuzzy. You keep up the pace, repeating the same move but gearing up to do an Illusion.

Like a flash, you bring your leg down and bend your body, foot spinning swiftly to perform the trick. Your heartbeat is roaring in your ears as you move through the rest of the routine, mind too excited from your success to completely portray the ending emotions of dance. 

Once you finish, you’re quick to get out of your position, face lit up as you turn to Miguel. When you run to him, you’re screaming with glee. He only stumbles a bit when you jump in his arms, body wrapped around him like a koala. 

“Miguel! Did’ya see it? Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” you laughed as he spun you around.

“I told you you could do it, amor. You just needed to get out of your head.”

“Ok ok, three more times and I think I’ll be ready to leave.”

“Well let’s get busy, chiquita. We’ve got work to do.”

You run through the routine again and again, becoming more confident each time. After every successful routine, Miguel’s praises get more and more loving. First a deep hug, then a few pecks to the lips, then a makeout session that has you squirming for more. 

“Is your dad picking you up today?” he said, lips on your neck.

You turn your nose up at the mention of him, “No, I took the bus.”

“Could have asked me to drop you off.”

“You were at work, Miggy. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother,” he stopped to move his forehead to yours. “You can come over tonight. You need to relax after all of this hard work.”

“And what do I tell my dad when he asks where I am?” your eyes pan from his eyes to his lips, fingers reaching up to go through his hair. 

“Tell him you’re at a girlfriend’s house.”

You twist your mouth to the side, pretending to think.

“How are you planning to relax me?”

“A hot bath.”

You snickered, knowing better than to believe that was all he was planning to do, but taking his word for it. 

Hours later when you were laid on your back, hands gripping the sheets below you and Miguel holding your legs up as he stroked deep inside, your suspicions were confirmed. Your skin was soft from the bath and your muscles were like jelly after he spent an hour massaging every tight muscle out of you. The room was full of him, his smell surrounding you, and the noises of him attending to your every need. With every cry of his name, he brought you closer to the horizon. 

On the day of your competition, you didn’t even look at Miguel before you went on, nerves too bad. If he gave you a pep talk, internally, you would be appreciative, but externally, you might tell him to leave you the fuck alone. 

Knowing how you get, he supported you in the best way he could by sending you messages and a light breakfast in the morning. 

“Break a leg, chiquita”

“Not literally of course”

“I’ll be waiting for you once it’s over”

“With a surprise :)”

It was enough to fill you with anticipation, ready to give it all on the floor.

Once your number was called, you went to the center and got into position. The crowd was dark enough to feel like it was just you in the room, but your heart knew otherwise with how fast it was beating. 

When the music starts, it’s like Miguel’s voice is a soundtrack playing through your memory. You can’t see him, but you can feel him in the crowd cheering you on. Your feet move across the floor, body tightening and relaxing when needed. Your face wears a frustrated expression, portraying the sentiment of everything falling out of control. Your leaps and turns come one after another moving your form across the stage. 

The Grand Adage comes to you like lightning, you don’t even notice you’re doing it until it happens. The muscle memory takes over and you transition to the Illusion like it's nothing. Your mind wanders as you go through to the end of the routine, finishing strongly with your pose on the floor.

The cheers of the audience are what bring you back to reality. A feeling of relief washes over you as you stand and bow, smiling brightly. 

Standing with the other dancers from your category, you don’t expect the judges to call your name for first place, so when they all turn to look at you, you feel like you might have walked out in your underwear by accident. 

It isn’t until you’re handed a bouquet of flowers and a trophy that it dawns on you that your hard work has paid off. The check was no measly amount of money either. 

Looking out to the crowd, you can see Miguel standing up with his hands cupped over his mouth as he yells. Your family is standing next to him cheering as well. You wave at them, jumping up and down in excitement. Only you can see the wink Miguel gives you. 

When you meet them out in the lobby, you have to stop yourself from keeping your attention on Miguel. 

“You did amazing, honey,” your dad says, squeezing the life out of you. “That flip thing? I don’t know how you did it, but wow!”

“It’s called an Illusion,” Miguel shakes his head. “Keep up.”

“What are you, her coach or something?”

“C’mon you guys,” your mom fusses. “Don’t start bickering in the building. At least wait until we get dinner.”

“‘M gonna ride with Miguel,” you say to them. 

Knowing how much you like his car, your parents think nothing of it and walk out to their own car. 

Once they’re out the door, he turns and gives you a deep kiss, “You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”

“I just remembered what you said. Kept it in the back of my mind while I performed.”

He smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist, “Yeah?”

You nod and bring his lips to yours again. 

“Where’s my surprise?”

“Always so impatient.”

“You wouldn’t like me any other way.”

“Tienes rázon,” Miguel chuckled. 

Miguel brings a sparkly gift bag to your attention, placing it in your hands. You reach into the bag, tissue paper falling to the floor. You pull out an envelope and a long velvet box. 

You open the box, eyes glittering when you see the necklace inside. 

“Miguel, this is adorable!” 

“Here,” he takes the necklace out of the box. “Let me help you put it on.”

You turn and focus your attention on the envelope, fingers sliding under the sealed flap. 

Your breath halts when you pull the tickets out.

“To Paris?”

You turn to him once your necklace is latched together, eyes teary from happiness.

“You’ve been doing so amazing, I wanted to treat you to an amazing trip.”

“How much did this cost?”

“Nothing that you should worry your head about.”

You crowd his space, kissing his face all over, “Thank you so much, Miguel.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

“I don’t want to go out to dinner now,” you sigh dramatically.

“Yeah? You know we can’t bail, though.”

“Not even if I give my thanks to you in the car?”

Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, watching you grin at him. He’s really way too soft when it comes to you. 

“Vamos.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

#to the lab testers 🩻 #love lab drabbles 💊 #dbf!Miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv x reader #miguel ohara #astv miguel #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction

[lilacsbeeswax]

Could i request a story where Lorenzo and reader are siblings? And the slytherin boys are also like brothers to her. Except Theodore because he and reader are dating.

But like forgot that they had a date that evening and reader stood in the cold at hogsmead for almost 2 hours and came back to thr common room crying and Loreza askes her whats wrong and she tells him??

You can continue the stoie from here :))

Pairing: Enzo x sister!reader - Theo x reader

Notes: Gotta love 2 months of not posting 💀

Masterlist

——-

Hours. It has been hours since the time Theodore had told me he would arrive. Two to be exact, sitting on a cold bench waiting for him to come and say all the right things as usual.

It’s the dead of winter yet I can’t bring myself to leave. My fingertips turned numb a while ago and my nose had begun to run.

How could he forget? Am I that disposable to him? Am I not worth the effort? The thought alone caused hot tears to roll down my cheeks. The insecure questions kept racing back and forth through my mind. My breathing sped up and my brain felt as though it was rattling around my skull.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” I repeated, hugging my arms around my chest to self-soothe. It calms me enough to pull myself to my feet. Shakily breathing and still sobbing, I walk my sorry self all the way back to Hogwarts. Taking the most abandoned route I knew.

——-

By the time I made it into the Slytherin common room, I had hoped I’d be calmer, but tears still poured from my eyes regardless. I rushed through hoping to make it to my dorm without being seen by one of the boys.

I knew my plan had failed when I heard my brother’s voice calling me. When I didn’t stop he rushed over and stood in front of me.

“Y/n, why are you crying? What happened?” He asked.

I looked around the common room that was teeming with people before responding, “It’s nothing, Enzo.”

I tried to squeeze past him, but he blocked me. “It’s definitely not nothing.”

“Look, if we’re gonna talk about this can it be somewhere more private?” Tears continued to glide down my face. There was a massive pit in my stomach and I thought I might’ve thrown up.

Enzo led me up to my dorm and sat next to me on my bed. He wrapped his arm around and shoulder and squeezed me. “Now can we talk?” He asked.

My voice shook as I explained Theo not showing up to our date. I rambled until I ran out of tears, Enzo just sat there listening.

When I was done he hugged me closer and kissed the top of my head. He released me and announced, “I’m gonna go give Theodore a little visit.”

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked, standing and blocking Enzo’s exit.

“I know exactly where that nitwit is, come on.” He said, shoving me gently out of the way and rushing out the door. I scrambled to keep up as he half ran to their shared dorm.

Enzo sighed as he unlocked the door to reveal Theo passed out on his bed. Relief flooded through my chest, he hadn’t maliciously missed our date, he was just dead asleep. Annoyance replaced my sadness, as Enzo stepped aside and let me walk in closing the door behind me.

I gently sat on Theo’s bed before aggressively shaking him. He shot up with a gasp. “Good afternoon, jackass.” I smiled.

He rubbed the sleep from is eyes and half groaned, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I’ll give you a little refresher; you and me at Hogsmeade about 2 and a half hours ago.”

He sat still for a moment, before his eyes widened. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry Y/n!”

“You better be I stood outside in the cold for almost 2 hours waiting for you!”

“This isn’t an excuse, but I had fallen back asleep after quidditch. I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry, amore mio.” He stood up and walked to me, grabbing my face and cradling it gently. “I would never purposefully stand you up.”

“I know. It made me really sad when you didn’t show up though.”

“And I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I love you, principessa.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into a hug and a kiss.

“I love you too, idiot.”

——-

Masterlist

#fluff #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire

[razorblade180]

9 days of Lancaster Day 5: Hidden Relationship

Ruby:*washing plates*

Jaune:*dirty* Hey there stranger. Hard at work I see.

Ruby:I lost a bet with Nora and this is my punishment. What’s with the smudges?

Jaune:Yang wanted to help me “improve my combat abilities.”

Ruby:Ooof, I’m sorry.

Jaune:I’m not immediately sore like last time so that’s something.

Ruby grabs a glass and fills it with water for him.

Jaune:Awww, my heart. *grabs it*

Ruby:Hush you goober. I know Yang’s training all too well. I’m surprised you’re walking.

Jaune:Well y’know, recently I’ve been getting in good stamina training.

Ruby:*red*…Is that so? Hadn’t noticed. My training is always pretty vigorous.

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed. Guess I still have a long way to go. Although…I’m sure you’d have a little more trouble with my “training”

Ruby:Pfft, oh really? I think I’m pretty fit in case you haven’t noticed!

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed.

Ruby:…..*flicks water on him*

Jaune:Ah!

Ruby:I couldn’t think of a comeback. You’re filthy anyways. I’m just washing you up a bit.

Jaune:If that’s the case…I think there’s a smudge around my chin I can’t quite get off.

Ruby didn’t know if it was herself, Nora, or Yang that has influenced Jaune, but it was a diabolical blessing. The young knight approached her innocently with a smile. Ruby double checked their surroundings then preceded to gently rub her thumb across his chin. Of course, Jaune took the opportunity to pull her in by her lower back. Ruby gladly became ensnared in his trap, going as far to stand up on her toes and give a sweet, mischievous kiss.

The two of them giggled as they continued peppered each other with growing affection. If only more of these moments could come by frequently. Unfortunately, privacy is hard in a group of nine, and the both of them wished to revel in this growing relationship away from others. Not forever of course, but long enough to make it feel personal and intimate. Although if the others knew, they’d probably tell them intimacy is far from a problem.

Ruby felt her body hold him closer as their kiss became…less innocent. Jaune was seconds away from putting her on the countertop when the click of a doorknob snapped them back to reality. An instant petal burst brought Ruby back to washing dishes while Jaune focused on his water as Yang walked in.

Yang:Hey party people! Ruby, you should’ve seen Jaune during our match. Gotta admit, he’s getting some moves. Almost pinned me a few times.

Ruby:Wow, that’s high praise. Practice must be paying off.

Jaune:*refilling water*

Yang:Someone’s thirsty.

Ruby:Pfft, I’ll say. He’s all red too.

Jaune:W-What can I say? Things got pretty heated, literally.

Ruby:Please don’t singe him. We can’t explain that to Nora.

Yang:He will be fine. All he needs is a little rest and a well deserved bath. Also isn’t Nora supposed to be on dish duty?

Ruby:I lost a bet, which sucks because I wanted to look around Mistral a bit.

Yang:I’ll take over for ya. You suck at drying anyways.

Ruby:Hey!

Yang:I’m gonna put my things away first. Jaune, hit the showers. You smell like smoke. *walks off*

Jaune:Gee, I wonder why!

He waves goodbye at Ruby and heads to the bathroom. Honestly it was a miracle he didn’t singe anything. As he walked in a closed the door, a sudden gust went by him. Jaune turned around and was greeted with a swift hand over his mouth from Ruby while the other quickly locked the door behind him. She slowly moved her hand and smiled.

Ruby: I lied about Mistral

Jaune: You are gonna get me killed.

Ruby tried not to laugh. She ran the sink and turned on the bath for more noise.

Ruby:Gotta make opportunities where you can. Besides…*red* You got me a little riled up.

Jaune:I mean…fair but- my life.

Ruby:You’ll be fine. I’ll sneak out after I learn about this so called “training” so let’s just focus on us. I can also help you wash up, like any good partner would do. Unless… you don’t want to?

She didn’t even let him respond before taking off her cap and sitting on the sink counter with a wide grin. Ruby held her arms out, inviting him. Despite his protests, Jaune easily walked into the embrace and found his hands back where they were before they were interrupted.

Jaune:Prepare for your workout.

Ruby:Hehe, lead on. I’m happily in your care~

#rwby #9 days of lancaster #rwby lancaster #ruby rose #9 days of lancaster 2024 #jaune arc #yang xiao long

[xxspringmelodyxx]

That Girl’s a Liar~

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

This is gonna have many chapters, so enjoy the ride, my lovelies!

“I’ve got a test to study for that I don’t feel ready for at all,” I told Kento as we walked down the crowded school hallway. The blond-haired man shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in clear frustration, a gesture I had seen many times before when he was trying to make a point.

“I told you to stop hanging around those three. They keep distracting you from your schoolwork, which is why you’re always left in a frantic state like this,” he lectured, his voice taking on that familiar stern tone that always made me feel like a child being scolded. His words made me pout, feeling both guilty and defensive.

“Can you stop acting like my dad and actually help me? You’re supposed to encourage me and say I’ll do great!” I protested, my frustration growing. I had hoped for a little bit of sympathy, or at least some encouragement, instead of another lecture.

“That would be lying,” he replied bluntly, his honesty cutting through my hopes like a knife through butter.

“You’re so mean,” I retorted, pulling out my phone in a desperate attempt to find any cheat sheets that might help me cram for the test. It felt like a futile effort, but I didn’t know what else to do.

“And you’re an idiot for ignoring my warnings. I told you hanging out with those three, especially Satoru, would cause you nothing but trouble,” he continued, his tone a mix of exasperation and genuine concern.

“Oh, buzz off, Ken. They’ve done nothing wrong. Besides, we’ve been such close friends since I first joined this school. I can’t just ignore them,” I said defensively,

Kento sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “Well, perhaps I can help—” he started, but was rudely interrupted when a pair of strong hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground with surprising ease.

“Ah! Toru, let me go this instant! Ken and I were talking!” I yelled, struggling against the special grade sorcerer’s grip. Satoru turned around to see Kento and gave him a cheeky wave, his usual mischievous grin firmly in place.

“Hey buddy! You don’t mind if I take her, do you? I’m sure it would save you the hassle!” Satoru teased, his voice dripping with playful mischief. His eyes sparkled with that characteristic glint that always meant trouble was brewing.

“Hassle?! What do you mean by that?” I asked, raising my voice in disbelief at his audacity. I shot a desperate look at Kento, silently begging him to rescue me from this situation. Kento, my steady rock, my good old friend, had to see how much I needed his help. But instead, a small smile crossed his lips as he looked towards Satoru, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“She’s all yours,” Kento replied, turning on his heels and walking away without a second thought, his casual dismissal leaving me stunned.

“W-What? Ken! You can’t just leave me here with him!” I yelled after him, feeling a mix of betrayal and frustration as Satoru began to drag me away. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as I tried to pull free, my pleas echoing off the walls.

“Hey, there’s no need to be mean, N/N. Besides, you should be honored being held in my arms like this,” Satoru said, his grip tightening slightly as he hugged me closer, his voice full of exaggerated affection.

“Toru! Now is not the time to goof off! I’m in serious trouble here!” I exclaimed, my voice tinged with panic. Hearing the urgency in my tone, Satoru loosened his grip and looked at me with a hint of concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice a little more serious this time, which was a rare occurrence for him.

I looked up at him and sighed deeply. “I have an exam in three days, and I have no idea what’s going on in that class. I tried to talk to Kento to see if he could somehow help me, but you took me away before I could ask him,” I explained, feeling the weight of my academic worries pressing down on me.

Satoru’s expression shifted slightly as you spoke. There was a strange look in his eyes—hurt. Why didn’t you ask him for help instead of Kento? After all, he was Satoru Gojo, the man who excelled at everything he did. He quickly masked his emotions, putting on his usual confident facade, and wrapped his arm around me.

“Oh come on, you don’t need him! You have me! Let me help you!” he offered, his voice full of enthusiasm.

I rolled my eyes at his typical bravado. “Yeah, right. Like you’d actually be helpful,” I muttered, though a small part of me was curious about what he had in mind.

“You wouldn’t be able to focus. You don’t take things seriously,” I said, making him place his hands on his heart dramatically as if I had deeply wounded him.

“Oh, you wound me! How could you think I, Satoru Gojo, don’t take anything seriously?” he exclaimed, pretending to be deeply hurt. His theatrics were both endearing and infuriating.

“Well, for instance, what you’re doing right now is a great example of what I just said,” I replied, turning around to go find Kento. He quickly stopped his acting and grabbed my hand, making me tense up a bit from the unexpected contact.

“Wait, I’m sorry. I know you’re actually being serious about this, and I was too… just maybe not showing it too well. I can help you. Let me help you,” he said in a more sincere tone this time. His eyes softened, and for once, he seemed genuinely earnest.

I turned around to see him really close to me, our hands still intertwined. The closeness made my heart skip a beat. Satoru noticed it as well and quickly let go, giving me some space.

“Uh… sorry,” he said, trying to calm down his nerves and the butterflies that were fluttering wildly in his stomach. His vulnerability was a rare sight, and it made me pause. Seeing this side of him, so different from his usual confident self, made me realize how much he genuinely cared.

“Okay,” I replied, making him look down at me in surprise.

“W-what?” he stammered, clearly not expecting my agreement.

“I agree with you helping me out,” I said, making the atmosphere return to normal. A smile spread across Satoru’s face as he heard those words. Just as he was about to celebrate, I put a finger up, catching his attention.

“But, you have to promise me you won’t get distracted and that you’ll take things seriously,” I told him, making him place his hands up in defense.

“Okay, you have my word. No goofing around, just strict business,” he said, nodding earnestly.

“Good. And if you do happen to break that promise—” I started, my tone firm.

“Which I won’t,” he interjected quickly, his eyes wide with determination.

“Then I won’t make you my world-famous kikufuku for a whole month!” I declared, making his eyes widen in shock.

“What?! A whole month! N/N, that’s not—” he began to protest, his voice rising in panic.

“Ah, ah, ah. Agree to it, or I’m going to go find Kento. It’s the only way I can make sure you don’t play around. I need as much help as I can get, especially in just three days,” I said, making him pout and kick the ground in frustration.

“Fine, I agree,” he said with a saddened tone, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

I clasped my hands together happily. “Great! Now that that’s settled, you wanna go grab something to eat before we begin studying?” I asked, making him perk up at the suggestion.

”Yes!” He said, grabbing you once more and putting you over his shoulder.

”Eh! Toru, stop just picking me up whenever you feel like it! Let me down!” You yelled, trying to wriggle out of his gasp, but he just held you tighter.

”No can do, Y/n. I know of this really great place to eat at. We can eat and study there at the same time! And we’ve got no time to waste!” He said, walking towards a small cafe.

*****

Hours had passed since Satoru and I had arrived at the cozy little café, and here we were, still tucked away in a quiet corner. However, the stress that had been gnawing at me earlier had faded considerably. The café’s delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods, combined with its soothing background music, created a relaxing ambiance that helped calm my nerves. Savoring a light meal didn’t hurt either. To my surprise, Satoru turned out to be an excellent tutor. It was amazing how much I had learned in such a short amount of time, all thanks to him.

“And so, what do you call this structure?” Satoru asked, drawing out a hexagonal structure with a circle inside of it on a piece of paper.

“That’s just benzene, right?” I responded, trying to recall the details from our study session.

“Exactly! Honestly, I don’t know what you were so worried about, Y/N. You caught onto this stuff really quickly. You’re almost as smart as me,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

I playfully glared at him, rolling my eyes at his usual boastful tone. “Almost as smart as you? I’m pretty sure I’m just as smart as you.” I replied with a smirk.

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves~” He teased.

“I’m just saying, you’ve got a good grasp on this material. You’ll ace that exam, no problem,” he assured me, his confidence in my abilities boosting my own.

“Thanks, Toru. I really appreciate your help,” I said sincerely, meeting his eyes. “I was really freaking out about this exam.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Besides, I like spending time with you,” he admitted, his tone turning softer. “Even if it means going over boring chemistry stuff.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me as he said those words. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. “You know, this whole studying thing isn’t too bad. Maybe we should make this a regular thing. Study dates,” he suggested, winking.

My face heated up slightly at the term “study dates.” “Dates, huh? You’re getting ahead of yourself, Satoru.”

He chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Study sessions then.”

I smiled at him, trying to ignore the tingly sensation I felt just from talking to him.

“But seriously, y/n… you should give yourself more credit. You’re smarter than you think.”

I sighed, feeling a bit more at ease. “I guess I just doubt myself sometimes. It’s hard not to when you’re surrounded by people who seem to have it all figured out.”

Satoru’s expression softened, “Hey, everyone has their moments of doubt. Even me. But you’ve got to trust yourself. You’re capable of more than you know.”

His words resonated with me, and I nodded. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Toru.”

He reached across the table and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. Now, let’s go over that last section again, just to make sure you’ve got it down.”

As we continued to review the material, I felt a newfound sense of confidence. With Satoru by my side, I felt like I could tackle anything. And maybe, just maybe, this test wouldn’t be so daunting after all.

*****

The day of the exam had passed, and I was met with great news. Excitement bubbled inside me as I hurried to find Satoru to share the good news. I spotted him walking with Suguru and Shoko down the hallway. Quickening my pace to catch up with them, I finally caught their attention.

"Hey girl~" Shoko greeted, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

"Hey Shoko! You’ll never believe what I got on my exam," I said, a wide smile plastered on my face.

"Did you do good? Please tell me you did good, or else I’m gonna feel horrible for teaching you," Satoru said, his playful tone mixed with a hint of genuine concern.

I chuckled at his worried expression. "Well then, you’ll be happy to know that I got a 97 out of 100!" I announced, beaming with pride.

Satoru’s face lit up with a huge smile. "Oh thank goodness. I was starting to think my teaching skills were horrible."

"Not at all, Satoru. In fact, you’d be a pretty damn good teacher if you ever consider it," I reassured him, his smile growing wider at my compliment.

"Well, I think this calls for a celebration after school! What do you all say?" Shoko suggested with a gleam in her eye.

"You just want a reason to go out today and smoke, don’t you?" Suguru teased, raising an eyebrow at her.

Shoko shrugged nonchalantly. "My reasons are my own, my friend," she said, grabbing my hand. "Come on, we have to get to class before Sensei Yaga gets there," she added, pulling me along with her.

As we walked, I glanced back at Satoru, who gave me a thumbs up and a wink. The weight of the exam lifted off my shoulders, replaced with a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. With friends like these, even the toughest challenges seemed conquerable.

"I’m really proud of you," Satoru called out as we moved ahead.

"Thanks, Toru. I couldn’t have done it without you," I replied, feeling a warmth spread through me.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff. Let’s get to class before we get in trouble," Shoko interjected, her tone light and teasing.

We hurried down the hall, talking amongst ourselves about random things in the world. Although Suguru decided now would be a good time to push the limits just a bit, especially with knowing how his best friend truly feels about you.

He turned towards Toru with a shit-eating grin on his face. "You helped her, huh?" he teased, his tone dripping with playful mischief, making his face start to turn red.

"Shut up, Suguru. She just needed a little help with her school work, nothing else," Satoru interjected defensively, shooting a warning glance at his friend.

"Mhmm. So you mean to tell me that—" Suguru began, but I quickly cut him off, not wanting him to tease Satoru any further.

"Hey, it's not like that," I chimed in, trying to diffuse the situation. "Satoru was just being a good friend and helping me out. There's nothing more to it." I said softly with a smile on my face, though the thought of it did make my heart race.

Suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say," he replied, his grin widening.

"Seriously, Suguru, drop it," Satoru insisted, his tone firm as he shot another warning look at his friend.

Suguru chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll let it go... for now," he teased, winking at me before turning to walk away.

I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Suguru had dropped the subject. Glancing at Satoru, I offered him a reassuring smile.

*****

As Sensei Yaga began the lesson, all four of us sat at our desks, bored out of our minds. Today's topic promised to be engaging, but we will see if that’s really the case. However, the atmosphere shifted when Sensei Yaga announced a special guest who would be joining the class for the day.

"Good morning, class," Sensei Yaga began, his voice resonating in the room. "Before we delve into today's lesson, I have the pleasure of introducing a new student. Please welcome Aksana."

The door opened, and Aksana entered the room with a confident stride. Her presence commanded attention, and she scanned the room with a subtle air of superiority. As she made her way to an empty seat, her gaze lingered momentarily on Satoru before moving on.

Satoru, ever the charmer, offered her a friendly nod as she took her seat. They had crossed paths before, just briefly, but Aksana seemed to remember him well. She had heard about him—his power, his popularity—and she saw an opportunity.

Throughout the lesson, Aksana's presence was palpable. She participated eagerly, her insights sharp and perceptive. But it wasn't just her academic prowess that caught attention—it was the way she seemed to gravitate towards Satoru, engaging him in conversation whenever she could.

As the lesson progressed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Aksana's attention seemed fixated on Satoru, her eyes lingering on him a little too long, her smiles a little too calculated. It was as if she was trying to assert her dominance over him, to stake a claim.

After the lesson ended, Aksana approached Satoru with a charming smile. "Hey, Toru," she greeted, her voice smooth as silk. For some reason, it irked me when she called him that as well. They barely knew each other and she’s already treating him like they’re best friends. "I couldn't help but notice your insightful contributions during the lesson. You must be quite knowledgeable in this subject."

Satoru, always polite, returned her smile with one of his own. "Thanks, I try to keep up with the material," he replied casually.

Aksana's smile widened, and she leaned in a bit closer. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining me for coffee sometime. I'd love to pick your brain a bit more about the subject."

”Well actually-“ He started, but was cut off by her wrapping her arm around his.

”Great! There’s actually a little cafe near by that I saw and I have been dying to go there!” She interrupted, not giving him a chance to deny her offer

As they walked away together, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Despite Aksana's obvious interest in Satoru, he remained polite but distant. Yet, the thought of him spending time alone with her still made me uneasy. Suguru, Shoko, and I exchanged glances, each of us wearing expressions of confusion. Shoko's gaze met mine, and she must have seen the worry etched on my face. With a gentle touch, she placed her hand on my shoulder, offering silent reassurance. Of the three, she was the only one who knew about my feelings towards the white-haired boy.

I appreciated Shoko's gesture, the warmth of her touch grounding me in the midst of my swirling emotions. Despite my attempts to appear unaffected, the sight of Aksana's obvious interest in Satoru had stirred up a storm of jealousy and insecurity within me. She is very beautiful after all, and she’s extremely smart from looks of it. I couldn't help but wonder if he noticed her advances, if he felt the same magnetic pull towards her as she did towards him.

Suguru, ever perceptive, must have sensed the tension in the air. "You alright, Y/N?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

I forced a smile, nodding in response. "Yeah, just caught off guard by Aksana's sudden interest in Satoru," I replied, trying to downplay my unease.

Shoko squeezed my shoulder gently, her eyes filled with understanding. She quietly spoke to you so no one else heard.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Satoru's not the type to fall for just anyone's charms. You’ve got nothing to worry about." she reassured me, her voice soft but resolute.

As we left the classroom together, I just couldn't shake the feeling that our friendship was about to face a new challenge, one that would test our bonds like never before.

_________________

Taglist:

#angst #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x you #gojou satoru x you #fluff #gojo saturo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru angst #satoru imagine #satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu satoru

[cupid-styles]

camp counselorry sneaky?

YESSS!!! 😍🥹🫶🏼

yay okieeeeee :)))) here's a long one!

. . .

But that afternoon, when the girls and boys groups get together for quick introductions and bonding, Harry doesn’t even care to introduce her. Instead, he stands there, effortlessly capturing the attention of every last one of their kids, and just… skips over Y/N!

He skips over her!

Y/N has to clear her throat and step forward, forcing a friendly grin onto her face like she isn’t prepared to rip Harry a new one as soon as they bring their group to dinner. 

“And I’m Y/N! My second grade girls know I’ll be taking care of them this summer, but I’ll be around to help Harry with the boys, too,” she says. 

“Right, yeah—”

“I can’t wait to get to know each of you this summer,” Y/N continues on. Truthfully, she hadn’t planned to proceed with some type of spiel, but she’s in the mood to be spiteful. How couldn’t she, when Harry refuses to even recognize the fact that she’s just as important? “My door is always open and I’m so excited to have a wonderful few months with you.”

The kids have zoned out by now with their blank, moony gazes. Swallowing awkwardly, she takes a step back as Harry sends her a dirty look. 

“You done, then?” he mutters. 

Blinking, Y/N nods curtly.

“Great,” he mumbles, “Well, I think it’s been a long day for everyone, so why don’t we head to the mess hall for dinner? Tonight, we have a camp-wide bonfire and s’mores on the agenda so don’t eat too much!” 

Thankfully, the kids didn’t notice the tension between Harry and Y/N, and excitedly get up from their spots on the ground to follow them to their next meal. Already, Y/N notices that the boys are attached to Harry, asking him a million questions about anything and everything. She hears thrilled chatter from tiny, high-pitched voices as she silently walks next to her own campers. 

“Harry, why do you talk funny?” (He briefly explains that he was born in London, which he refers to as a far away place in a country called the United Kingdom.)

“How old are you?” (He’s 22, just a year older than Y/N.)

“Do you have any sisters? I have one at home and she’s so annoying!” (He has one and she’s in London.)

“Do you have a girlfriend?” 

For some reason, that one makes Y/N listen just a little bit harder. She’s not sure why — maybe it’s because he’s been so persistently rude to her that she simply can’t imagine any girl willingly committing herself to him. She’s not stupid enough to deny the fact that Harry is attractive in the most conventional way, with his broad shoulders, curly hair, and ridiculously tattooed body, but she doesn't think that's enough of a justification to put up with his bullshit.

Harry chuckles at the question that comes from a boy with blonde hair and squinty eyes, hidden behind a thick pair of glasses. 

“No,” he answers, shaking his head as he pulls open the door for the mess hall, “No girlfriend for me. Besides, why would I need one when I have all of you to keep me entertained for the summer?”

#bestie asks #writing #camp counselorry

[sunnyangy]

Pls do part 2 "furin boys ehen you are sick"

Fuurin boys when you are sick 🍃

pt.2 - Umemiya 🌱

• Usually on the mornings, you always come to Umemiya’s office to say Hi to him and just see him before the day starts. But today, you didn’t come. He started getting worried as he didn’t see you arrive, and never did. He texted you first, but got no response. He then called you, and you finally picked up.

« Hey princess, is everything okay ? Why aren’t you at school ? »

« Mhh it’s just.. my stomach’s been hurting all night.. I don’t feel like coming.. »

• He immediately got worried, and took his bag again, immediately heading out of his office, locking it before running down the stairs.

«  Don’t move, I’ll be right there okay ?? »

• He got some medicine and some of your favorite snacks, before heading to your house. He entered by himself as he had the keys, and headed over to your room. He gently knocked, and entered when he had your approval. You saw him enter his head first, looking at you, before finally coming in and walking to you. He put the bags aside and squatted in front of you. He put a hand on your forehead/cheek, and the other on your stomach, gently caressing it with his thumb.

« It’s okay angel.. I’m here.. tell me if you need anything.. »

• You tried to scold him because of the risks of him getting sick too, but he didn’t care one bit. He agreed to not kiss your lips but kept kissing your forehead, your cheek, your temple, your nose, your chin, your hand, whatever he could kiss or rest his cheek against. He kept caressing your hair, just looking at you.

• His heart was tight, as he hated seeing his girlfriend like this. He just wanted the best for you, and it made him feel uneasy when you were sick.

• All throughout the day he managed your medicine, your hot water for your stomach and your snacks. He also did your chores while you were napping, and cleaned the house a bit. He prepared you some quick meals because he knew it would last a few days, and put them all in the freezer.

• When you woke up, he quickly came back to you.

« What do you want to do baby ? »

He wanted to take your mind off your pain, and accepted to do whatever you wanted. Watching something, playing video games, reading, watching a serie, anything.

• He also spent a part of his day talking to you about some of his plants, showing you pictures and explaining.

• He spent the night with you, making sure you could sleep well. If you woke up, he would also wake up and provide everything you needed, before getting back against you, his warm hand on your stomach, rubbing it slowly to comfort you and put you back to sleep.

• The next few days of your flu, he couldn’t stay all day with you because of his position in Bofuurin, but everytime he had a break, he’d come check on you. Spending all the nights with you, until you were back on your feet.

(and the week after, it was your turn..)

#anime fluff #fluff #wind breaker #windbreaker fluff #windbreaker #hajime umemiya #umemiya fluff #windbreaker umemiya #umemiya

[spence-whore]

Movie Night

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Request: what request are you the most excited to write? also what would spencer be like during a movie night? I’m just curious

A/N a couple of things before we get to this imagine! One, I’m not sure if you wanted this as an imagine but I thought this would be cute as one, so I’m writing it. Secondly, I’ve been really excited to write all of these tbh. I feel like the ones I have been really excited about though are the ones being inspired by certain songs. I have gotten a few requests for song based ones and it’s just been exciting because it’s been music I love and even some I have never heard of before. So, it’s been a challenge trying to think of my own way to interpret it to Spencer and an imagine! Last thing, this is pretty short but i hope it’s still good.

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You and Spencer have known each other since you were in middle school. You were childhood best friends, which eventually turned into high school sweethearts. You moved with Spencer to California, which led to you getting a job with mythical and him working for Smosh. It was like the best of both worlds. The two of you don’t get a lot of time together compared to what you used to get. So, the two of you do movie nights every Wednesday night. You cook some type of food and get a bunch of snacks and sweets. You pile it all together on the living room table. While you’re doing this, Spencer makes a pillow fort on the couch and gets everything set up. Sometimes he will come into the kitchen to attempt to annoy you but he just gets roped into helping you fix something.

Tonight was movie night and the two of you decided on the classic, Napoleon Dynamite, for tonight.

“Spencahhhh” You shout in a fake Italian accent from the kitchen, “Can you come here for a second, my love?”

“If you’re just gonna pull me in here to make me help you make some sticky dessert again, I will actually cry.” Spencer says walking into the kitchen and laughing. “Listen, you remember what happened last time. I had to shower before we got to even start the movie.”

“Oh, whine about it why don’t you.” You say sarcastically, shooting Spencer a glare. “It wasn’t my fault anyways. I was literally just icing cupcakes and you thought it would be funny to smear icing on my face. So, I simply got you back. It was your fault. I just got lonely and didn’t want to be in here alone.”

“Y/N, I was literally like a few steps from you.” Spencer says laughing really loudly. “But hi, I’m sorry I left you all alone. I will stay in here. I’m finished up in there anyways.”

“I’m just putting these cookies on this sheet. Once the pizza is out, I’m going to stick them in there.” You explained, nodding your head towards the oven. “We can just start the movie and eat the pizza til the cookies are done then I’ll grab them.”

The two of you seriously like to go all out with unhealthy foods this night since you try to eat decently healthy every other day of the week. As you finished putting the last of the cookie dough on the sheet, the oven went off and Spencer stood up to grab it for you.

“Please remember to grab the oven mitt this time. We really don’t need a rerun of you burning the shit out of your hand then having to cancel movie night.” You quickly said with a smile on your face.

“Good lord, you’re never going to let that down, are you?” Spencer muttered while sliding on an oven mitt to grab the two small pizzas. “Are you sure you’re always up to doing all of this cooking and baking? I feel like today is really the only free day we get together. We could just always order food from somewheres and go pick up snacks and desserts from the store.” He rambles while walking over to the table to place the pizzas on it.

You shrug your shoulders, keeping your back to Spencer while you walk over to the oven and pop the cookies in. “I always just feel better knowing that everything is home made. I ate fast food so much as a young adult in college.” You turned around to face him. “I made a promise to myself that whenever I got out of college, no matter what, I would make the time to cook something to eat for myself; even if it is something small. Plus, I always like incorporating things you like or haven’t tried yet in the mix. I always like surprising you. You always praise it, so it gives me that drive to want to do it more.”

Spencer just stared at you with a love struck look on his face then walked up to you and yanked you into a hug. “I wasn’t complaining about it and I hope you know that. I mean god, I’m beyond thankful for a partner that loves to cook like this. If we’re being honest? I would probably live off of fast food all throughout the week if it wasn’t for you.” He whispered into your hair then kissed the top of your head.

You just laughed really loudly into his chest, “I’m going to be honest with you, that’s another one of the reasons I do it. Fast food makes anyone feel icky and weak. I like knowing that you can get a good meal and actually feel good throughout the day. I guess it’s like my love language.”

Spencer pulled back from the hug and placed his hands on both sides of your face for a minute just looking at you. “I love you so much and I hope you never forget that.” He gave you a quick peck then nodded towards the kitchen table. “I’ll grab the plates if you cut the pizzas?”

You nodded then grab his face really quickly before he could walk away to give him another kiss. “I love you too goofy ass.”

You walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a pizza cutter while Spencer grabbed two plates and walked over to place them on the table while you were cutting the pizzas.

“Oh wait,” You said just remembering. “You’re gonna love me even more. I went and bought more Mountain Dew Kickstarts because I realized you were almost out. I also bought two single ones, one of you and one for me, tonight.” You say with a soft smile on your face.

Spencer aggressively kissed you on the cheek then walked over to the fridge to grab the drinks. “You ready to watch the absolute masterpiece that is Napoleon Dynamite?”

“Spencer, this is like the seventh time we have watched this movie this year and it is May. You would think at this point, I would be tired of it. I’m so excited to watch it.”

Spencer chuckled at you and shook his head, “You’re a dork. I’m taking these drinks into the living room now. Do you need help carrying anything?” He asked turning to look at you.

“Nope, I got it all here bub. Just grab my phone because I set on a timer on it for the cookies.”

You carried the two plates into the living room and could’ve just cried walking in there. Spencer always goes all out with the pillow forts. It looked so big and so comfortable. He always had laid out so many different candies and popcorn in two huge bowls on the living room table. You placed the two plates of pizza on the table and realized he had also went and bought you new flowers to put in your vase, to replace the ones that were starting to wilt.

Spencer looks at you with the most serious look on his face then in Napoleon’s voice says, “Gosh, can we start the movie already?”

#spencer agnew x reader #smosh x reader #spencer agnew fluff #spencer agnew imagines

[aleenuhs]

Can you make a drabble where the reader asks Arthur for advice? The reader went through a difficult time and she would like to ask Arthur for help. You can do it platonically or romantically, I'd just like a little fluff with angst.

⋆Confide in Me

thank u anon. i am so sorry that i got back this really late, its been a whirlwind of things.

warnings: nun much just fluff and smidge of angst.

Lately you’d been down. Moping around camp and hardly carrying your own weight, so you were having a hard time needless to say.

Barley finishing your chores, your mind was filled with the negativity energy that clouded your judgement. Finding no time to be alone or without your thoughts for even a moment.

Nobody had noticed you and how you carried yourself for the last few days, well, most people in the gang had been out and about the land, hunting — robbing, stealing. Whatever they did outside of camp.

It felt so lonely but crowded at the same time, like you were a ghost in a room full of people.

Your life had been characterized by an overwhelming desire to escape, but a lack of direction harbored you. From your childhood till now, you wanted to leave, find a home. And even around these people who treated you so well, you felt lost. Arthur had tried talking to you, but you quickly ended it, shutting down any opportunity for him to ask if you were okay.

Arthur, had just came back from a hunting trip with the Charles, bringing back 2 deer carcasses.

You were sitting on a flipped over crate, which created something like a seat, which wasn’t to your comfort but you didn’t want to sit on the ground. You needed some kind of break, maybe even someone to confide in.

Arthur was at his tent, moving some stuff around, you looked at him, quickly looking away when his gaze turned back to you. A moment passed by and he kneeled next to you.

“Hey love,” he said, lowering his head to look at you, your gaze was locked to the floor and the blades of grass surrounding. Though it was hot out, the breeze felt nice.

You chose your words, and replied back. “Hi,” you said, barely audible, he had to strain to hear you.

“You doin’ alright there?” He said, still kneeling next you. You looked at him, you nodded, then took it back, shaking your head, tears threatening your eyes. His face contorted into a more worried expression, his hand went to your thigh. “Hey — what’s wrong?” He’d sensed something was up, the way you were hardly talking for the past few days, just finishing up chores. Which you didn’t like to do, but it was your distraction.

“I’ve…” You started, then retired as you could hardly find the words to express what you had been feeling for the longest. You and Arthur were no strangers, you knew him well and he knew you very well, and how he loves you is for eternity. But you could be closed off at times.

“I don’t know Arthur.” You spoke and his eyes looked sad as he looked at you. “I feel so alone, here.”

He brings you closer, taking you into his arms, now sitting on the ground with you in his arms, he slowly brushed your hair away from your face. “Whys that? Is someone making you feel that way?”

You immediately rejected that idea, as it was not true. “No, it’s not that Arthur. I don’t know how to explain it, I feel like I’m just free floating and nobody sees me here, I feel down. And it’s all coming back to me.” You shed a few tears, but you weren’t full fledged sobbing.

He nods, “Understood. Y’know, I see you. Always.” He said calmly, it comforted you like hell. “I’m here for you, come to me.”

“I know, but you’ve been gone for the time being. And I missed you so much.” You admitted.

“I can’t skip my chores or duties here, but if it’s somethin’ like this, I’ll try and stay here for you. You mean s’much to me, if I lost you I’d go mad.” He said stroking your hair. And at once, your problems weren’t gone, but you knew you had a solid rock to lean on. And it was Arthur.

“Yeah. Thank you, Arthur.” You looked up at him, he thumb reaches up to swipe a tear from your cheek, kissing your forehead.

a/n if u liked this pls req more, they’ll be open for a bit (check guidelines and info to see who and what I write for!)

#red dead redemption 2 #fluff #angst #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption arthur

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 42

Carnationspeckle recovers from birthing strains. Fennelspot does his best to prop up Spike’s body and feels growing concern at the rancid smell coming from the broken and twisted part of Spike’s back.

[Image ID: Carnationspeckle sits in the back while Fennelspot looks after Spike. Under Carnationspeckle, it says - CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Under Spike, it says + INFECTION.]

Lavenderpaw was curious about Spike. Why wouldn’t he be? Shadowdrop, who had only recently come back from his punishment for causing one molly’s death, saves the life of another? A molly that most likely knew Cinderella?  Lavenderpaw was no historian, but it was quite the story! Of course he wanted to know more!

Despite that curiosity, Lavenderpaw didn’t get much of a chance to see Spike. Scrubmask loved to keep him busy. StarClan, that warrior was tighter than a leather strap! Every day, it was “Lavenderpaw, here’a why we patrol” and “Lavenderpaw, warriors help where needed”, there was no time for fun! Lavenderpaw’s littermates seemed to enjoy their apprenticeships. Palepaw learned from everyone she could about being a meditator. Wasppaw and Puddlepaw got to have fake arguments and pick apart famous trials of the past. Ripplepaw had a mentor that could interview ghosts! What could Scrubmask do? Snap at Lavenderpaw for humming?

Lucky for Lavenderpaw, his mother was deputy. While Weedfoot was still sick, she could boss cats around again. That’s how Lavenderpaw ended up Fennelspot’s apprentice for the day.

“Bubblemoon and I are some of the only living clerics to have dealt with broken backs,” Fennelspot explained as he darted about the medicine den. “We’ll be talking at the half-moon meeting for a while about Spike’s condition. I need to know that you can handle any sniffles or complaints the Clan may bring up while I’m gone.”

“You’ve given me a lot of medicine to help,” Lavenderpaw said, eyeing the vast assortment of ointments and powders along the walls. “If I have any questions, I can ask Palepaw.”

“And if it’s a true emergency, send Scrubmask to collect me,” Fennelspot reminded him. He placed a small jar into a leather pouch, tightened the twine around it, and slid it around his neck. “Carnationspeckle should be coming in sometime tonight for something to stop her milk. The kits stopped nursing a while ago, but Carnationspeckle’s still producing milk. I have a sage and parsley she needs to add to her next meal, give her the small pouch next to Spike.” Fennelspot and Lavenderpaw glanced Spike’s way. The loner spent most of her days lying quietly in her nest, silently watching visitors or turned to the wall. The latter was true that day.

Lavenderpaw leaned close to Fennelspot and whispered, “Should I do anything with her?”

“Just keep your eye on her and get her anything she needs,” Fennelspot said. “Spike? I’ll be back early in the morning. Lavenderpaw will help you while I’m gone.” Spike shifted her paw, the only sign she heard Fennelspot at all. Fennelspot sighed. He touched noses with Lavenderpaw and trotted out into the chilly winter sunset.

Lavenderpaw examined the den. Being cleric for a day would be fun! Just looking after the Clan, just like he already did. He had to admit, all the medicines were certainly interesting. He trotted up to Carnationspeckle’s prepared bundle and studied each herb and concoction. As his thoughts drifted, he settled on a song.

“Come join claw in paw, brave warriors all,

And rouse your bold hearts at fair liberty’s call;

No tyrannous acts, shall suppress your just claim—”

“Or stain with dishonor the dear Ripple’s name.” Lavenderpaw’s head spun toward Spike.

“You know The Movement’s Call?” Lavenderpaw gasped. Spike grew still. “Don’t go quiet on me! I love The Movement’s Call! How does a loner know that song?” Spike sighed deeply.

“Help me face you,” Spike muttered. Lavenderpaw bolted over. He carefully helped Spike stand on her front paws and, keeping her back straight with the brace, slowly spun her around. Lavenderpaw could smell the infection in Spike’s heavily covered wound. He wondered if Spike could groom herself with her injury. Surely Fennelspot was grooming her. So why was her fur so rough and ragged below her wound?

Lavenderpaw set Spike down with a thud. Lavenderpaw flinched as Spike hissed. 

“Sorry!” Lavenderpaw gulped. “Let me find something for the pain.”

“No, it’s fine,” Spike groaned, waving Lavenderpaw off. “I’ll tell you if it gets worse.”

“How do you know a Clan song?” Lavenderpaw asked, sitting beside the injured loner.

“Because, long ago,” Spike sighed, “my father lived in the Clans.” Lavenderpaw scooted closer. “I don’t know what else you expect from me. He knew the song, so he taught it to me.”

“Who is he?” Lavenderpaw asked. “Is he still alive? What Clan did he come from? Were you coming to join us when the horse trampled you?”

“You’re asking too many questions,” Spike huffed, her body tensing.

“You turned to talk,” Lavenderpaw pointed out. His smugness was as strong as the horse’s blow.

“My father is still alive,” Spike said, rolling her eyes. “He and my mother raised me until I was six moons old, at which point he went back to wandering. He stops by our den a couple times each moon to see how my aunt, mother and I are faring. Were faring. Until my aunt got pregnant and started bringing back all these Clan teachings my father never thought to share with us.”

“Cinderella was your aunt,” Lavenderpaw gasped. “We thought you were related!”

“And now I’m in the Clan that caused her death,” Spike muttered. She placed her head between her paws.

“In our defense, Shadowdrop got Cinderella pregnant. We had nothing to do with it. We helped you, didn’t we? We aren’t so bad.”

“You helped a dead cat. You have many skills in the Clans, but even you and your ancestors can’t fix an infected spine. I don’t get the dignity of dying around my kin, just like Cinderella.”

“You’ll see your parents again. I promise.”

“And who are you to make that promise?” Spike’s cold eyes hardened Lavenderpaw’s resolve.

“The deputy’s son, thank you very much.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Lavenderpaw stuck out his tongue. For the first time since he met Spike, the injured loner chirped softly, whiskers twitching in a quiet mirth.

“Oh, when my sisters were sick,” Lavenderpaw explained, “we visited all the time to keep their spirits up. Fennelspot said it helped them recover faster. Maybe if we spend some time together, your infection might go away.”

“I don’t believe that’s how infections work.”

“Please? I want to hear stories from a real loner, someone who knows what life is like out there right now.” Lavenderpaw couldn’t help but wiggle his flank in anticipation. Spike sighed once more, stretching out the breath until Lavenderpaw thought he would explode from the wait.

“What else do you want to know?” Spike groaned.

“Truthfully,” Lavenderpaw chuckled, sitting in a loaf in front of Spike, “I want to continue singing The Movement’s Call with you. You have a good voice!” Spike rolled her eyes, but cleared her throat.

“In freedom we’re born, and in freedom we’ll live;

Our hearts are ready,

Steady, Friends, steady.”

(Lavenderpaw: 8, male, warrior apprentice, bold, likes to sing)

(Fennelspot: 99, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Spike: 17, female, loner, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

Scrubmask can’t imagine what her life would look like without Downstar. They both spend time with Mosskit, who has greencough.

[Image ID: Scrubmask and Downstar face Mosskit, who has + CONDITION: GREENCOUGH written under him. Downstar says “Tell us that story you were so excited about, Moss.”]

(Scrubmask: 59, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

(Downstar: 101, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Mosskit: 3, male, kit, bullying, stares at fire)

Tempestkit disappears from camp as a blizzard begins to pick up. Downstar leads a patrol after the wayward kit.

[Image ID: A patrol marches through the snow. From left to right, the patrol includes Rustshade, Fennelspot, Wasppaw, Mousesong, Puddlepaw, Shadowdrop, and Downstar.]

---

Fennelspot predicted it the day before; a massive blizzard tearing into the territories, cursed by Stormfoots, those twisted Spirits of Shadow born from their namesake in the Dark Forest. Downstar was quick to act and ordered the caretakers to lead preparations around camp. She disappointed Wildclaw, who thought it meant reprieve from kit duty, when Downstar put her in charge of shoring up the nursery. Carnationspeckle worked with the artisans to find the best spot in camp for a bonfire; they would need the warmth. Clammask darted about, making sure everyone had a den to fortify or a job to do in prepping for the storm. Even James got off his lazy flank and helped out.

“If we cook the prey we have into dishes like pemmican,” Downstar muttered, studying the fresh-kill pile, “we can feed the Clan with well-preserved food throughout the storm.”

“Do you suppose it will be a long blizzard?” Weedfoot asked. Her voice was congested, the symptoms of whitecough still clinging to her pelt and slowing her down, but she could largely do her job now.

“That’s what Fennelspot predicted,” Downstar sighed. “He was right about the darkhound, so I assume he’s right about the storm. Wildclaw, where are you going?” Downstar looked over at her daughter, who walked with Trumpetkit and Tempestkit away from the nursery.

“Mom, I’m just escorting them to the dirt place!” Wildclaw groaned. “The nursery’s ready for the snow.”

“Good,” Downstar sighed, nodding as Wildclaw ushered the two black mollies around the shipwreck. 

“You seem more like yourself today,” Weedfoot hummed. “More like you were when we founded RippleClan.”

“I work well in a crisis,” Downstar admitted. A snowflake danced over her whiskers, making her shiver.

“StarClan, the snow’s starting already?” Weedfoot groaned, looking up. “Fennelspot said the storm would start in the morning. It isn’t even sunset yet.”

“Hurry, everyone!” Downstar yowled to the scurrying cats around camp. “We have less time than we thought. Focus on the essentials. Rattlepelt, Rabbitjoy, Carnationspeckle, start cooking and make sure the fires are lit!”

“The apprentice’s den isn’t ready for the snow,” Puddlepaw called, sticking his head out.

“You’re sleeping in the nursery with the elders then,” Downstar barked. “If the snow will be as strong as Fennelspot says, I don’t trust the shipwreck to keep us warm. Weedfoot, get Oilstripe and Mosskit into the warrior’s den.”

A sudden caterwaul caught the Clan’s attention. It came from the dirt place.

“Tempestkit!” Wildclaw yowled. Shadowdrop, who had been bundling leather pelts at the edge of the warrior’s den, bolted past Downstar. Downstar and Weedfoot joined him in the race to the dirtplace.

When the trio turned the corner, Trumpetkit’s tiny teeth were buried in Wildclaw’s leg. The tip of Tempestkit’s tail slipped through the thorns that covered the top of the rocks, keeping the dirtplace separate from the rest of the world. Oilstripe had Trumpetkit by the scruff and finally pulled her off.

“Tempestkit, get back here right now!” Shadowdrop roared. He soared onto the rocky border, but the hole in the thorn wall was only big enough for a kit; Shadowdrop stuck his paw through and frantically waved about, but Downstar could see Tempestkit’s fluffy pelt streaking toward the forest, snowflakes catching on her black fur.

“Trumpetkit, what are you doing?” Oilstripe snapped, throwing Trumpetkit down. “That’s your aunt!” 

“You nearly drew blood!” Wildclaw groaned, licking her back leg.

“Tempestkit wanted to go on an adventure like Aunt Duskkit did when she was our age,” Trumpetkit whined. She sunk into the sand, big golden eyes bouncing between each panicked adult. “She said if I distracted Aunt Wildclaw, she’d bring me back a gift!”

“During a blizzard?” Weedfoot hissed. She looked between Trumpetkit and Tempestkit’s hole in the wall. Shadowdrop continued to frantically claw at the hole, as though if he stretched far enough, he would snatch Tempestkit’s tail. Shadowdrop screamed and jumped off the rocks.

“You’ve been staying in the den next to the dirt place for moons!” Shadowdrop roared at Oilstripe. “Didn’t you see this hole in the wall?”

“I don’t watch cats use the dirt place, Shadowdrop!” Oilstripe hissed. Downstar had enough of it. She raced back into the main clearing, where the Clan was nervously waiting to hear what happened.

“I want all our codekeepers with me, now!” Downstar yowled. “Tempestkit has run off. We need to bring her back before the blizzard grows.”

“Does that include our apprentices?” Rustshade asked as Mousesong shook out her pelt, ready to go. Downstar nodded. Wasppaw and Puddlepaw hurried to their mentors. Wasppaw stood proud beside Mousesong while Puddlepaw rubbed against his father, searching for answers in James’ face.

“Mom, I’m coming with you.” Shadowdrop ran up beside Downstar, leading the rest of the crowd out of the dirt place.

“No,” Downstar huffed. “Trumpetkit and Mosskit need you.”

“I am coming with you!” Shadowdrop snapped. “She is my daughter, it is my responsibility to look after her.” Downstar hesitated. How responsible could Shadowdrop be when his kits came about from such a selfish act? 

“Oh…” Downstar groaned, jaw tense, “Wildclaw, don’t let the other kits out of your sight!” Wildclaw stood to the side with Trumpetkit and Mosskit, who had stumbled out of the quarantine den. Wildclaw pulled them both close. “Fennelspot, with us! The longer we wait, the further she gets!” Downstar’s patrol formed around her as she hurried out of camp. A cold wind ushered them out as the sky above darkened.

Fennelspot and Mousesong beat the patrol to the other side of camp where the dirt place wall gave way and Tempestkit made her escape. Mousesong sniffed the ground and growled. 

“All I smell is the dirt place,” she said, nose curling.

“She ran that way,” Shadowdrop said, pointing his tail toward the forest.

“Tempestkit!” Wasppaw called. “Tempestkit, it’s cold out here! It’s not that exciting!” Another sharp wind blew in Downstar’s face, sending a barrage of snow into her eyes.

“Pray to our ancestors she has the good sense to turn around,” Downstar growled. “Follow her trail.” 

At their leader’s command, the patrol charged into the growing blizzard, calling Tempestkit’s name.

(Fennelspot: 99, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Downstar: 101, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Weedfoot: 90, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Wildclaw: 34, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Puddlepaw: 8, male, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)

(Trumpetkit: 3, female, kit, nervous, plays in mud)

(Tempestkit: 3, female, kit, troublesome, loves to eat)

(Oilstripe: 46, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Shadowdrop: 34, male, warrior, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)

(Rustshade: 86, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Mousesong: 18, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

(Wasppaw: 8, male, codekeeper apprentice, strict, interested in clan history, eye for detail)

[Image ID: Shadowdrop, Downstar, and Tempestkit cuddle close as snow falls around them and Downstar says “I will die as many times as I need to keep you both warm.”]

---

Tempestkit shouldn’t have been far. She was still a kit, unfamiliar with the territory. The forest wasn’t thick yet. Tempestkit should have been leaving the scent of the dirt place  in her wake. But as sunset arrived, the snow grew thicker. Downstar’s paws grew numb. And the patrol was no closer to finding Tempestkit than they were when they set off.

Shadowdrop yowled as the thickening blanket of snow under his paws sent him tumbling forward. He smashed his chin against the cold ground. Puddlepaw and Rustshade helped him up. 

“This is ridiculous!” Shadowdrop groaned. “Where could she have gone? How have we not found her yet?”

“It’s the Stormfoots,” Fennelspot gulped. He stared into the harsh blowing snow. “They’re hiding her in their snow. I just know it.”

“They aren’t taking my granddaughter from me,” Downstar hissed. “We keep going. We don’t go home until we find her!”

“The snow’s starting to collect on the ground,” Puddlepaw pointed out. “We’ll start seeing pawprints sooner or later.”

“We don’t even know if we’re still following her,” Mousesong huffed.

“Then we split up,” Rustshade said. He glanced around and added “If you were a kit on an adventure, where might you go?”

“I would go see the river,” Wasppaw said. “I was curious to see it when I was little.”

“You didn’t grow up with stories about your dead mom,” Mousesong grunted. “Wouldn’t you want to see her grave for yourself?”

“Maybe she’s not thinking,” Shadowdrop said, casting a cold eye at Mousesong. “Maybe she just picked a direction and wondered what was out there.”

“Fennelspot, I know what you’re going to say,” Downstar groaned, “but I think we should split up.”

“That is an awful idea!” Fennelspot gasped. “The storm will only get worse. This is the sort of weather that gets cats killed!”

“And my daughter is out there,” Shadowdrop hissed, tail thrashing. “If my mother thinks we should split up, I’m following her.” 

“We don’t know where Tempestkit went,” Downstar reminded the group. “It’s more important to find her and make sure she’s warm than worry about ourselves. This is what we train for.” Wasppaw nodded, gaining a second wind. Mousesong copied her apprentice, tail brushed against his side. 

“Howlingwind, Celestial of snowfall, hear us o Blessed One and repel these Stormfoots from our shores.” Fennelspot squeezed his eyes tight as he prayed.

“Fennelspot, take Wasppaw and Mousesong to the Great Northern River,” Downstar ordered. “Rustshade, Puddlepaw, head south. Shadowdrop and I will continue west.”

“We have to go back to camp when it gets too dark,” Fennelspot huffed. “I mean it, Downstar. We can’t find Tempestkit if we freeze to death.” Downstar stayed silent as the snow tried to tear Fennelspot’s voice away. Shadowdrop curled into himself as he braced against the wind. His eyes met his mother’s. There was a quiet agreement no plea could break.

“Be quick, everyone,” Downstar ordered. “Find her!” Shadowdrop and Downstar joined each other’s side and hurried against the screaming snow. From that moment on, they might as well have been the only cats in the territory.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Downstar would have thought the storm to be a beautiful thing. Soon the snow would drag the pine branches low and cover the ground in a white blanket that reached Downstar’s chest. But the storm had only been blowing for a short time. When Downstar ran over the snow collecting on the dead grass, she could once again see the grass through her pawprints. The dark trees were dusted rather than smothered. But the lack of thick layers meant nothing when the falling snow tore at Downstar’s eyes. She didn’t feel when her paws hit the ground and her face was ready to fall off. 

Downstar wasn’t sure where they were in the territory. The snowfall turned the world white. Shadowdrop and Downstar scoured each area they found, calling Tempestkit’s name and searching in each little cranny. Sometimes Downstar forgot whether they had searched a certain bush or tree yet and Shadowdrop had to redirect her. She prayed it was her worry clouding her memory and not the freezing fangs of frostbite.

“Pawprints!” Shadowdrop finally shrieked. “I found pawprints!” Downstar had been checking under a large exposed root when Shadowdrop called for her. Sure enough, there was a small trail of kitten sized pawprints emerging from a bush and hiking through the snow.

“Tempestkit!” Downstar yowled, jogging alongside the tracks. Shadowdrop kept his nose to the ground, searching for a scent amidst the churning storm. The wind screamed and knocked Downstar off-balance.  As she steadied her paws, she spotted a large stone jutting out of a gentle slope. A small hole broke through the haze of white that slowly turned black in the coming night. The fading pawprints led straight to it. Downstar shoved Shadowdrop and turned his gaze to the hole.

Downstar and Shadowdrop fought to squeeze inside. From the size of it, the hole may have been a fox den, although if it was, all trace of its creator had vanished. The more concerning feature of the den was the black kitten huddled in the back, shivering so hard Downstar thought she would hurt herself.

“Tempestkit, what were you thinking?” Shadowdrop groaned. He wrapped himself around his daughter. Downstar suddenly realized that between all of Shadowdrop’s new duties and the Clan’s effort to help Tempestkit and her siblings find their place in the Clan, she had never seen him properly curl up with his kits. It seemed natural for him. He’d endured his punishment with dignity, he wanted to be a father. Perhaps Tempestkit noticed that. Perhaps there was more to her misadventure than following in the pawsteps of her long-dead aunt.

“I’m cold,” she whined, pressing into her father’s shoulder. Downstar licked Tempestkit’s fur the wrong way, trying to warm her up. She was so cold, she didn’t feel alive.

“We need to start a fire,” Downstar muttered, glancing out into the storm. The world suddenly turned a deep, unbreakable blue, shifting into dark grays in the snowfall. 

“With what?” Shadowdrop huffed. “Everything is wet. Mom, Tempestkit needs warmth. Come here. Please.” Downstar crawled beside her son and granddaughter. She pressed into both of their dark pelts and tried to pour what little heat remained into them.

“I’m ready to go home now,” Tempestkit muttered into her father’s fur. “I had my fun.”

“I don’t think we can move,” Shadowdrop said. “I… I don’t know where we are.” Downstar pushed her son closer. Shadowdrop nudged Tempestkit between them, giving her the majority of the extra warmth.

“We’ll sleep here tonight,” Downstar sighed. “I’ll keep you both warm.”

“Focus on Tempestkit,” Shadowdrop huffed. “She needs it more.” Downstar wrapped her front paws around Tempestkit, but squirmed closer to her son.

“I will die as many times as I need to keep you both warm,” Downstar promised.

The world screamed her to sleep.

(Shadowdrop: 34, male, warrior, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)

(Fennelspot: 99, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Downstar: 101, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Puddlepaw: 8, male, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)

(Mousesong: 18, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

(Rustshade: 86, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Wasppaw: 8, male, codekeeper apprentice, strict, interested in clan history, eye for detail)

(Tempestkit: 3, female, kit, troublesome, loves to eat)

[Image ID: Fennelspot looks up at smoke in the sky, saying “Everyone, follow the smoke!”]

---

Fennelspot ordered Wasppaw and Mousesong to head back to camp when Wasppaw reported an unshakable chill seeping through his body. Standing beside the freezing river, searching for a missing kit, would only tear apart their skin and hurt them more. They simply had to turn back. Rustshade must have had the same thought, as he and Puddlepaw were already home when Fennelspot’s group returned.

Downstar and Shadowdrop didn’t come home that night.

“Downstar!” Fennelspot yowled, his voice muffled by the thick snow. “Tempestkit!” 

The storm had finally subsided shortly before dawn, leaving the world smothered in snow. As soon as the weather cleared, Weedfoot picked a few well-rested trackers like Scrubmask, Halibutdusk, and Carnationspeckle and sent them back out with Fennelspot to find their missing Clanmates.

“You said they went west?” Carnationspeckle huffed, breath frosting around her as she stood by Fennelspot.

“The storm is over, why aren’t they coming home?” Halibutdusk groaned from his lookout point on a low oak branch. “Shadowdrop! Shadowdrop!” Scrubmask stayed quiet, focused on scenting the air. 

“I’m going ahead,” Fennelspot sighed. “I need to pray. Yowl if you see anything. Downstar’s still alive out there.” That was an indisputable fact. The storm was strong, but not enough to take all of Downstar’s lives. Not yet, at least. Fennelspot had to hide his gaze, however, at the thought of Shadowdrop and Tempestkit. 

The rest of the patrol kept calling out, but Fennelspot found a quiet spot under a pine. The weight of the snow dragged it off the branches, leaving huge, awkward piles around the trunk but bare needles above. The pine sat beside a small opening in the forest canopy, revealing a bright gray sky. Fennelspot closed his eyes. He had to keep his ears sharp. At a time like this, StarClan surely would not stay silent.

A storm within a storm gives the dark a chance to shine. Look to the sky for the call to action.

Fennelspot gasped, eyes fluttering. This was it! The moment of the prophecy! Tempestkit was the storm in the storm! Shadowdrop went to find her, he was the dark. The second half… Fennelspot locked his eyes to the gray clouds. The sky was still.

“I’m looking,” Fennelspot begged softly.

The color of the clouds shifted. A slimmer of darker color slipped into the corner of Fennelspot’s gaze. It rose into the high clouds. The aging cleric realized it wasn’t just another cloud. His eyes could follow the trail back into the trees.

It was a smoke stack.

“The smoke!” Fennelspot yowled. “Everyone, follow the smoke!” He didn’t wait to see if the others head his cry. He ran into the trees, towards where the drifting smoke disappeared. His feet skidded in the fluffy snow and his legs had to push against its weight. As usual, Scrubmask was right behind him.

He saw the fire before he saw Downstar. It was a small fire composed of the barest of essentials. Heavy smoke drifted from the burning branches. Downstar had cleared away the snow around the fire and placed Tempestkit beside the flames. Downstar stared into the fire, unaware of Fennelspot’s arrival.

“Downstar!” Carnationspeckle dove through the snow, snowballs knotting in her leg fur. Downstar snapped out of it as Carnationspeckle wrapped herself around her former mentor. “StarClan, you’re so cold!” Fennelspot focused on Tempestkit. Somehow, the little kit didn’t seem to have frostbite or any major damage from the cold.

“Have you been with her all night?” Fennelspot asked. Downstar nodded softly, her focus returning to the fire.

“Is Shadowdrop still with you?” Scrubmask asked. Downstar did not reply.

“Tempestkit, how do you feel?” Fennelspot asked the young kit.

“Like I’m in a lot of trouble,” Tempestkit gulped.

“We kept her warm,” Downstar muttered. “We kept her warm.” There was a den behind Downstar. Only two sets of paws left the den in the heavy snow.

“Carnationspeckle, care for Tempestkit,” Fennelspot gulped as Halibutdusk finally joined them. 

Fennelspot slipped past Downstar. His nose quivered in the chill. He braced himself and stepped inside. His eyes quickly adjusted to the light. Shadowdrop was still inside. He laid with his back to the exit, curled around cats who were no longer there.

He would not be joining his mother and daughter by the fire.

(Fennelspot: 99, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Carnationspeckle: 44, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Halibutdusk: 34, male, warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Scrubmask: 59, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

(Downstar: 101, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Tempestkit: 3, female, kit, troublesome, loves to eat)

Halibutdusk is grief-stricken at the loss of his brother.

[Image ID: Halibutdusk faces Downstar and Wildclaw. Under Halibutdusk, it says + CONDITION: GRIEVING. Under Downstar, it says LIVES LEFT: 6.]

---

Halibutdusk couldn’t stop wondering; did his mother lose a life first, or did Shadowdrop growing cold push her over the edge? Who left their body first? Whose death resulted in the others? At least Tempestkit survived. At least he had that vague comfort. 

Downstar called Halibutdusk and Wildclaw into her den while Fennelspot prepared Shadowdrop’s vigil. The trio hadn’t talked much since they brought Shadowdrop’s body back to camp. Wildclaw had been busy reuniting Mosskit and Trumpetkit with their wayward sister, Downstar had to make sure the vigil went according to plan, and Halibutdusk… he couldn’t really think.

When the two surviving littermates entered their mother’s den, Downstar paced around her nest. She showed no signs of the cold that stole one of her lives. Halibutdusk shifted awkwardly as he waited for Downstar to speak. Wildclaw beat him to it.

“This is my fault, right?” Wildclaw huffed. “That’s why you called me in here. I let Tempestkit get out of camp, and Shadowdrop died.”

“No,” Downstar growled, clawing the ground at the very thought. “I will never blame you for this.” Wildclaw was stunned into silence. “I didn’t punish Oilstripe for letting Duskkit sneak out all those moons ago. This is more Tempestkit’s fault than your own, and even she’s realized what she did was wrong.” Halibutdusk distinctly remembered Downstar tearing into Oilstripe for letting her adventurous daughter slip around her, but Halibutdusk didn’t have the heart to bring it up. 

“Then what do we do now?” Wildclaw groaned. 

“There’s nothing to do, Wildclaw,” Downstar sighed. She sat in her nest. “We just mourn. I brought you in here because…” Downstar took a deep breath, closing her eyes and collecting her strength. “There is a chance Shadowdrop… might not make it to StarClan.” Halibutdusk didn’t know his heart could fall any further.

“Why not?” Wildclaw hissed, the fur on the back of her neck prickling. “How do you know?”

“Duskkit greeted me in StarClan when I lost my life,” Downstar explained quietly. “She told me Shadowdrop would be put on trial when he entered StarClan for how he handled the situation with Cinderella.”

“We already put him on trial!” Wildclaw snapped with a thrash of her scarred tail. “He’s already been punished! He’s done so much good, he doesn’t—” Wildclaw stopped herself, jaw tight. “I’m going out. I’ll be back for the vigil.” Downstar let her daughter go, leaving Halibutdusk standing alone before his mother. 

Halibutdusk slowly approached his mother. Downstar scooted over. Halibutdusk slipped into the nest beside her. He pressed into his mother’s side.

“They’ll let him into StarClan,” Halibutdusk gulped. “They have to.”

(Halibutdusk: 34, male, warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Downstar: 101, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Wildclaw: 34, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

#warrior cats #clangen #rippleclan #warriors #rippleclan story #downstar #oilstripe #weedfoot #spike #fennelspot #lavenderpaw #wasppaw #puddlepaw #tempestkit #shadowdrop #halibutdusk #carnationspeckle #trumpetkit #scrubmask #rustshade #mousesong #wildclaw

[prince-strife]

So I watched “Like Minds” (I’m super unwell about gay people)

this one is like 3x longer than the tenet one

spoilers for a movie that came out 20 years ago ig

alex is clearly rly smart but he’s a right prick about it

nigel sure does like to stare 🤨🤨

oh so he’s a little freak. bro’s got a taxidermy cat in his luggage

ARE THEY MAKING BOMBS??

well. def explosives

DOES HE TAXIDERMY THE ANIMALS HIMSELF

he rly likes dead stuff…

not the gay little obsession

GIRL RECORK YOUR WINE BOTTLE

NIGEL WHY ARE YOU DISSECTING BIRDS IN YOUR BEDROOM

he’s so pretty tho fr mfer has gorgeous eyes

bro fuck this cop frfr

he did not seriously just punch this kid

oooh alex is fucked in the head too. inch resting

alex is one of those rich boys ._.

“obligations” hmmm i Do Not like the sound of that

WAIT THAT WAS HIS DAD??? that explains that ig

wait why is alex on the villains wiki. WHY IS ONE OF HIS CRIMES NECROPHILIA

interesting that alex is so aggressively anti-church (as an establishment, i mean)

ooooh nigel is Looking at him

not him fighting with his teacher

taking detailed notes about the people around him…nigel colbie autism

nooo leave him alone :((

alex is so mean to him omg. let him be a little freak in peace

HOLY SHIT HE JUST KILLED THAT KID

OHHH SALLY ROWE IS FUCKIN. JONI THROMBEY

wtf ym you “can’t find” the colbies..

omg staring across a casket at each other..

tom sturridge is so fucking beautiful i’m unwell

“i almost missed him” 🤨🤨

38 minutes in and i think this is the longest we’ve heard nigel speak

THE FUCK BOOK IS HE READING FOR THIS CLASS

idk i need nigel and alex to kiss

WOAH NIGEL JUST GOT REALLY CLOSE

“i’m really sorry about your friend” baby don’t lie no the fuck you’re not

smth abt the way nigel said “but you don’t have to worry” reminds me of the scene at the end of batman where joker is telling the riddler he did a good job.

THE GLARE AT THIS POOR GIRL nigel looks jealous as fuck

nigel baby giving the boy you like a hand is not the way to his heart

“it looks like you need a hand.” BABE. NO. TOO ON THE NOSE

he’s so cute in his lil jumper

SITTING ON HIS BED??? LEANING OVER HIM WHILE HE SLEEPS???? nah this is. gay behaviour

“alex, wake up. i’ve got a night planned 🥺” aww they’re gonna go on a date

oh they’re super close. NOW KISS

ooh hanging the essay over his head

the big smile… “are you having fun?” the little giggle. the smirk. he hates his ass. he is so in love with him. WHAT IS GOING ON

hmm i do not trust this

THE PUPPYY

“i’ve never brought anybody here before” INTERESTING (“i’m being vulnerable plz don’t be a dick abt this”)

i’ve still got an hour left of this movie good god

my mom is watching gbbo rly loudly and i just got super confused as to why the music Did Not Match the scene

“do you like it 🥺🥺” NIGEL. BABY. he’s so proud of his weird little lab it’s so cute

these little history nerds…

i rly thought nigel was gonna cuddle into him for a second

HELLO NIGEL IS STARING AT HIS LIPS????

“do you know what a pike is?” batting his eyes, looking as coquettish as possible. oh my god. oh my god.

CALLING HIM JACK. i’m so unwell this is so gay.

“we’ve been brought together for a reason” oh my god he thinks they’re murder soulmates

HIS SMILLLLEE

“for eternity.” gnawing on the bars of my enclosure

not him asking her out, nigel’s gonna be PISSED

the sword to his neck 🤭 OMG THE RUNNING IT DOWN HIS SPINE WHAT THE FUCK

the way he says “jack” i’m gonna pass out

“my name is alex. stay away from me.” NOOO it’s ok nigel i’ll be your jack

taking the gay goggles off for a second nigel clearly is in desperate need of a friend and is trying so hard to make alex his friend and it’s making me super sad bc he doesn’t seem to quite understand why it’s not working :(((

but also nigel baby stop breaking into his room

it’s giving yandere tbh

“what’s with the knife” *biggest most innocent doe eyes* “i don’t know what you mean, jack”

HOLY SHIT NIGEL. I FIGURED HE WAS GONNA KILL HER BUT WHAT THE FUCK.

i feel bad for her fr tho she didn’t do nothin wrong. not her fault alex is oblivious to his psychopath boyfriend

lol alex looking around for nigel when he finds out she’s dead. he’s not stupid, i’ll give him that

HE TOOK THE KNIFE

nigel’s very bad at acting innocent

“i sense some hostility” NO REALLY

they look like they’re abt to kiss

“no jack, you did it.” babe.

“feels good to vent one’s anger doesn’t it jack””i don’t want any part of this” “too late for that”

oh he’s CRAZY

he so sure that alex is just as nuts as he is.

OHH MCKENZIE IS IN THE CLUB TOO?? INTERESTING

wtf happened to nigel’s parents

babe being cryptic is not helping your situation

OOOH ARE THEY GONNA FIND NIGEL’S LITTLE ROOM OF CREEPY SHIT

i bet his parents are dead

hehe the jack <3

his jars of dead shit are so weird

was that a drawing of the dead kid?

nigel has rly nice handwriting omg

idk if the knowledge that it’s purely for scientific interest makes the pictures of the sleeping girl better or worse

HE TAXIDERMIZED HIS PARENTS???

he calls them helen and john???

love him introducing alex like he’s his boyfriend

THE EYE CONTACT HELLO??

nigel looks so dead inside omg

“stop it, nigel :((“

OH HE MADE THE BIBLE??? i thought it was a book he had not smth he created that’s actually pretty cool

“our union” 🤨🤨 its giving marriage

“nigel was right about this” hmmm boyfriend behaviour

omg mckenzie SUCKS like he’s just kind of an asshole

“i knew you couldn’t resist a secret rendezvous <3”

“you didn’t know nigel”

DID HE FUCK HER CORPSE

“my dearest jack”

IS HE SLEEPING WITH HIS MOTHER

THE PICTURES WERE OF HIS MOTHER????

his lack of reaction to her getting shot…

SO MUCH JUST HAPPENED IN A SPAN OF 30 SECONDS

he’s so clinical about the cleanup…

he’s so pretty…

HES SO FUCKED IN THE HEAD

omg does he want jack to be his maraclea is that why he got the gun (ik his mom was his maraclea let me be delulu)

he rly thinks this is completely justified

HOLF SHIT HE PULLED THE TRIGGER

i’m so sad he’s dead :(( gimme my babygirl back

holy fuck alex got released

AND HE KEPT THE BOOK

“my beloved susan” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

“nigel got what he wanted…eternity”

OH MY FUCKING GOD J CANT BELEJEV HE DID THAT… continuing nigel’s work… oh my fucking god

“you like history.” BITCH WHAT

Edit: I forgot to give the movie a rating .-. 500/10 i fucking loved it, i’m already making a forbie playlist

#like minds #like minds 2006 #forbie #jt watches stuff