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cosmicanakin · 1 day ago

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╰ ﹒ (sorta) long awaited PART 2 to this DEAN BLURB. 🍋‍🟩

i'm shit at writing a second part to any standalone FICS or BLURBS so i'm rlly sorry if this isn't the 'makeup sex' type blurb yall were lookin' for <3

the bar is loud, filled with the familiar hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. you sit at a table near the back, surrounded by a few of your close friends—hunters like you, women who know the life, know the dangers, and are just as good at blowing off steam after a successful hunt. tonight, the drinks flow easily, and the laughter comes even easier. it's rare to get a reprieve like this, to have a night off where you can just relax and enjoy yourself. you deserve it. you know you do.

but even as your friends trade stories and jokes, your mind keeps drifting. keeps circling back to him. DEAN WINCHESTER. it's been weeks since you left him in that motel room, since you walked away without an explanation, with only a hastily written note. you haven't spoken to him since, haven't called, haven't reached out. not because you didn't want to. GOD, you wanted to. but fear held you back. fear of what he felt, of what you felt, of how everything had changed with those three words he'd let slip between gasps of pleasure.

i love you.

you still hear his voice in your head, still feel the way his body had tensed beneath you when he realized what he'd said. you'd thought about calling him a hundred times, a thousand times actually, to tell him you felt the same. that the reason you ran was because you were scared—scared of how much you loved him, how deeply you'd fallen without even realizing it. but every time you picked up the phone, you hesitated, and the moment passed.

now, sitting in this bar, surrounded by friends, you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake. if walking away from him was the worst decision you could've made. but before you can spiral any further, you hear it—a laugh. a deep, familiar laugh that sends a shock of recognition through your entire body.

you freeze, your drink halfway to your lips, as you turn your head and see him. DEAN WINCHESTER. standing at the entrance of the bar, his brother, sam, by his side. dean doesn't see you at first, too busy scanning the room, probably taking in the scene out of habit, always the hunter, always alert. but then his eyes snap to yours.

it feels like the air is sucked from the room. your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, you can't move, can't breathe. he looks just like you remember—broad shoulders, brown leather jacket, that chiseled jawline you've traced with your fingers more times than you can count. but there's something in his eyes, a flicker of something raw and unresolved, and you know he's thinking about that night, about the last time you saw each other.

he doesn't move. neither do you.

but his gaze lingers on you, even as a blonde woman sidles up to him, clearly trying to get his attention. she's pretty—tall, curvy, the kind of woman who turns heads in a place like this. but dean barely spares her a glance, his eyes locked on you like he can't tear himself away. you feel a surge of something hot and uncomfortable twist in your chest—jealousy, anger, desire. god, you miss him. you miss him so much it hurts.

and it's not just him. it's the way he made you feel, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his hands felt on your skin, rough and gentle all at once. the way he'd held you that night, the way he'd said he loved you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like he couldn’t help it.

you tear your gaze away, pretending to focus on the conversation at your table, but your mind is spinning. your body is buzzing with the awareness of him, of how close he is, of how much you want him. but the thought of facing him, of having that conversation, of admitting how you feel... it terrifies you.

so you do the only thing you can think of. you excuse yourself, telling your friends you need to use the bathroom, and slip away from the table, weaving through the crowded bar until you reach the small, dingy restroom at the back. you close the door behind you, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the cracked mirror.

your heart is racing, your skin flushed, and all you can think about is dean. about the way his muscles flexed under that leather jacket, the way he looked at you like he was starving for you. heat pools low in your belly, and filthy thoughts flood your mind—thoughts of him pressing you against the mirror, fucking you from behind until you're a mess, just like he did that night in the motel.

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it's no use. your body wants him. you want him.

and then the door creaks open.

your eyes snap open, and you see him—dean, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with that same hunger you feel. he steps inside, closing the door behind him, locking it with a click. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't move, can't speak, as he crosses the small space between you, his body heat radiating off him in waves.

he doesn't say a word. he doesn't have to.

his hands are on you in an instant, rough and desperate, pulling at your clothes, as you do the same to him. his leather jacket hits the floor, followed by your shirt, your jeans, his belt clinking as he yanks it free. his breath is hot against your neck, and he's whispering in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.

"you're such a bad girl for leaving me like that," he growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat. "but god, y'feel so fucking good... s'perfect."

his words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't stop the whimper that escapes your lips as he spins you around, pressing you against the mirror. your breath fogs the glass as his hands grip your hips, his body pressing against yours from behind. he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a force that makes your knees buckle, but his strong arms hold you steady, keep you grounded.

you're a mess beneath him, a blubbering, trembling mess as he fucks you hard and fast, his hips pistoning into yours with a desperation that matches your own. he's everywhere, all at once—his hands, his mouth, his body consuming you, and you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel.

"you're mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive in your ear. "you've always been mine."

and it's true. you know it's true. you've always been his.

you lose track of time, of how many times you come, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, your body shaking with the force of it. by the time he finally pulls out of you, you're spent, your legs trembling, your breath ragged. but dean takes care of you, cleaning you up, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he helps you back into your clothes, his touch gentle and tender, so different from the roughness of moments ago.

when you're both dressed, you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, and without thinking, you pull him into a kiss. it's not like the others—it's not fueled by lust or desperation. this kiss is soft, slow, full of something deeper, something you've been too afraid to admit 'til now.

when you finally pull away, dean looks at you, his eyes searching yours. "what was that for?" he asks, his voice quiet, vulnerable.

you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "i love you," you admit, the words catching in your throat. "and i'm sorry for leaving you like that. i was scared. but, fuck… i love you too, dean. i always have."

the smile that breaks across his face is like sunrise, brilliant and beautiful. he pulls you close again, pressing his body into yours. "yeah?"

"yeah," you whisper back. "turns out you're kind of hard to resist, winchester."

he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where you're pressed against him. "good thing i'm not trying to resist you anymore either, sweetheart."

when you eventually make your way back to the bar, sam takes one look at your slightly disheveled appearance and dean's stupid grin and rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. your friends are also giving you knowing looks, and the blonde from earlier has long since found another target.

none of that matters, because dean's hand finds yours again, and this time, neither of you are running anywhere. he also pulls you close to him again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a promise of something more.

something real.

꣑୧ UNOFFICIAL TAGLIST. @anqeliclust @aileenunfiltered @embarrasingmf @stereotypicalbarbie @ninii-winchester @suckitands33 @ohheyguyss @spxideyver @artyandink @titsout4nicholas 𓂃 ݁ 𖦹

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mapiforpresident · 17 hours ago

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hi there could i please request promt 16 with leah williamson

First Fight

Leah x reader

~~~

You had been dating Leah Williamson for about six months now. It had been everything you had imagined—fun, easy, and full of laughter. Both of you were incredibly busy with Arsenal’s season, training schedules, and matches, but you always made time for each other. You’d spend evenings together, whether it was after a tough match, over dinner, or simply lying in bed talking about everything and nothing.

But today... today was different.

It started as something small—a misunderstanding. The kind of thing that could’ve been resolved with a quick conversation. But somewhere along the way, things escalated. Tensions flared, words were exchanged, and before you knew it, you were both storming out of the room, frustrated and hurt. You hated fighting. You had never fought with Leah before. You had always been on the same page, whether it was on the field or in life, but today was different.

You were sitting on your couch now, alone in your apartment, your head buried in your hands as you replayed the argument in your mind. You hated how it ended. You didn’t want to fight with Leah. You just wanted to fix things, to understand each other better.

You had barely heard the knock on the door. The sound was soft at first, but then more insistent, and it made your heart race. You stood up quickly, your mind racing with possibilities. Could it be Leah? You didn’t know if you were ready to face her yet.

When you opened the door, there she was—Leah, standing in the hallway with a nervous expression on her face, holding a bouquet of your flowers. The soft lilacs, pale pink roses, and delicate white lilies were a perfect match to her concerned expression.

“Hi,” Leah said quietly, her voice soft, almost hesitant. She shifted on her feet, the bouquet in her hands looking out of place. She didn’t seem to know whether she should step in or wait for you to say something.

You took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. But the sight of her standing there, so vulnerable and sorry, made something in your chest ache.

“I’m sorry,” Leah continued, her voice growing steadier. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I never meant to hurt you.” She held out the flowers to you, her face sincere but tinged with sadness. “I wanted to apologize. I'm really sorry babe.”

You took the flowers, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. They were beautiful. Exactly what you needed—calming and gentle. You looked at Leah, seeing the slight tremble in her hands, the way her eyes searched yours for reassurance.

“I’m sorry too,” you finally said, your voice small. “I don’t know how it got so bad. I hate that we fought. I hate that I made you feel like... like you weren’t heard.” You could feel your throat tighten as you spoke, the emotions you had been holding back finally spilling out. “I didn’t mean for things to go like this.”

Leah stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Her hand gently cupped your face, and she leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. “I know you didn’t,” she whispered, her thumb brushing across your cheek. “I just... I let my frustrations get the better of me. You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t ever want us to fight like that again.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The warmth of her touch, the sincerity in her words—it all melted the tension that had been sitting in your chest. You pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug, feeling the softness of her hoodie against your skin.

“I hate fighting with you, Leah,” you said softly, your voice muffled by her shoulder. “I don’t want to argue like that again.”

Leah hugged you tighter, her fingers gently stroking your back. “Me neither,” she replied, her voice filled with emotion. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do. And I promise, I’ll work on listening better, being more patient.” She pulled back slightly, looking you in the eye. “I just want to be with you. And I want to keep making us work.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “I want that too.”

Leah’s smile softened, her eyes twinkling with that warmth you had come to love. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for a moment as if to reassure both of you that everything would be okay.

“I love you,” Leah said quietly, resting her forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes, the words coming easily now. “I love you too.”

You stood there for a while, just holding each other. The bouquet of flowers had been forgotten, left gently on the table, and everything felt right again. The fight, the misunderstandings—it all seemed so small now.

Finally, Leah broke the silence with a light laugh. “I’m glad you like the flowers. I was afraid I’d mess that part up.”

You laughed too, pulling away just enough to look at her. “I love them. They’re perfect.”

Leah smiled softly. “Good,” she said, taking your hand in hers. “And next time... let’s just talk things out before we get to the yelling part?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the argument lifting off your shoulders. “Deal.”

As you closed the door behind you both and went to sit on the couch, Leah rested her head on your shoulder. Everything felt right again.

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal women #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 days ago

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Hello

See Me Through You Series

You had me at hello

Synopsis: The day that you met the love of your life and didn't realize it until almost a year later

Series Masterlist

Stepping onto the sidewalk as you had just left the building where your journalism class had just ended, your phone suddenly vibrated in your back pocket. It took you a minute to grab it, seeing as both of your hands were occupied at the moment. Doing a balancing act with your purse, backpack, keys and your binder that contained your notes, but was too big to fit in your backpack, you finally had a free hand.

Pulling it out of your back pocket, you saw it was your younger twin brother by three minutes Ja'Marr calling on facetime and took no hesitation to answer it. This was his fifth call to you today and knew that about four more would come your way and the worst part about it was that it wasn't even noon.

Not that you were upset about it. If your little brother called and needed you, he always became the priority and everything would be dropped at that very moment.

“What does your ugly ass want?” You asked him as his face came into view. He promptly rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth before saying anything. You could tell that he was in the gym and was probably waiting on you to get there since you had promised to work out with him.

“If I'm ugly, so are you because we're twins, stupid!”

“No, that's what mom and dad tell you but they actually found you in a dumpster and felt sorry for you and took you in.” You told him as you laughed and started to make your way back to your car to head to your apartment that was off campus.

It was only a few miles down the road which you were thankful for and the good part is that you could also drive home to see your parents on the weekends if you wanted to.

You were relieved when Ja'Marr decided to attend LSU with you because the two of you had never been apart in your entire lives. Deep down you knew that you would have eventually adjusted to him not being at the same college as you, but also glad that you didn't have to go that route.

“Y/N!”

“Just kidding! What do you need assistance with, little one?”

“Little one? I'm 6’1 and you are BARELY 5 feet on a good day. Try again.”

You were suddenly taken aback as you saw someone come into the frame behind him and did a double take once you recognized who it was.

Growing up in a sports filled household, college football as well as the NFL was not foreign to you. You watched both of them and knew players as well as their stats forwards and backwards. So to your surprise, you were actually seeing him in real time. You heard of the transfer happening, but it was different seeing him right in front of you.

So the rumors were true, he was really here.

Joe Burrow

Who used to play for Ohio State apparently was now playing for LSU.

“Ja'Marr, I will hang up. State your business or move on.”

“I thought you were supposed to meet me at the gym to work out AND bring my headphones that I know for a fact you stole.”

“YOU CAN'T PROVE IT!”

“Hmm, funny. I recall you asking me to use them last week and I haven't seen them since.”

“I threw them away.”

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DEMAND ON STRESSING ME OUT? And I have someone here I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

“Will you just hurry up and get here and stop arguing with me!? I can pick your ass up and throw you across the room.”

“Hmm, sounds like a threat. I'm calling mommy. Bye.”

“Uh hold on, WAIT! DON'T CALL HER!”

Click.

Once back in your apartment, you quickly changed into your pink and black Fabletics workout set with your matching HOKAS and went on the search not only for Ja'Marr's headphones, but also yours. Since he let you borrow his, you didn’t bother trying to find yours even though you know you should have.

The both of you worked out with each other several times a week and it was important seeing as he played football and you were on the gymnastics team with your best friend, Erin.

Putting your curly hair into a high bun since you didn’t have time to straighten it this morning, you grabbed your wallet, water bottle, and keys before making your way back down to your car and heading to the gym.

Walking inside, you spotted him along with Joe in the corner next to the weight rack and promptly came up behind him and attempted to pick him up as you saw Joe's face giving a small smirk because of the gesture. You admit that you didn't realize how tall Joe actually was and you noticed that he was taller than Ja'Marr when they stood next to one another.

“HEY! Oh, it's just you. Joe, my big little sister by three minutes and she will never let you forget it, Y/N and Y/N this is Joe. And you are never going to be able to pick me up.” He told you while patting the top of your head as you were now trying to pick up his left leg.

“Just you watch. It's going to happen one day when you least expect it. Anyway, Hi Joe, and Ja'Marr you should know better. I already know who you are.” You told him and he looked a little confused before greeting you.

“Hey, you do gymnastics right? I saw you compete over the summer.”

You smiled before nodding, taken aback that he knew who you were also. Not a lot of attention was put on gymnastics unless it was during the Olympics. Your goal was to go to Tokyo in 2020.

“Didn't take you for a gymnastics type of guy.” You replied while attempting to fix your hair that had now fallen out of the bun you put it in. You blamed it on not being tight enough the first time.

“It's entertaining to watch.”

“Hmm, because of the outfits?” You asked as you were trying to feel him out and you could've swore you heard Ja'Marr mutter something under his breath.

“No, I just think it's insane how you can do all those different types of exercises and routines just like it's nothing. You can literally visualize where you're going to land before it happens.”

“It's the same with football when you think about it. You're a quarterback so I can imagine that before you decide where you're going to throw and who you're going to throw to what the end result will be.”

“Something like that.”

“Stop interrogating the man! Sports journalism is her major and she thinks she's smart. So she of course knows all of the players and their stats. I’m convinced she’s going to start memorizing playbooks and try to get on the field with us.” Ja'Marr said as he turned to Joe and you pinched his arm resulting in a yelp as Joe let out a small laugh.

“I'm smarter than your dumbass. That's for sure and are we going to work out or stand here all day? Besides I wasn't interrogating. You can't get to know someone unless you talk to them and ask questions.” You told him as you gave him his headphones.

“I'm ignoring you and what are we working on today?”

“Hmm full body I guess. I already did my legs, back, shoulders and arms this week.” You answered as you shrugged and put in your headphones. Flipping through your phone, you tried to find the perfect playlist in order to get through the workout and hopefully finish strong.

You usually hated working out with Ja’Marr since he would always want to add on something extra at the end of it when you were ready to go home and crawl into the bed.

Joe and Ja’Marr quickly agreed and it was decided that the three of you would warm up by running on the treadmill for three miles before going back to the weight rack.

On your second mile, your music was suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. Looking down you saw that it was Trevor, your boyfriend of one year who happened to play baseball at LSU and that was one of your primary reasons for going there. Also having your brother there was a plus.

Deep down you knew that your brother didn’t like him, but to you he was the best thing since sliced bread and could do no wrong in your eyes. But what you didn’t notice was Ja’Marr glancing over at your phone and seeing it was him and rolling his eyes.

You simply finished out your third mile before going to call him back leaving Ja’Marr there along with Joe who had turned down the speed to a brisk walk as he had done the same.

“I fucking hate her boyfriend.”

“Wait, what? He’s here too?” Joe asked as he was looking around.

“No, I saw that he called her and I’m guessing that she went to go and call him back. I can’t fucking stand him and she could do so much better. But she’s happy and the last thing I want to do is ruin that for her. He honestly treats her like shit from what I’ve seen, but I guess she doesn't see it that way.” He confessed as Joe had his eyes on you as you were standing in the corner. He figured that you were on facetime by the way you were holding it and making gestures with your hands.

“But he makes sure to never do that shit in front of me because I will take his ass down. I’m always going to protect my sister. I honestly wish that she was with someone who respected her and didn’t take her for granted like his ass does. She is honestly the sweetest most generous person despite how much we might bicker and she doesn’t deserve someone who takes her for granted. But you'll eventually be able to see how sweet she is for yourself. She literally lives up under me. When you see me, nine times out of ten she’s not too far behind.”

It was at that moment, you walked back over to them and Ja’Marr could tell that you were visibly upset.

“Pebbles, what’s wrong?” Ja’Marr asked but you simply waved him off.

Ever since you two were about six months old, your aunt on your mother's side started to call the two of you Pebbles and Bam Bam and the nicknames had stuck. It also was no coincidence since your mom used to love watching the Flintstones when she was small just like you and Ja’Marr did.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s hurry up and get this done.” You responded as you felt tears forming in your eyes and you did your best to quickly wipe them away.

“You aren't fine so don't stand up here and lie to me. Did he upset you?”

Joe could now see that he was visibly upset which was in turn making you more upset.

“Don't worry about it, I just want to get this done so I can go back to my apartment and study.”

“If you need me to kick his ass, I stay ready.”

“JA'MARR! NO!”

“And Joe will back me up too. You should see how much he can bench press. No one will know.”

“I… I appreciate both of you very much for offering even though you literally just threw Joe in there without giving him a say in the matter, but I promise I'm good.”

“I'm here for assistance if needed.” Joe said and that put a small smile on your face.

“Yeah about that, show me how much you can bench press.”

“Oh lord, Joe you got her started. Now her competitive ass is going to see if she can beat you. She might be small, but don't let that fool you. She also eats like a grown ass man.”

“Bam Bam, keep talking and I will throw that 60 pound dumbbell at your head.”

The workout was winding down and you wanted to work on your pull ups a little bit more since the upper body was your weakest area. You stood in front of the pull up bar and noticed that Ja'Marr was in the middle of his set, so the only other option was to ask Joe for help to reach the bar since there was no way in the world that you would be able to get up there on your own. But he beat you to it as he walked over to you.

“Need some help?”

“Hmm, definitely yes since there is no way in the world I'll be able to reach it by myself.” You replied as you both laughed.

“I got you. Jump up and I'll lift you the rest of the way.”

Nodding your head, you turned around and felt Joe's light touch on both of your sides. You couldn't quite explain it, but when his hands made contact with your skin, the feeling that it gave you felt unreal. Almost if it was something out of a movie. Shaking it out of your mind, you focused on the task in front of you as you jumped up.

As promised Joe helped you the rest of the way and stepped back once he saw that you were hanging onto the bar.

“Do you mind just standing there to spot me? Pull ups aren't my strongest thing.”

“Yeah, I'll be right here. Go ahead, you think you can do twenty?”

“Hmm, let's find out. I think I can.”

Fifteen of them came with ease and when you started to struggle, you once again felt Joe's hands on your waist and he helped you do the rest of them. You let go of the bar with him then catching you and placing you on your feet.

“Thank you for that.” You told him and you received a cheeky smile in return.

“Any time.”

“By the end of the semester, my plan is to be able to bench press the same weight or more weight than you.” You playfully told him and the smile that he had before became wider.

“I'd love to see that, princess. So let's put some money on it.”

“How much? 50?” You asked not really knowing how much he was willing to put up.

“Nah, you can do better than that.”

“Okay, 500.” You said as you shrugged.

“Damn, I didn't think you would go that high, but okay. Ja'Marr also mentioned to me that since you're the oldest, what you say usually goes between the two of you.”

“He's teaching you well.”

“Hmm, we'll see if that holds up between the two of us.”

“Looks like we just have to see then, won't we Burrow?”

The next day, you found yourself yawning at five in the morning absentmindedly taking small bites of your protein bar as you began to stretch with Erin coming over to sit next to you.

You hated that you had gymnastics practice so early in the day, making all of your classes be in the afternoon or late at night. The campus itself was huge and you didn't always necessarily feel completely safe when you had to walk back to your car late at night.

“So, did you break up with Trevor yet?” She asked as she began to stretch her arms.

“Uh? Good morning to you too, Erin.”

“Good morning, now did you two break up yet?”

“No, Erin.”

She sighed before rolling her eyes and looking at you in disbelief.

“Nobody likes him! Dump his ass! And I don't like the way he treats you. Truth be told, I've never liked him.”

“But I like him!” You exclaimed and she gave you a blank stare.

“Yeah, only you and his bald headed mother. You could do so much better. Oh! Who did you meet yesterday when you went to workout with Ja’Marr? I guess you fell asleep and never read my text.”

“Joe Burrow. He plays quarterback.”

“Oohh, he's cute! I heard about him transferring here. Break up with Trevor and date him! There, problem solved.”

“ERIN!”

“What? You have addressed me by my name a lot this morning. I like my plan and I think it'll work. Besides, he's a sucky ass baseball player. My goal is to get my best friend to become a WAG and being with him is not going to get you very far. He didn't even get a scholarship here. He was a walk-on!”

“I have literally only met that man one time and yeah I've said your name a lot because how do you wake up this unhinged!?”

“So? Love at first sight is an actual thing. I wasn't there, but I know it happened. And it's been that way since we were three.”

“And he did help me with my pull ups yesterday.” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm going to start planning the wedding when we leave. My class doesn't start until one today.” She replied as she smiled at you.

“I…-”

“What are you two going on about over here?” Your other friend Alisha asked as she sat her bag down to the left of her.

“Y/N is getting married to Joe Burrow! We have to start planning!”

“Erin, shut up!”

“Oh, but he's cute. Do you know if he has any brothers?” Alisha replied as she sat down on the other side of you.

“I.. don't but I will find out for you.”

“And slip them my number while we're at it.”

“He helped her during their workout yesterday. At this point, we can say it was their first date.”

“Erin telling everyone's business as usual.”

“Hey! I'm just good at storytelling! And he had the perfect view of your ass if he helped you with your pull ups now that I think about it.”

“Sometimes I honestly cannot believe you're my best friend.” You said as you couldn't contain your laughter anymore.

“And you aren't getting rid of me any time soon.”

Gymnastics practice was always long and draining so you knew what to expect every time. They typically lasted for three hours and when you were finished, you either got breakfast on campus or went back to your apartment to make something as Ja'Marr would also be blowing up your phone to feed him even though he was on an entire meal plan just like you were.

After taking a shower and throwing on some leggings along with an LSU sweatshirt and your converses, you started to walk out the building with Erin since Alisha had to hurry up to get to her class on time, when you spotted Joe.

Of course, Erin noticed too and squealed.

“Ooh, there goes your man!”

“Erin, be quiet! I don't want him to hear you! You are too loud for it to be eight in the morning!”

“Why not? And I'm always loud. I'm responsible for this love connection and I'm going to be the maid of honor. He NEEDS to know me.”

Joe had turned around and once he spotted you began making his way over.

“Oh shit, here comes your husband!”

“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”

“You'll get over it.” Erin said as she smiled.

“Morning princess. Just got out of practice?” He asked as he came up to both of you.

“Morning and yes. Now I'm going to stuff my face. Oh Joe, this is my best friend Erin.”

“Hey Erin, pleasure to meet you.”

“You too and the pleasure is all mine.” She said and you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself.

“I was actually going to get food if the two of you wanted to come with me.”

“Y/N will go! I have class but she is free ALL MORNING. So I'm going to go and Y/N, I'll text you later. Have fun you two.” Erin practically yelled and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“And then there were two. Where did you want to go to eat?” Joe asked as Erin had started to walk away.

“You're from Ohio, so you need to get a taste of some good southern cooking that makes you feel like you have just gained ten pounds.”

“Lead the way.”

“We're going on a little adventure off campus, my car is just over there. I think you'll like it.”

Less than a mile from campus was Louie's Cafe that had amazing breakfast as well as brunch foods. Anything that you could possibly think of they served.

On the ride over, the two of you just made small talk and when both of you had placed your orders for your food, you wanted to see how he was feeling for his first game that he would be playing in on Sunday because you already knew Ja'Marr was a nervous wreck.

“How are we feeling about Sunday? You nervous?” You asked as you took a small sip of orange juice.

“A little bit and I can admit it. I mean I played when I was in Ohio, but I was the backup. Now I'm actually starting. A lot of pressure on my shoulders and I feel like I have something to prove. I want them to be able to see that they made the right choice.” Joe told you and you were clinging to every word.

“But that's so exciting! What made you transfer here though out of all places?”

“I didn't want to be sitting on a bench for four years. I wanted to be able to play. I know that I'm good, but I just need a chance to show it.”

“Hmm, I do love a man with confidence. Well I'm very excited for you and my brother. I hate how you guys aren't playing here, but I'll make sure I'm watching.”

“Always confident, never cocky. And I'll try to get my first win as a starting quarterback for you.” He responded as he gave you a small smile.

“I can't wait to see it happen so once you get back here, we can celebrate. I can cook, so I can make you something.”

“I've been craving something my mom makes all the time, Snickers Salad.” Joe replied and you looked at him confused.

“Um? Is that an Ohio thing? Because I have no idea what that is.”

Joe nodded as he laughed and your waiter had set your plates down on the table in front of you.

“It is, but I can always text you the ingredients you need to make it. I figured you could do it justice since Ja'Marr never stops talking about how well you cook.”

“You need my number to be able to do that.” You Cheekily said, but he fired right back.

“Mine is in yours, already. I put mine in when we first got here since I want to be able to see more of these special spots you know about.” Joe confidently told you as he was pouring syrup on his banana pecan pancakes that had been recommended by you.

“I've literally only known you now for about 36 hours and I can say that I like being around you.”

“Good, because I like being around you too.”

Just then your phone rang and of course it was no one other than Ja'Marr.

“Pebbles! Are you at Louie's Cafe!?!? And you didn't take me!? I checked your location! I'm hungry too!”

“I took Joe instead because he doesn't get on my nerves like you do.” You told him as you stabbed your eggs.

“WAIT, you took Joe!?!?”

“Yes, say hi. You're on speaker.”

“Hey Ja'Marr.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.

“Joe, just make sure my sister gets me something to go. I'm about to starve messing with her ass.”

“I got you.”

“Bye, baby brother.”

“Wait! I didn't give you my order!”

“Text it to me, bye.”

Once you hung up and placed your phone back on the table, you looked back up at Joe to see him staring at you.

“When do you have class?”

“Not until one.”

“You want to do some more exploring with me? I feel that it's now my obligation as your unofficial tour guide.”

“I get to be around a pretty girl so I'm all for it.”

“Joe, you do know that I have a boyfriend right?” You asked as your face heated up.

“Someone as pretty as you, I'm not surprised. But what does that have to do with me?” He asked as he winked at you.

This is the first time in your life that you were speechless.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow lsu #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #joe shiesty #cincinnati bengals #nfl imagine #Spotify

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loulovingho · 7 hours ago

Text

He'd forced himself to stay out of bed until at least eight o'clock. Glancing at the clock on the wall every two minutes as he flipped through the channels on TV. He had exited out of his DVR pretty quickly. Most of the things on there were shows that Buck had recorded for them to watch together later. There was a documentary on beetles of the world that they had only gotten halfway through before they were stumbling into the bedroom, not that Tommy minded. He'd never really wanted to watch the documentary in the first place. Now he'd give anything to have Evan beside him, talking over everything the narrator said.

He wanted today to be over. Wanted to fall asleep and wake up and it be another normal day. Just Friday, November 29th. Nothing special about that.

The second it hit eight, Tommy was shutting off the TV and getting up to head to his room. He stopped as he passed the front door. He swore he could hear something on the other side of it. A rustling, mixed with someone cursing under their breath.

He sighed. He was supposed to be getting a new part for his truck delivered soon, and the guy probably tossed it, angry about having to make deliveries on Thanksgiving.

He flipped on the light before opening the door, freezing when he saw it was definitely not some random delivery guy on the other side.

"Ev- Buck? Why are... What?"

"I dropped the pie," Buck whined, scooping pumpkin pie off of Tommy's front porch and plopping it back into its container.

It took Tommy a second to understand what was happening. There was a brown bag by the door, filled to the top with containers, and a couple more containers beside it.

Then there was the pie, most of it back in the container with some smeared in Buck's hand, and remnants on the porch. There would be ants everywhere by morning. But that was a tomorrow problem.

"Here, Buck, it's fine, just-"

"You weren't supposed to come out yet," Buck explained in a bit of a panic. He was still bent over, picking at the crust on the ground. "I was gonna ring the doorbell and go before you got to the door."

"You were gonna ding dong ditch me?" Tommy asked, trying to lighten the mood. When it didn't work, he took a step closer to Buck, "Buck, seriously, it's fine. You didn't need to do all this."

Finally, Buck stood, his pumpkin covered hand held out. "Well, I know you don't wanna see me or talk to me, but I wanted you to have some of the food because when we planned everything it was with you in mind, and we had a lot leftover and I knew you wouldn't fix yourself anything and-"

"Buck, just... just come in and wash your hands, please, okay? I'll grab the food."

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'll be in and out."

Tommy stepped to the side, letting Buck in first. He grabbed up all the food and followed behind him into the kitchen. "Feels like there's enough here to feed me for a week."

"I figured you might want to take some into work with you, or freeze it or something," Buck replied, scrubbing the pumpkin off his hand.

"I appreciate it. You, um, you really didn't have to do all this. I did end up making some Thanksgiving foods for myself."

Buck huffed out a laugh. "What? Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce?" He grabbed the towel from beside the sink and turned to Tommy looking at him from across the kitchen island, his face blank and eyes a little red. Buck shook his head. "Sorry, that was mean, I- I didn't mean it to sound like that."

"It's fine. You're not wrong about that, actually."

"Still, I, uh, I shouldn't have said it like that. Sorry." He dropped the towel back by the sink and pushed himself away from the counter. "I'm gonna go, but Happy... Happy Thanksgiving, Tommy."

Tommy pursed his lips as Buck walked by, heading for the door. Part of him was saying to keep quiet, let him go. The other part told him he was an idiot if he did that.

"You are wrong about something though," he blurted, stopping Buck before he could get too far.

Buck turned back to him. "What's that?"

"I have wanted to see you, and talk to you."

They stared at each other for a moment, both of their hearts thumping in their chests.

"You have?" Buck questioned. "Could've fooled me."

Yeah, he deserved that. "Listen, are you hungry at all?" Tommy asked. "I could get this warmed up and we could eat, talk, fight, whatever. I... I feel like I left a little too soon and you deserve more of an explanation than what I gave you. No pressure though, if you wanna go, I'll understand, I just think-"

"I could eat," Buck interrupted. "As long as you mean it all. Even the fighting part."

Tommy smiled softly. "I would really, really love to fight with you this Thanksgiving, Evan."

"You sure?"

Tommy nodded.

"Okay then," Buck agreed. "I'd really, really love to fight with you too."

“The team is off this year, and you are too, so I’m going to show you what a real Thanksgiving looks like.”

That’s what Buck had told him a month ago, a late night discussion in bed at the loft, Buck’s shoulder healed enough to lie down but Tommy making no effort to leave him.

Being off for Thanksgiving was rare, both of them being off was practically a miracle. Buck was determined not to waste it.

He’d asked Tommy about what his Thanksgivings were like growing up. Tommy had told him, the first few he could remember were his dad yelling about something not being done right and his mom ending up in the bedroom crying.

After she died, there was no more Thanksgiving at all. The only thing Tommy would do, more for his mom than anything else, is make her “special homemade dressing” (a box of Stovetop), and cranberry sauce. He’d eat it alone in the kitchen while his dad downed one beer after another in his chair in the living room, watching whatever game was on.

And once he was an adult, he worked pretty much every Thanksgiving, so he didn’t think much of it.

Buck had kissed him hard after that, promised this year would be different. They’d all be at Maddie and Chimney’s place, but everyone was going to pitch in with the cooking. There would be kids running around, and games, and way too much food, and maybe once everyone else left they’d watch a Christmas movie.

Tommy played it cool, but he felt like a kid on the inside. He was so excited. He’d get to be with his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s family, which were his friends too. There would be laughter and embarrassing stories told. The kids would be getting excited for Christmas and he’d ask Jee what she was wanting so he could get her present sorted out. It would be perfect.

Tommy cleared his throat as he turned off the stove, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He set the stuffing on the back burner, letting it sit while he scooped two spoonfuls of cranberry sauce on his plate. From the fridge he grabbed a beer and set it at the table. Then he went back to the stuffing and stirred it, satisfied with the thickness. He added a bit more than a regular serving size to his plate, then walked back to the table.

From his seat he could hear the game on in the living room. If he pretended enough, he could imagine his dad in there. At least then he wouldn’t be alone.

#911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #i had to add a part two because apparently I'm 'destroying thanksgiving for everyone'#my APOLOGIES

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burningcheese-merchant · 3 days ago

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I know that it is highly unlikely that it is the case, but come and give it a thougjt with me (Yandere Spice with a twist).

What if: Burning Spice, despite being completely obsessive and being the sadomasochist he is, routinely cuts off the heads of animals and cookies and brings them to her the first time with a love letter (he used to be the Herald of Change, so I'd imagine he's got- and retained- some brains, enough to at least write a psychotic obsessive love letter).

Now, Golden Cheese is obviously gonna freak the f out and gape as he shoves the head into her arms (probably throw it into the air and back up in panic) while Burning Spice- though displeased at first, just grins manically at her reaction soon enough (maybe even laughing), before he grabs it and shoves the letter and head onto her hands again and leaving.

Golden Cheese, having noticed his reaction to her throwing it, becomes concerned with what he might do if she doesn't accept the 'gifts', decides to keep it (She flies hella fast and enters through her window and hides it in a secret compartment in her room, before creating a hidden room the other gifts in the future).

Now, here's the twist:

Despite the shock and horror she displayed to Burning Spice's gift, she knew that deep down... She fucking loved it. She silently revels in it, even. At having so much of the Beast- A cookiebeing you could practically almost consider primordial and all-powerful-'s attention and taking up so much of their headspace. To be obsessed over adored by someone like that, so much so that they would go out of their way to behead someone and something and write a love letter daily, just to give it to her as a gift-

In short, she absolutely loves the attention she will never say it and will keep that to her grave and Burning Spice and everyone else is none the wiser of it. Of how she'd kept every letter and laminated every single one with the care and cautiousness and love one would use when holding thin glass, of how she intentionally goes out alone every day for a few minutes just so Burning Spice would 'see an opening' and give his gift, where Golden Cheese would then act terribly disgusted and horrified, and then keep the gifts. Ignorant of how she has a room full of the 'gifts' he's given her- which she'd taken the time to personally taxiderm each and every one, before hanging it on the wall like a reward or trophy. Of how she'd come to the room every night to just adore it just the sight makes her want to coo and purr in delight for a few minutes to an hour, before going to bed and resting.

Sorry for the rambling and the long paragraphs 😅😅

This is such a horrifying (in a good way) concept that I MUST acknowledge it and give my take!!! Gonna put it under a cut because this is particularly dark

Yandere Spice basically acting like a cat is so fucking funny to me lol I love it

I'm so glad you think Spice is a smart guy due to having been the Herald of Change/History, because I think that too! He simply HAS to be intelligent, even wise to a degree. It would be ridiculous if he wasn't; being buff doesn't automatically mean you're dumb. And I LOVE the letter thing, I've always headcanoned Spice (the "normal" one, not the yandere one) as writing Golden romantic poetry (and her liking it lol. It helps win her over).

Now, with the murder gifts: of course Golden is horrified. Not only has Spice ended innocent lives, but he did it for her. In a way, it's her fault, and she feels horrible. Animal, person/cookie, doesn't matter, Spice has killed again and he gives the fruits of his sinful labor to her as a declaration of "love". It's sick. No matter how deranged she finds him, he finds a way to sink lower. (But... one thing: he never hurts birds. He has never once brought her a dead bird, because even he knows that's a step too far and she REALLY won't like it. It's the one little drop of care and tact that he possesses.)

But that twist: somewhere beneath all those layers of shock, disgust and righteous anger is... flattery. Sick, twisted flattery. There's nothing Golden loves more than being praised, than being worshiped, than being showered with attention and gifts... and Spice is doing that. He's feeding her ego, albeit in the worst way possible. And so great and terrible is her ego, no matter what she does to temper or suppress it, that somewhere deep down inside, she enjoys what he's doing. That he'll gladly kill for her. That he'll show off his hard work in search of her praise and admiration. She is a goddess and he knows it. He is giving her the adulation she rightfully deserves.

Now, of course, this contradicts her normally altruistic nature, and she has a massive crisis of conscience. She keeps everything Spice gives her, she keeps the heads and the letters and stores them all properly, because... Well, she tells herself that it's better this way. If she refused them, he would retaliate, if not against her then against another innocent. If she preserves the heads, she can later discover who they belonged to and hopefully return them to the person's family (and it was the least she could do; clean them up, give them back even a fraction of their grace and dignity...). If she reads the letters, she'll have better insight into his mind and how he thinks, and thus be able to formulate a better response to him and his behaviors. These excuses are what she mutters under her breath over and over as she sneaks the heads into her room, through the window so no one sees her. As she tidies and laminates the letters, and stores them in a secure folder that she tucks into a box under the bed (which eventually becomes boxes, the more and more letters she gets). As she expertly taxidermies the heads and places them on nice shelves in a hidden closet in her room. It's better this way. She has to do this.

...and these are all true, they really are. But at the same time... Existing alongside this pain and terror and crushing guilt, is the sick joy in knowing that she has someone wrapped around her finger this completely. And a Beast, too. The Beast of Destruction, no less. Burning Spice himself, heads over heels in love with her, willing to do anything to have her. It shouldn't please her to have a monster practically at her beck and call, but... it does. It really, truly does. And no matter how much she hates herself for it... It's never enough to make it stop.

Sometimes, she'll hint at a specific person she doesn't like - usually a known enemy of her kingdom - just to see if he'll do what she thinks he will. Sure enough, the next time they meet, he has that person's head ready for her, all but puffing his chest out in pride and grinning that hideous, face-splitting, cruel grin of his. She acts upset, but she's actually pleased to know that she was right: he WILL do what she tells him to, just to please her.

Sometimes she'll stand there admiring her ever-expanding taxidermy collection, congratulating herself on her hard work; she does a better and better job every time. (And when the guilt comes bubbling to the surface, asking her why they're still here and not with their loved ones so they can have a proper funeral, she tells it that Spice will lose it if he catches her giving them away. Or she'll be made out to be the one responsible, since she's the one who has them. Or they're dead, their souls have departed to the afterlife, what happens to their mortal vessels matters not anymore...)

Sometimes, when she's in bed at night, she'll pull out the letters and read them. Sometimes she'll read one, sometimes a few, sometimes all of them. Some are surprisingly sweet and romantic, full of oddly gentle and doting words; she can feel the warmth and affection soaked into the page. Others are downright vulgar; she feels her own face catch fire as she reads through what are obviously his fantasies, the list of ways in which he wants to pleasure her so long and graphic that she suspects he wrote them one-handed, if you know what I mean. The rest are just flat-out deranged: feverish rants about his ownership of her, how he hated and wanted to get rid of those around her, how she took everything from him (his power, his sanity, his heart, his soul) and he was willing to pardon it if she gave him everything of hers in turn. How he will never stop hunting her. How he will slaughter thousands to get to her. How he will bring the world to ruins just to have her to himself. Madness. All-consuming delusion that she fears is incurable.

But the worst part is... she doesn't know if she wants it to be anymore.

All she can do now is... hope he never finds out. Hope he never knows she feels this way. That she relishes his kills, his gifts. That she has a godforsaken trophy room now. That now she's as starved for his attention as he is for hers. (And he will. The idea is simply too tantalizing. He WILL find out eventually, someway, somehow - and when he does... Oh boy.)

TL;DR: Golden is so greedy that her greed has warped her into being as bad as Spice, at least in her own way. They probably deserve each other at this point. Pure, incorrigible arrogance and psychopathy all the way down. God/Witches have mercy on us all

#thank you SO much for this ask. What a fantastic(ally awful) idea. I had a blast with this #Imagine being whittled down mentally by your tormentor to the point that you start stooping to their level in some way...#...and you end up so far gone that you're not even sorry about it.#FANTASTIC. PURE UNDILUTED TOXICITY. YOU LOVE TO SEE IT #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #yandere beasts #suggestive

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ssentimentals · 2 days ago

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Hi can I reuqest number 27 for mingyu and can you please make it like he's late to some date in his rs thank you!!

hi, hun! i assume it's from hurt prompts, because it's the only one that fits the 'late to date' part. hopefully i'm correct! 💜

hurt prompt: 'you're late.'

you wish you could be a bigger person about this. you wish you could be calm and understanding in this situation, but shame runs high along with humilation in your veins and by the time mingyu stumbles into the restaurant with hurried footsteps and dejected look on his face, you can't find it within yourself not to snap: 'you're late.'

mingyu takes a deep breath, looking a bit dishieveled after the run. he grabs the back of the chair and nods, looking apologetic. 'i'm sorry, baby, really sorry. got caught up at work and then at stupid traffic.'

it's a perfectly reasonable excuse. and you know that mingyu is not lying, so maybe being mad over it is not the best choice, but you waited here for thirty minutes all alone and pitying looks from waiters made your skin crawl and- 'it's our anniversary.' you point out, watching as mingyu settles comfortably in front of you, grabbing the menu. 'i waited for thirty minutes here.'

mingyu looks up and pouts. he reaches out for your hand across the table, taking it in his and squeezing. 'i didn't mean to. sorry, babe. it won't happen again, okay?' he sends you million dollar smile next, looking back at the menu. 'but let's celebrate now. have you ordered anything? i heard this place is the best for meat.'

lump in the throat is making it hard for you to swallow or to speak. you stare at your boyfriend, thinking when have you let this become normal. when did you slip? when did he get too comfortable? 'no flowers?' you ask, trying not to cry. 'no present?' your present for him is under your chair, but all you want to do with it right now is throw it into the bin.

'oh, about that,' mingyu looks up, smiling. 'i thought what could i get you and then realized that i can just take you shopping, babe. you can choose whatever you want. sounds good, yeah?' mingyu notices stiffness in your posture and sighs. 'i already apologized babe. i said it won't happen again.'

'yes.' you nod and stand up, feeling how hysterics are about to start any moment now. 'it won't happen again, mingyu. have a good dinner.' you grab your bag and his present under your chair. 'alone.'

mingyu is too stunned to even move as you turn and walk away. you catch one of the waiters nodding at you in approval and this makes few tears run down your face. you move on autopilot, still in disbelief how he doesn't run to come and get you.

'it's for better,' another woman - short blonde waiter - opening the door for you.

right now it feels like your heart is being torn apart by the hands of the person you loved the most. but maybe - you take a deep breath - maybe it really is for better.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagine #svt mingyu #seventeen mingyu #seventeen mingyu imagine #seventeen mingyu x reader #svt mingyu x reader #svt mingyu imagine #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen prompt #seventeen angst

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ahintofchaos · 2 days ago

Text

Solace with You

Summary:

After a frustrating day at work, you come home to Agatha's endless love for you. Domestic fluff and some silliness. And an appearance from Senor Scratchy, because he's of course in my post-canon personal canon.

I'm pretty sure this is just 2700 words of weapons-grade fluff.

“Aggie?”

“Upstairs, darling!”

She must be in your bedroom. You don’t even bother to hang up your coat, just tossing it over the back of the couch on your way to the stairs. You hustle up the stairs, your shoes clomping on the wooden treads. You forgot to take them off at the door. Usually it’s Agatha who’s always bringing her shoes upstairs. Then of course getting mad when she can’t find them again. You kick off your shoes as you walk down the hall, leaving them strewn around. You’ll collect them later. Right now, you couldn’t care less. You stopped in the doorway of your shared bedroom, bracing a hand on the doorframe.

Agatha was laying on top of the freshly made bed, book in hand. She looked up when she heard you arrive. “Hi, hon. How was work?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh in response.

“Aw, bad day?”

You shrugged. “Long. Frustrating.”

Agatha tsked. “I’m sorry baby, that’s the worst. C’mere.” She patted your side of the bed, and you needed no further invitation, hopping onto the plush mattress and leaning back against the pillows. Agatha looped one arm around you, the other still holding her now forgotten book. You leaned your head on her shoulder, breathing in the familiar comforting scent of her. Lavender and a tiny bit of smoke.

“You did some magic today,” you said. It was more of a statement than a question. Her magic always left her smelling slightly fiery.

Agatha hummed an affirmative. “Practiced some spells. Figured out how to enchant the stove to always ignite.”

“Ooh, thank you.” You nuzzled your face against the side of her neck, feeling her smile at the brush of your nose against her sensitive spots. Even with the comfort Agatha always provided you, you couldn’t shake the feelings of unfulfillment and dissatisfaction that had followed you all day. You breathed in deep, trying to collect all the tension in your body and let it out in one big sigh. It helped, but not completely.

Agatha turned to kiss the side of your head. “What’s got you frustrated, baby?”

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “Everything? I feel so restless and blocked. Like I’m trying to do something but I can’t figure out what it is or how to do it. The ideas won’t come, even though I want them to. I feel very ineffective. I want to write and do things, but I can’t right now and I don’t know why!” You were almost at a whine, thoroughly overwhelmed by your brain’s refusal to cooperate today.

Agatha smoothed her hand over your hair. “My poor baby. Tell you what. You go ahead and turn your pretty little brain off for the rest of today, and I will take care of everything.”

“Mm, that sounds good.”

“You’re working too hard, hon. You’ve got to give your mind a rest sometimes."

You swallowed. “I feel stupid right now, Aggie.”

“Hush. Don’t talk like that. You’re brilliant. You’re an incredibly talented, wildly capable, absolutely brilliant person. You are a treasure. My treasure.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of her throat. “Thank you.”

“Come here, my love.” Agatha put her finger under your chin, lifting your head so you could meet her eyes. She leaned her forehead to yours for a moment before meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

Kissing Agatha was almost always the cure for what ailed you. You could kiss her every minute of the day and still want more. Luckily for you, she felt the same.

Her lips on yours helped lift a weight off your shoulders that you hadn’t realized you were carrying. After a long moment, you separated with a soft smile on your face.

“There, that’s what I like to see,” Agatha said softly. She slid off the bed, keeping her arms out to tell you to stay. You pouted.

“I wanna stay with you.”

Agatha smiled at this, and reached across the bed to scoop you closer to her. “Well then, come on, my love. We’re making some tea and dinner.”

You clasped Agatha’s hand as she led you downstairs to the kitchen. Senor Scratchy was lounging in the window seat, and perked his ears up when he saw you come in. You separated from Agatha long enough to kiss him on his fuzzy head, then rejoined her in the kitchen. She waved her hand at the stove, lighting it instantly with bright purple flames. No sooner had she filled the kettle and set it on the burner did it start to whistle. “Showoff,” you murmured. Agatha smirked. She poured some loose tea into a strainer, then placed it in your favorite mug.

You received your tea with grateful hands. The warmth of the cup pressed against your palms helped to smooth some of your agitation. Slowly but surely Agatha was working her magic on you. Not real magic, no incantations or spells, but her incredible knack for calming you no matter what. You could weather anything by her side, you were sure of it. For all of her fire and passion, she was hopelessly devoted to you, and her presence was a steadiness you could always rely on.

Agatha prepared dinner for each of you, then shuttled you over to the couch. You flopped onto it as dramatically as you could without spilling your tea, and Agatha set the food down on the coffee table before draping a midnight blue blanket over the two of you, making sure to tuck it around your legs securely. She wrapped her arm around you, coaxing you to lean into her, which you did without much effort on her part.

She kissed the top of your head. “There we go, darling. All cozy?”

You nodded, your eyes closed in contentment. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You hummed in contentment, then stopped. “Your book,” you said, “it’s still upstairs.”

Agatha turned to look at you. “So?”

“I interrupted your reading. Do you want me to go get it?”

“Absolutely not, honey. You’re relaxing. We’re both relaxing. No pesky spellbooks right now.” She waved her hand, bringing your plates closer to you with magic. You giggled at her. Agatha took her fork and raised it to your lips, allowing you to taste. You liked cooking, but you adored everything Agatha made. You always told her that her food was better because it was made with love. She called you a sap. You absolutely were, there was no denying it. Agatha Harkness was your moon and stars.

Eventually, the warm tea and dinner lulled you into a sleepy post-meal state, and you curled up further against Agatha, who welcomed the press of your body against hers. You closed your eyes, feeling her soft sweater against your cheek and the thrum of her heart underneath. “I love you,” you said, barely above a whisper. Agatha brought her hand up to hold your face against her chest, leaning down to give you a kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart. So much.”

Finally, all the stress of your day began to pour out, and tears began to fall. They slid down your face and soaked into Agatha’s sweater. You shook with tiny, tired sobs, and Agatha smoothed her thumb over your cheek, catching your tears as they fell.

“Aw, my love. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Agatha Harkness, the most powerful witch of recent history, was holding you as you cried out your frustrations about a stupid day at work. You, a regular-by-comparison eclectic witch with a regular job, had captured the heart of a veritable force of nature. You were so endlessly lucky to have her. You told her so.

“No, my love. I’m the lucky one. I’ve got the most gentle, talented, compassionate witch by my side. I would do anything for you. You’re my whole heart.”

You pressed your face harder against her chest, moving so your legs were across her lap. Agatha welcomed the feeling, looping her other arm over your legs and tracing circles and what you faintly recognized as protective runes on the fabric of your pants.

Eventually, your tears subsided. Agatha never let up on her hold, the gentle pressure of her body against yours and her arms around you keeping you safe and sound. She put a finger under your chin to tilt your head up. “Better?”

You nodded. You felt lighter than you had all day. “Can we go upstairs now? I’m tired.” As if to prove your point, you yawned heartily.

“Of course, my love,” Agatha said. As you moved to slide off her lap, she instead tightened her hold on your body. You barely had time to open your mouth to ask her why when she scooped you up, one hand around your back and the other under your legs. You shrieked, wrapping your arms around her neck and laughing at her antics. Agatha squeezed you close, bending her face down to yours, before carrying you back upstairs to your bedroom.

She tossed you onto the bed with enough force that you bounced, causing you to laugh again. The sound delighted her.

Agatha was completely in love with you. This wasn’t the early impulsive love of teenagers or new lovers; no, this was a bone-deep understanding that she was entirely yours, and you were entirely hers. She had never been one for vulnerability or emotions, and she still wasn’t when it came to other people, but you she kept nestled close to her heart, on the inside of all the walls she kept around herself. She lived for you, lived for holding you and loving you and tending to your every need. Soaking up your love just the same. Agatha had done a lot of things in her life, both good and very bad, and this, getting to be with you, being forever committed to you and having you forever committed to her in turn, was the greatest cosmic reward she could fathom.

Lost in thought, Agatha stared at you, flopped back on the bed, still in your work clothes. You propped yourself up on your elbows, giving her an inquisitive look. “Earth to Agatha,” you singsonged.

Agatha promptly pounced on you on the bed. “I’m admiring my love. Admiring every single thing about you. Listing them takes a while, honey. There are lots of things to love.”

You swatted her arm. “Please.”

Agatha kissed your nose, then clambered back off the bed, turning to your wardrobe and picking out two pairs of pajamas, tossing them at your head. You were surprised by the first pair, which hit you squarely in the face, but managed to catch the second pair. Who would’ve thought that the big, bad Agatha Harkness would pick out matching pajamas?

Before you could return the favor and pelt her with the clothing, Agatha seized your wrists and pulled you off the bed and into your bathroom, where she snapped her fingers and a luxurious bubble bath was waiting for you. You almost moaned at the sight, and Agatha smirked at you.

“Pervert,” you said. She grinned and winked. Before you knew it, you were both naked, your clothes nicely folded on the edge of the bathroom counter. You stopped to look at Agatha, to just drink her in. You couldn’t imagine a more beautiful thing if you tried for the rest of your life. Agatha caught you staring.

“Now who’s a pervert?”

“Still you,” you said, brushing past her to get into the tub. She rewarded you with a smack to your bare ass, causing you to jump. You whirled around to admonish her and were met with her perfectly mischievous cackle. “You’re naughty,” you said, eyes fixed on her as you lowered yourself into the water.

“Mm, you know me,” Agatha teased, “insatiable.”

The mood was gone as quickly as it had come, the both of you succumbing to the deep relaxation of the warm water of the bath and the press of each other’s bodies, Agatha’s behind yours.

“I miss you when you’re at work,” she told you, resting her chin on your shoulder. You could’ve melted.

“I know my love, but it gives me something to do. I like it. Plus, you have time for your activities too.”

“Well, I’m glad my sweetheart has hobbies. That’s very important. I don’t like when they stress you out, though.”

You heaved a sigh. “Everything has its challenges.”

“That’s true. And I’m always here to make them better.”

“And you’re so good at it,” you tell her, leaning backward to kiss her sweet soft lips. She allows it for a moment before returning to her task. She takes the soap you love so much and lathers it in her hands, spreading it across your back and using it to massage your tired muscles. She works her way from your neck and shoulders down, then down both arms. Your head lolls back on her shoulder as she brings your hand above the water, fingers softly kneading your palms, working over every tendon.

“You’re so good to me,” you tell her, barely at a whisper.

Agatha doesn’t say anything, and you know she’s taken the compliment to heart. You’ve made it your mission to make her absolutely convinced of her own worth. It’s an uphill battle; before you, no one in her life had loved her for her, only for what she could do. But you’ll gladly spend every single day telling her. Over and over again.

Agatha hums, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder above the water. “Come on, my love. We’re going to be prunes.” She stands up behind you and helps you to your feet, wrapping you in a soft towel. You turn to kiss her, and she obliges happily.

You shuffle out to your bedroom and change into your pajamas, a purple set that matches Agatha’s. She’s not far behind you, and once you’re both dressed she motions for you to sit in front of her.

“Braid?”

“Sure,” you say, settling on the bed with your legs crossed. Agatha’s centuries of life have made her uncommonly good at doing hair; she’s often had to make do with plain clothes, but her hair has always been a thing she can use to express herself. Now, it translates into her caring for both of your hair, and taking great pride in doing this for you as often as she can. Her nimble fingers dance through your hair, gently smoothing any tangles she comes across, and before you know it she’s tying it off at the end. She pulls you back into her, pressing her mouth to the top of your head like she’s going to kiss you. Instead she just stays, inhaling the smell of your hair. Her arms loosen eventually, and she lets you move over so you’re not laying directly on top of her anymore.

You slide over so you’re laying on your side of the bed, keeping your legs tangled with hers. Agatha stays sitting up against the headboard, looking down at you with unrestrained fondness. You can’t believe your luck, being loved by the most powerful being in history. Having just as much of a claim to her as she has to you. You’re sure you have stars in your eyes right now, and you can see that she does too.

As if she can read your thoughts, Agatha says, “I love you so much.”

“Even when I’m being a baby about stupid work things?”

“It’s not stupid,” she says. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid.”

“You’re my favorite,” you tell her, draping an arm over her hips and tracing the soft skin between her shirt and her shorts.

Agatha smiles. “Good, because you’re my favorite too. My little precious baby, to love forever.” She gets under the covers with you, laying her head on her pillow so she’s on your level. She pulls you in so that your head is resting on her chest, feeling the gentle thump of her heart and the movement of her breathing.

“My Aggie.” Agatha hums at that. It’s one of her favorite things to hear.

“My heart,” she murmurs. You feel the rumble of her voice as she speaks. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

You try to reply, but you’re too far into sleep to form the words. Curled up against the love of your life, you sleep safe and sound.

____________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you have any requests.

Taglist: @polaris-likethestar

*if you'd like to be added to the taglist for Agatha x Reader, reply to this fic!

#agatha all along #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #my tag- Agatha #soft agatha #wife Agatha #fluff #domesticity #hurt/comfort

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adalitas-coffeebreak-corner · 15 hours ago

Text

The twin swap pt. 1

Sirius Black x potter!fem!reader

In an attempt to prank your twin brother James, you suddently find yourself in a situation where you can no longer ignore your feelings for your brothers best friend.

Warnings: nothing really besides reader bodyswapping with James, tiny bit of swearing, and excessive yearning because we know the Potters are hopeless romantics. Hope you enjoy.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆♡☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This had gone way too far,

Sirius standing in front of you half naked, his pyjamas pants hanging just low enough to see the outline of his-

"Are you alright Potter?" Your eyes snap up to meet his silvery dark ones, framed perfectly by his dark brows.

You feel hot, all the blood rushing to your head, your palms are sweaty and you almost don't notice the ringing sound in your ears, as you mutter out a, hopefully, coherent response of yes i'm grand.

Sirius smiles, apparently somewhat pleased with your answer, as he continues chatting with Remus and Peter, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

His soft, plump lips that you have been dreaming of touching since fourth year. You never really thought smoking was sexy until you saw how well Sirius pulled it off, which prompted many, many daydreams about you plucking that cigarette from his lips and just softly crane your neck to make your lips touch-

"Prongs, you're starting to freak me out mate"

Oh, right- you're currently stuck in your twinbrothers body, sitting on his bed in the boys dormitory.

Remus lowers his book from his place in the windowsill, giving you a strange glare as the adrenaline returns throughout your (james') body, making you once again stumble over your words.

"Sirius is right James, you look rather sickly and- are you blushing?" Peter chimes in sitting on his bed.

"Oh, no no, i'm okay, sorry carry on" you respond as you force yourself to lower your gaze, mentally kicking yourself. The boys share a glaze or two, but ultimately let it lie, starting back up their conversation.

This whole stupid idea started as a prank on your brother, but by some stupid twist of fate, or maybe even some strange twin telepathy, James had the exact same prank planned, which was showing up in the commonroom as you, using polyjuice potion.

The prank quickly extended to your friends, both of you wanting to see if any of them would notice your swap at dinner. Unfortunately nobody did, which in turn made you frown.

Are we really that similiar?

Can Sirius not even tell you two apart?

Needles to say, by the time you were ready to reveal your true identities, you had fallen too deep into your own prank, the boys almost dragging you up to the dorm, you just barely had time to exchange a panicked glance with James, who was in a similar situation with Lily, Marlene and Mary.

Now you just have to act normal until the boys fall asleep, then go find James.

Thats simple enough, right?

You are so lost in thought you honestly don't notice your eyes connecting with Sirius' for the third time in the span of fifteen minutes. But by the time you do notice, its too late and he's talking to you again, oh merlin you haven't heard what he said, and now the attention of all the boys are on you again.

What the hell is wrong with you? Just say something that James would say

Remus lets out a nervous chuckle, making you panic even more somehow.

Okay Potter, you can do this. Just make up some excuse to go wait this out in the bathroom.

Deep breath and hit them with a totally normal thing Jamie would say.

"I'm gonna go, bathroom, you know.. penis"

Shit

Sirius and Peter look equally perplexed and poor Rem looks absolutely horrified, as their wide eyes follow your ungraceful attempt to flee towards the bathroom, trying your best at manoeuvring your longer limps, and finally locking yourself away.

As soon as you hear the lock click, you slide down the door putting your head in your hands. You sincerly hope James is doing way better at pretending to be you, even though you doubt it, seeing as Lily is gonna be there.

You sigh deeply, muttering quiet curses at yourself, debating whether or not you should make a run for it, or stay locked in here until the potion subsides.

"James, talk to us please"

Sirius' voice startles you, making you shoot up from your position on the floor, almost knocking your head against the celling, letting out a yelp.

Is James really this tall?

"Prongs, if you need someone to talk to you know we're right here mate" Remus agknowledge sympathetically, causing you to feel a little guilty, making a mental note to buy him extra chocolate at Honeydukes, next time you make the trip. That is, if you don't die from embarrassment in this tile covered cage of shame.

"Even if it's, erh, penis related" Peter announced, earning a light smack from Sirius.

It occurred to you that you need to face the boys again, in order to get ahold of James, so you sigh and relent, shutting your eyes tight.

Might as well tell them how you really feel.

"Nothing is really going according to plan" you chuckle speaking up again, more somberly this time.

"I feel this suffocating pressure just to push everything down and lock it away, because there is no way Si- she will reciprocate my feelings, you know, erhm Lily. I thought I could ignore it, but for some reason I can't seem to." You trailed off, opening your eyes when you were meet with a few seconds of silence.

Immediately you're wondering if you went too real with it, do boys even talk to each other like that? Did they notice your slip up?

But on the other hand, it feels natural to talk with them like this. Since first year Remus, Sirius and Peter has always been your brothers friends first, yours second. He's more or less the glue keeping them together, and you're just his sister, someone they tolerate because of James.

Which ofcourse makes your infatuation with Sirius quite difficult.

Who would want to date their best mates sister? Not even mentioning the fact that James will have a fit, if he ever finds out just how much in love with Sirius you are.

For merlins sake.

Against your better judgement, you open the wooden door, awaiting their reactions, half expecting them to mock you.

Immediately you're tackled by Sirius who's pulling you into a hug, which is so comforting, and oh god he's still shirtless.

"Thank you for sharing that" Remus extends his hand to your shoulder offering you a gloomy smile.

A few seconds later Sirius releases you from his grip, you grimace slightly finding that you are missing his warmth already.

"Let's just go to sleep, I'll feel better in the morning" you whisper, closing the door behind you. The boys nodd, silently agreeing.

_____________________

You've been painfully awake for about an hour now, wanting to be completely sure the boys are fast asleep before you sneak out.

The floor is cold beneath your feet, tiptoeing to freedom, the darkness almost hindering you in finding the handle. A few seconds later you desend down the stairs victorius, relief rushing over you, as you spot James (or rather youself) sitting on the couch.

"Where have you been?" James hisses as soon as you plop down next to him.

"Relax, I couldn't get away until now" you explain.

"This was a very bad idea" James groans, looking rather adorable in his current position with his arms crossed.

"Tell me about it" you agree running your hand over your face, after handing him his glasses back as he mutters a quiet thank you.

You both sit in silence for a bit, until you ask him how his evening went. The commonroom is dimly lit by the orange and yellow nuances from the fireplace, the warmth offering you both much needed comfort.

"Well, not ideal" James hesitated.

"Or rather it was going really well until Lily went to change into her pyjamas" He covered his face, blushing at the memory.

"James Fleamont Potter" Shock overtaking your features, but before you could scold him, he interrups you.

"Don't worry, I didn't see anything"

"Good"

"because I fainted"

"YOU WHAT"

"Lower your voice" he snaps back, slumping his shoulders, looking around the empty commonroom wearily.

"It's fine, I played it off as a period thing"

At this point you're flabbergasted, not even wanting to agknowledge your twins basic lack of understanding about female anatomy, so you let it go. You'll have to deal with this in the morning...

#remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #harry potter #sirius black x reader #marauders fanfiction #peter pettigrew #self insert #james potter #potter!reader

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not-rigel · 18 hours ago

Text

The color Blue

warnings: SAD, I cried writing this, sevika mourning isha, descriptions of grief

WC: 830

Sevika is sitting in her office, sifting through documents when theres a knock at her door. She grants whoever is there entry. They enter the room carrying a package, it's an expensive looking box and Sevika rolls her eyes at how gaudy it looks. Leave it to Piltover to make their packages fancy for no good reason.

"From the Kirraman estate," the delivery person tells her. She hasn't interacted with Caitlyn in months, not since they fought deep in the underground. The arrival of a package puzzles her. But she's had too a long day of failing to agree with the other councilmembers to care too much about anything right now.

Sevika nods to a chair, "Set it over there."

The delivery person sets the box onto the chair then hurriedly leaves the room. Sevika resumes reading over the documents until her eyes hurt and her head aches. She was questioning her strength, how much longer she could handle councilors barring her progress whenever they could. Everytime she felt she was making strides in securing Zaun's future, they'd band against her and dismiss her proposals. She could handle their looks of disgust, she could handle when they mentioned her past with Silco, but she couldn't handle the pressure. She has to do something right by her people or what was the point in being a councilor at all?

Sevika shoves all the papers from her desk, dispirited from all her recent failures. She was so alone and she was falling apart all over again, just like when Silco died. She shoves the emotion down, not allowing herself to feel it until she was ready to unbox it.

Sevika looks over at the package, thinking that she might need the distraction. She leaves her desk, walking over to the chair the box in sat in. She has some trouble getting it open, only having one arm. She can't wear her mechanical arm while up Topside, it's been considered a weapon and banned.

Eventually the package breaks open and what's inside breaks her. Her entire body is uncomfortably hot, like someone replaced all her blood with lightning. Inside the box was Isha's little hat. It was more tattered and torn than it was the last time she saw it. Gods, what did her little baby go through? Tucked next to her hat, was a letter.

Sevika plucks the letter from the box, unfolding the paper to read the contents.

"I went back to where it happened. Not that I could change anything but just to remember. I ended up finding this and I couldn't just leave it there. I'm sorry I couldnt save her. I heard what she is to you so maybe you need this more than I do.

-Vi"

The note begins to blur then Sevika realizes she is crying. Her tears continue to obscure her vision and wet the letter, smudging the words. She tries to wipe them away with her wrist but new tears replace them immediately.

She can't do this right now, can't have these emotions. She can't breathe. Each word on the paper, each feeling she shoved below her chest came back without permission to choke her. They wrapped their fingers around her throat and wouldn't let go, no matter how much she scratched at then. She needs to fight this off, needs to survive the threat trying to kill her.

Sevika throws her body around, throws anything she can grab. There's no point in it, just run and push and shove until the grief releases its chokehold. But it's not letting go. She can't hear the bookshelf crashing onto the floor, just sees her hand shoving item after item. This usually worked, why wasn't it working this time?

The grief weakens her and she sinks into the floor, not able to stop the tears. It's the worst pain she's felt. But as soon as she lays on the floor, grabbing Isha's hat from where she left it and holds it to her chest, the grief stops choking her. Instead it hugs her back. Isha was too sweet, too beautiful.

Sevika reminisced the moments they had together. Where Isha would fall asleep in her arms, head resting on her shoulder. When Sevika would tease Isha for practically being Jinx's shadow. How Isha mimicked Sevika, making a little cardboard arm to fit over her own and they'd playfight.

Sevika is so proud of Isha but so angry that she was so familiar with violence. Sevika tried all she could to keep her away from it. But that little girl couldnt stay away. Or maybe violence couldnt stay away from her. Maybe violence chased Isha until peace took her.

Sevika forgets time as she remembers Isha for the first time, thinking of every beautiful thing that little girl was. Isha was the color blue. Isha was little rabbit ears. Isha was a head nuzzling into her shoulder. Isha was the reason Sevika fought. Isha is the reason Sevika fights.

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika fic #sevika and isha #isha arcane

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rivendell-poet · 3 days ago

Note

Hey! I wanted to start off by saying I ADORE your writing!

I was wondering if you’d write a first kiss list for thorin’s company like you did with the fellowship? I think it’d be so cute with a human reader who’s pretty short, she’d be around 5’1”-5’2”-ish?

Hope you have an absolutely wonderful rest of your day love, happy writing! 💝☺️

Hi! Sorry it's still taking me so long to clear my inbox, but I'm slowly getting there. I hope you have a wonderful day as well darling ❤️

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○ Bilbo ○

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 1.1k | TWs : None

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

✧ Thankfully, he’s just tall enough to be able to kiss you without you needing to bend down. A fact that, when the two of you are together, his mind keeps trying to remind him of.

✧ But he wants to make sure that it’s a special moment, a moment worthy of the two of you.

✧ Eventually, it happens when he’s first showing you the Halls of Erebor for the first time.

✧ The feeling of happiness is finally all around, almost infectious, and he can see the wonder in your eyes as you look around at everything else.

✧ Looking around at the treasure, you can finally appreciate its beauty. There’s a grin on your face; all that you’d worked for is finally coming to fruition.

✧ And then you turn around, and Thorin is standing directly behind you.

✧ There’s love in his eyes - but it isn’t directed at the treasure hoard. It’s directed at you.

✧ Stepping forward, he bridges the gap between you and looks slightly up.

✧ Leaning forward as you well, the two of you kiss.

✧ Even in the Halls of Erebor, the most perfect thing in their (to him) is you.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ The two of you had been dancing around each other for a while, when he’d finally confessed.

✧ And now the two of you are dancing around your first kiss.

✧ Every now and then the moment seems almost perfect, but something interrupts you. And in the end it’s not the moment you were expecting at all.

✧ Kíli and Tauriel are spending slightly too much time together for your liking, although at least it means you and Fíli both have something to laugh and tease about.

✧ It’s then, when you’re laughing about it, that you mention something about them kissing.

✧ The comment is so small, but somehow - amid the laughter - the two of you catch each other's eyes.

✧ And the gap somehow closes, him enclosing more quickly and moving as fast as he can to close the gap.

✧ When you properly kiss he isn’t quite needy, but there’s something passionate in it, and both of you recognise how much the other wants this.

✧ After a few seconds he pulls away, his mouth about to ask a question. If you wanted it, if you enjoyed it as much as he does.

✧ Kissing him again is your way of answering ‘yes’.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ He tries not to make it too obvious how much he wants to kiss you, although it’s fairly obvious.

✧ At first the glances are more subtle - less noticeable more because of how much his eyes flitted around, not wanting to be seen staring at you.

✧ But as you grow more comfortable around each other, and he stares, he doesn’t look away as soon as you realise. Instead he blushes, giving a sheepish grin before turning.

✧ The two of you are talking together, and you feel his gaze briefly go to your lips. His cheeks begin to go pink again, but this time you will Kíli not to look away.

✧ And he doesn’t.

✧ Leaning slightly closer, he takes a deep breath, “May I- please?”

✧ “Yes.” You barely breath back, but it’s still your lips that press to his first (although he’s the one to deepen it).

✧ Eventually coming apart Kíli‘s eyes are shining, and his whole face is glowing with a smile. “You’re… perfect.”

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ You notice him staring as well, although the warrior has much more decency. He still blushes just as much, but he looks away quickly as well - sometimes with a muttered apology.

✧ He’s also tall enough for you to not have to bend over to kiss him. A fact that comes into his mind slightly too often for his liking.

✧ Dwalin truly doesn’t try to imagine kissing you, even when you begin courting. He wants to take this slowly, to be a gentleman.

✧ And, in the end, it’s you who initiates the contact.

✧ There’s only a few steps between you when you suddenly step forward more, before the words catch in your throat.

✧ But your intention is clear, and as he moves slightly closer you don’t move away. Gently, the two of you both move into each other to close the gap - his hands light going up into your hair, and of course you don’t mind.

✧ During the kiss he’s ever so light with his touch, it’s up to you to deepen it. You can tell he wants a little more, but that he’ll always wait for you. And with a second kiss you reassure him that you want this too.

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ Early in the relationship, it becomes obvious the two of you want to kiss. That there’s not too much he’d like more, especially now that the two of you are courting.

✧ But he’s still too shy to initiate it, instead the two of you sharing glances or the occasional touch that’s a second too short.

✧ Eventually, you accidentally drop something and he catches it - holding it up to you while only being a few steps away.

✧ “(Y/n)?” He prompts, before realising why you haven’t pulled away.

✧ He stays still, for a second, and then he leans in as you do. When the two of you meet he’s gentle, but he matches your pressure - and you can feel his love, his tenderness, his caring.

✧ Eventually pulling away you can see his smile, can feel his lingering touch.

✧ “I wish I hadn’t waited so long, now.”

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨

✧ It’s been around two weeks since the two of you have started courting, and neither of you have brought it up. Although Bilbo would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it.

✧ Honestly, it was something he was slightly worried about. Not being able to make a romantic gesture to you, or to be able to sweep you off your feet. Not with a kiss, at least.

✧ As the two of you are on your date, he can feel some confidence come to him. And as he looks to you, he can feel his breath hitch for a second. How can he ask a creature as perfect as you to bless him?

✧ Noticing his gaze, you turn to him as well. “Yes, Bilbo?”

✧ “I-” Suddenly he’s hyper aware of how hot his cheeks are, of the distance between the two of you. “I would like… to able to kiss you. Or for you to kiss me, if you could. It’s not something you-”

✧ You can sense the beginning of a ramble, and leaning down slightly you do exactly what he asks.

✧ There’s a second as he almost seems shocked before instantly leaning up to you, getting as close as he can, staying this close to you for as long as he can as well.

✧ “I…. well, you are incredible. Thank you.”

A/N : Guess who's back? It's me, how are you all? Sorry I've been gone so long, and have a busy next two weeks so might disappear again, but just wanted to say thanks for the support & love you all. Have a great day/night!

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @wordbunch / cont. in comments✧ wish to be tagged?

#the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #thorin's company x you #thorin's company x reader #thorin x you #thorin x reader #fili x reader #fili x you #kili x you #kili x reader #dwalin x reader #dwalin x you #bofur x reader #bofur x you #bilbo x reader #bilbo x you #bilbo baggins x reader

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anjautembear · 3 days ago

Text

Helloo. So this is my first post and I had this idea in my head after I listend to a song. English isn't my first language so sorry if there are spelling errors or sentences that don't make a lot of sence😅. I hope to the readers that read this like this as much as I do and sorry again if it doesn't make sence >_<. OKAY on to the story!!

Warning: Angst baby

Inspired by the song: All i want by kodaline

All i want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door

He watches the door, hoping that she would walk threw it, greating him with that loving smile she always had, that still haunts him. He still hopes after weeks, but deep down he knows.

'Cause if I could see your face once more

I could die as a happy man I'm sure

He misses her, her face is starting to blur in his memory of her, but he wishes to go back. He wishes that he took her face in detail, if he only knew, that she would no longer be here, he would have printed her loving gaze in his mind.

When you said your last goodbye

The day of her death, is the day he wishes that never happend, the day that cancer took her from him, a sickness he so hates, a day that will haunt him forever.

The sound of a heartmonitor beeping in the background, the doctors and nurces shoes squeking on the floor outside, people talking, the sound of the wind blowing outside, the autum air blowing threw the curtains. Her favourite season.

But all those noises are blurred, for his soulfocus, was her, his beloved, his wife. He remembers holding her hand so tight for he feared she would pass to soon, slip from his fingers. His hold is tight but not too tight, for he didn't want to brake her. She was already thin and fragile. He still hates that feeling of her thin hand holding his and not the once healthy hand. Cancer was a true nightmare.

Her last words, the words that haunt him still, her fairwell greating, was a request. She requested that he should move on, marry another, find a new person that would treat him well. That she still and would love him. She hates that she is dying but does not want her beloved to suffer when she's gone. Her last and final words,

"You were a wonderful experience, I loved every minute with you. You were the reason for my every smile...I think...I'm ready to go home..with a smile and the memorys of us. Please look after youself...please."

I died a little bit inside

As his tears fall after she said those words, her final breath was taken, and she was gone. Like the autum leaves she so loved, her soul being carried away, back home. Her final smile with one tear falling, will always haunt him. His tears mimicking hers, but a waterfall. His heart stoped beating that day, like hers, for his heart shatter after she ripped the bandage clean.

I lay in tears in bed all night

As he lays in his ice cold bed, that no longer has her sent and warmf. He stares at the picture of their wedding day next to his bed. He still hasn't taken it off. His lifeless eyes staring at her bright smile, her wedding dress blowing in the spring wind. Memorys of her laughter, a sickening reminder, of his regrets of not marrying her sooner.

Alone without you by my side

He can no longer sleep, he can't, he tried multible times. But he can't sleep without her warm body next to his. So he holds her pillow, that no longer has her sent, the perfume bottle she once used ,empty after he used it to remind him of her.

But if you loved me

Why'd you leave me?

He doesn't know who to blame, himself, for not meating her sooner, cancer, a sickness that took her, or her, who left him a broken mess. A broken man who can't fix himself without her.

Take my body

Take my body..

All I want is

All I need is..

He felt like he should have been the one who left, he should be the one burried 6 feet under ground, he should be the one cold in the coffen, instead of his beloved, who didn't deserve it.

She was a bright light in a room full of dull lamps, he only saw her in a room full of people. But now she's a light no longer there, he is lost in the dark room. She is now no longer in the room full of people, he is surching, but she's already in the train of no return.

He needs her...but he no longer has her to save him

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

He tells himself he'll find another light, another person in the crowd, but deep down he knows that will never happen. She was the only 'somebody' he loved. But he'll try for her, he promised.

Ooh oh

Memorys flash his mind. The day they met, bumping into eachother, on a cold autum day. He remembers how pretty she looked, how her hair framed her face, her flushed cheeks in the cold air. Her smile. Her smile he so loved.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day he preposed, the ring that gleamed in the setting sun. Her tears of joy rolling down her soft warm cheeks he so loved to kiss in the morning. Her eyes gleaming, resembling the ring, the ring he will no longer use.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day of their wedding. Tears of joy and laughter in the air of close friends, but the only laugh he heard, was hers, his wife, his other soul.

Memorys flash now...regret coming back. The day of her funeral. The rain pooring down, her coffen laying there, her favourite flower ontop. Haunting him. Mocking him, mocking him that he will no longer be able to give those same flowers to her on valentimes-day.

Cause you brought out the best of me

A part of me i'd never seen

He never thought that he could be loved, he always saw himself as the worst version of himself. But that all changed when she showed up in his life unexpectedly. She showed him parts of himself he has never seen before. She changed him into a better person. He never new he had these sides to him but she showed him like a hidden chapter between sticky pages glued together that he hid.

You took my soul and wiped it clean.

He was never a relegious person but she came to his life like a saint and changed his soul for the better. She saved him when he was stuck in a dark void of emptyness and anger. He worshiped her love like a person in church.

Our love was made for movie screens

If their love life was a movie. He was sure that everyone would have loved her as much as he did. They would have seen how deep their love was, how inlove he was. But he geasses that not every movie has a happy ending. There love story had a plot twist not even he could see coming.

Ooh, if you loved me

Why'd you leave me

Take my body

All I want is..

All I need is..

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

Like you, ooh

He promised himself, he promised you, that he would move on. Find somebody that would love him like you did, but he can't. He would have to brake that promise. He can't move on, you were his somebody...

Thank you for reading this, I hope this wasn't a bad story😅. Bye bye!!

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madlyney · 3 days ago

Text

Rambling and Ranting to You

@Hufflepuff-girl-1996: Hi there 😊Could I ask for a Tsukishima Kei x plus size reader? I love his cold and distance personality 😍🥰 Well what you write is up to you, as long as it shows that Tsukki has romantic interest in reader and maybe to make it a bit funny the other boys tease him about it 🙈 I just looooove this boi ❤

Kei Tsukishima x plus-size-gn!reader Tw: bullying mentioned, but nothing serious. Wc: 820

The sun was beginning to set. You sat on a bench in a park, staring down at your clasped hands resting on your lap. You fought back the tears that threatened to escape. As usual, you had been picked on by the same group of friends at school. You hated when this happened, but there wasn't anything you could do about it. You were often bullied because of your size, which made you extremely insecure. You always wished there was at least someone who liked you for who you were.

Well, there is someone.

Karasuno’s boys' volleyball team had just finished their practice for the day. Some of them made their usual stop at the Sakanoshita Store for meat buns. Unfortunately for Tsukishima, he was dragged along with them. As the group of boys made their way to the store, Tsukishima noticed you sitting on the park bench in the gathering darkness. It’s getting late.

Why are they still out?

Yamaguchi noticed Tsukishima, who had stopped in his tracks upon seeing you. “Tsukki, what are you looking at?” he asked, following Tsukishima's gaze to you on the bench. “Oh? Isn't that Ln?”

Tsukishima replied, “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” before walking away from the group.

The boys watched the blonde walk off, they couldn’t hide their smirks and snickers.

“Do you think he even realises his little crush?” Tanaka mused, dramatically placing his fingers over his mouth like a teenage girl.

Sugawara sighed. “Our Tsukki’s growing up,” he said as he wiped an imaginary tear.

You were so preoccupied with your thoughts and feelings that you didn't realise his presence sitting next to you on the bench.

“Are you alright?” Tsukishima asked as he leaned against the bench.

You jolted at his sudden appearance and quickly wiped the tears away, trying your best not to look at him. “Y-yeah, I'm fine. What're you doing here anyway?”

He shrugged. “Just finished practice, so Sawamura’s brought us to get meat buns.” he looks at you, taking note of your slightly reddened eyes. “Be honest with me, what's wrong?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “I rather not bother you with my problems. You have better things to do and–”

“It's not a bother.” He interrupted and crossed his arms. “Just tell me what's wrong.”

Taking a deep breath, you began telling him about your problems, ranting and venting about what’s been bothering you. To your surprise, Tsukishima listened to you attentively, occasionally humming in response or adding comments to comfort you.

By the time you finished ranting, you noticed the tears falling down your cheeks as you caught your breath from speaking too much in one go. You looked up at him, worried that you had bored him with your problems and insecurities, but he was still looking at you, the concern now etched on his face.

“I– I’m so sorry. I didn't realise I was ranting,” you said, wiping the tears off your cheek.

Tsukishima shook his head. “It's fine, it's better to tell someone than to bottle it up yourself.” He looks away, attempting to hide an expression on his face. “...you can always tell me if you'd like,” he muttered quietly, feeling the heat rush up to his cheeks.

Before you can ask him what he has just said, someone calls out to him. “Tsukishima! Hurry and claim your meat buns before Noya and Tanaka eat them all!” Sugawara yelled from the Sakanoshita Store, earning a smack on the head from Ukai for being too loud.

“I better get going,” he said as he stood up from the bench. “I'll see you in school tomorrow.”

You nodded, feeling slightly disappointed that he left, but also felt as if some weight had been lifted off of you as you had ranted to him just earlier. Seeing as it got even later, you decided to return home–which thankfully was just nearby.

“Nice chat with Ln there?” Daichi teased, raising an eyebrow as he handed Tsukishima a paper bag filled with warm meat buns.

Tsukishima ignored his question as he picked up a piece from the paper bag, which only made Daichi snicker.

“I can practically see the hearts in your—“

“Hinata, do not start.”

Sliding the door open, Tsukishima entered his classroom the next morning. He pulled his chair out, noticing a small item in his drawer. It was a bottle of coffee from the vending machine with a blue sticky note stuck on it.

Thanks for listening to my rambles last night. -yn

A small, rare smile played on his lips and a silent chuckle escaped from him.

Yamaguchi entered the classroom, noticing Tsukishima in his seat, a small tint of reddish hue on his cheeks as he looked at a sticky note in his hands. “What’s that, a love letter?”

Tsukishima stuffed the drink and note in his drawer. “None of your business, Yamaguchi.”

Note: I’m not sure if I’m happy w this😞 im soooo sorry this took so long as well!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #hq #hq x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukki #madlyney

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the-kr8tor · 15 hours ago

Text

Two Slow Dancers

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.2k

Synopsis: It's the very first day of your first 'real' job, with new faces and names, you find yourself fumbling over a handsome coworker. Will you survive the day?

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), a bit of loser! Hobie, The office AU, mockumentary AU, Coworkers AU, Coworker! Hobie, Reader has nicknames, one suggestive joke, CW food mentions, CW vomit mention, Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @pleaktale for the idea!

Navigation

The camera zooms in on your confused expression until the lenses can see every single one of your pores. The producer clears her throat, and the camera man immediately tries to fix the view. The camera lense whirrs for a second before focusing on you as you sit on an old office chair in the corner of the conference room together with the drab eggshell white painted walls and a single plastic plant placed right next to you.

All you can see are the same drab white walls with thirty year old motivational posters tacked on it. The rows of plastic chairs are lined up in front of the whiteboard where a rolling table with a small box tv sits and collects dust. You feel like you're in an uncanny side of the world where everything is all paperwork and the sound of the photocopying machine whirs in the background amidst the smell of old carpet.

This is being a full fledged adult, you thought. You're starting to hate it already.

“Is this necessary? I just got here.” You chuckle nervously, fingers fixing your collar that doesn't need to be fixed.

“Yes, we need everyone's point of view.” The muffled voice of the producer echoes in the boom mic. “And please stop fiddling with your collar, the mic will pick up the sound.”

“Sorry,” you give her a tight smile. “Um, I guess I should give you my name?” They all nod simultaneously, making you more nervous than you already are on your first day of work. Saying your name without stuttering, you mentally pat yourself on the back for your accomplishment. “I–I just started today, and I'm very excited to work here at Connor's and Jameson's.” You smile sweetly at the camera, a rough cough from someone on the crew makes your smile falter. “C–can I go now?”

A sudden deep rumble can be heard through the mic, shaking you in your seat as you hold on to the armchair. “Woah!” As quick as it came, it subsides. “I think that was an earthquake!” You say, eyes wide in panic, fingers fiddling with your collar as your nerves get to you.

“No,” the producer behind the camera sighs, “there's construction just starting next door.”

“Oh,” You wish the earth could swallow you right now. Way to embarrass yourself on your first day, and on camera too. “Right, sorry.”

The scene shifts to your new boss, Miguel, as he watches the bullpen from his office with his watchful eyes. His hands are tucked behind his back, his large frame practically blocking the sun from his window. He sees the camera crew zooming in on him, and he awkwardly straightens up, weight subtly shifting from side to side.

The camera follows his gaze, landing on Lyla, who's chewing on the cap of her pen as she chats you up while you're working quietly on your desk. She wears a cheerful yellow button up complete with the same yellow pants. You gotta admit, she wears business well.

“I'm just saying, it's eat or be eaten in this office.” The boom mic captures her voice. And the camera moves from her to the entire bullpen that's quiet except for the sound of tapping keyboards and clicking mice. “But I'm sure you'll be okay, we're just selling electric toothbrushes. It's not the end of the world of you commit one fuck up.”

You stare at the camera with a wide look before glancing at Lyla. “T–thanks for the tip.”

Lyla tilts her head with a genuine smile, “no problem, newbie. If you need any help, you know where my department is.” As you nod and glance quickly at Miguel, who's still standing still inside his office, Lyla notices your nervous demeanor. She narrows her gaze at Miguel before flipping him the bird.

“Lyla!” You whisper yell, while Miguel presumably huffs in his office and closes the blinds right after.

“What? It's just office banter!” She returns her gaze to you, eyes softening at your nervous glance. “Nice blouse by the way! Pink suits you.”

The scene changes and now Lyla is the one in your former seat inside the conference room. “Let's just say that I have… some information on him.” She smirks before the camera lense zooms in on the window in the background where Miguel stares heavily on Lyla’s back, his nose flaring, and mouth etched in a deep frown. Lyla feels the presence, brows pinching together before looking over her shoulder. “Hey, boss man!” She says without a care in the world (Or without a care for authority no doubt,) while she waves at him casually.

The scene cuts back to you struggling on the copy machine.

The machine keeps eating all the paper you feed it, making a strange and awful creaking sound whenever you press the button. You're sure that you did everything Lyla taught you. The stack of paper goes into the side, then the file you're going to copy is placed on the scanner. Pressing a few more buttons, it should've spat out an exact copy instead of giving you a jumbled mess of paper that looks like a demonic curse was printed on it.

“Damn it.” You curse under your breath. Eyes glancing to the side, you see the camera crew practically stalking you by the pillar. You quickly change your demeanor, back straightening up, shoulders straight but your huffing through the boom mic can still be picked up unbeknownst to you.

Yanking the half eaten paper away from the slot, you internally curse the photocopy god for giving you this trial for your first day. Looking around the bullpen, you see Lyla in Miguel's office, probably getting chewed on for what she did earlier. You definitely cannot ask her for help. Gazing at your right, your other co-workers are busy with their tasks, tip tapping away at their computers with their blank stares. Well, except for that one intern you hadn't had the pleasure of meeting, who's playing minesweeper on his computer. Amazingly, he looks like he's winning.

Hands balled into fists, you're contemplating whether or not you should start throwing punches at the machine. Lyla did tell you its temperamental, maybe a quick punch would make it think twice from giving you hell.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout squarin’ up with the xerox machine?” A sudden new voice startles you in place. His tone is smooth, confident and deep that it sends good shivers down your arms. “Sorry, thought you need some help.” he chuckles, backing away from you when he notices your shocked expression. “You new ‘ere, huh?”

“It's okay,” your nerves bust through your shaky tone. “Uh, yeah, new associate– on probation for the next six months.”

He smiles sweetly, silver lip piercing drawing your attention towards his lips which you immediately correct your gaze by staring at his brow piercing instead. It didn't help much with your nerves, he looks handsome in every angle. It's not like you're looking for an office romance, it's not illegal to stare, right?

Your new acquaintance has his wicks in a ponytail, silver charms clinking against each other whenever he moves his head. He wears a dark button up, untucked and without a necktie. You find him unbelievably charming.

“‘m sure you'll get it. Once you get ol’ Jerry ‘ere to work for you.” He pats the machine as it whirs and eats another piece of paper. His lithe hand grabs your attention, silver rings dotted along it like he's about to play on stage.

You swallow thickly, avoiding staring too long. “J–Jerry?”

“Yeah, we named it after this bloke who worked ‘ere.”

“That's kind of nice.”

“He's not with us anymore.”

“Oh–” you blink, lips already forming apologies.

“He’s retired, we got him a cake and everythin’” you can see that he's trying to tamp down a laugh by how his Adam's apple bops up and down and from how he subtly bites his lip piercing. “Did you think—?”

“No.” You immediately say. He gives you a teasing look, brilliant hazel eyes that are a beautiful mix of brown and green gazes at you playfully. “T–That’s what I thought too.”

“Right,” he says, unconvinced. “My offer of help still stands. But after this you have to tame the bloody beast on your own.”

You nod, “please, I'm starting to rationalize whether I should punch it or not.”

He gives you a genuine smile, “that could work actually. I've seen people do it a few times.”

“Really?” You say with raised brows and a hint of a hopeful smile.

“Nah.” He shakes his head with a smirk, smile widening when you frown at him with an annoyed look. With a chuckle, he reaches towards the half eaten paper stuck inside, fingers wrapping around it to pull away. “‘m Hobie, Hobie Brown. I work in the post room.” He gestures with his head towards the cart full of envelopes and small parcels. “Or what I like to call it in a fancy way, the logistics room.”

“It's nice to meet you, Hobie.” You smile at him, and Hobie smiles back as he finally rips the page away with a rough tug. The paper is suddenly released, the force almost topples him over if not for your quick reflexes. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, and you swear you felt his pulse quicken.

“You okay, Hobie?” As quick as you were, you retract your hand back to your side.

He nonchalantly clears his throat, fist gripping the paper in his palms. “Yeah, thank you…” he waits for your reply.

You give him your name, cheeks warm and palm suddenly clammy as you shift your feet from side to side to hide your bashfulness. With an inhale and your mind returning to the task at hand, you channel your bravery. “Care to teach me how to tame the beast?”

Hobie balls up the ruined paper all without leaving his eyes on you with a gentle smile. A bit unsure but definitely genuine. “Sure, I charge by the minute, by the way.” He jokes.

“Do you take lunch as payment?” You ride with his joke, hands placed inside your blazer pocket to again hide your shyness.

He grins, “I think we'll get along well, probie.”

You two have completely forgotten about the cameras. They got the whole interaction on film, complete with the lingering gazes and soft smiles you two seem to harbour.

—

“Hobie Brown.” He says while he's sitting on an office chair backwards, arms hugging the back of the chair and chin placed atop it casually. The producer eggs him on to continue with a single look. Hobie sighs, standing up swiftly before twirling the office chair away from him in one fluid and suave motion. “I work in the post room.” He crosses his arms on his chest, annoyed. “I've been ‘ere for three years. Don't like it, but it helps pay the bills, innit?”

“Can you tour us around the mailroom?” The producer asks in a hushed tone but loud enough to be captured by the boom mic.

“No.” He says flatly, already turning to leave the camera crew as he wheels his mail cart out of the room wordlessly.

The camera is left to just roam all over the organized chaos that is the mailroom. Everything seems to be in place but at the same time it's not. All the envelopes are in their correct spots on the large shelf on the far end of the wall, but all the boxes are shoved in a corner, all stacked up. It's a miracle that it's still standing without toppling over.

The mic picks up muffled chatter out in the hallway. Hurried footsteps can be heard as the crew follows the source of the sound. The camera peeks at the doorway, tilting to get a better look of you, who seems to be chatting Hobie up with a polite smile on your face.

“Mr. O’hara said that the shipping company messed up and gave us a different sample product.” You hold the box in your arms, clearly opened but was hastily closed off with masking tape. “He asked if you could send it back?” You ask sheepishly.

Hobie's whole demeanor seems to change as the white fluorescent light shines on your bashful eyes. “Sure, I know those blokes. I can even get it shipped for free.” He opens his arms, receiving the box from you, hands briefly brushing along his own. “They rarely fuck up, what's inside?”

“Uh,” you laugh nervously, cheeks aflame. “Something that is electric but definitely not a toothbrush—” before you could warn him, he shakes the box. It sets off numerous buzzing sounds inside. Hobie's neck snaps up towards you in a flash, with a smile slowly spreading across his amused face. “Yeah…” You wince, biting at your lower lip. “They're not toothbrushes.”

“Holy shit! It's—”

“Don't say it, Hobie!” You say through your grin. “Miguel was furious!”

His loud guffaw echoes down the hallway, making the boom mic pick up the sound, almost shattering the mic itself. Earning a high pitched sound emanate from it briefly. The poor sound tech had to take off his earphones lest he breaks his eardrums.

Hobie laughs harder. “I bet. I'd pay to see him all mad like that.” Shaking the box even more, the buzzing sound makes you chuckle, hand clasping over your mouth to tamp down your giggles. He mirrors your smile, finding your laughter contagious. After you've composed yourself, worthy of being your business self, he gestures towards the mailroom with his head. “You wanna see the post room, probie? It's not as glamorous as the bullpen but it's alright.”

“As long as you don't shake or god forbid, open the box.” You playfully gesture with your index at the box in his hands.

“Only if you ask.” He jokes back, or was it flirting on his end? Clearing his throat, he sees you widen your eyes, breath hitching in your throat. “I wouldn't, don't worry.” He immediately decides to remedy the awkwardness, feeling that he might've offended you. “There's a parcel ‘ere that's dated to be delivered in ten years. Don't ask why because I don't know.”

“In ten years? Weird, who's it addressed to?” You follow Hobie despite your thudding heart. He makes you feel like you're back in school again with all the crushes and lingering gazes across the classroom. Maybe it's not so bad to befriend someone else here that isn't Layla.

The camera crew immediately runs to the other end of the hallway to continue secretly filming the two of you, before you or Hobie could see them. Hobie opens the door for you, balancing his hold on the box and on the door.

“Yeah, it has your name on it.” You gasp right next to him. He smirks, eyes glancing at you teasingly. “Just fuckin' with you, probie.”

“I have a name, y’know.” You roll your eyes, seeing something move in your peripheral.

“You're probie until the lunch club says so.”

“The lunch club?” You ask, head tilting at the peeping camera from the corner of the hallway.

“You'll see,” Hobie shakes the box again to get your attention.

“You—! I told you not to shake it again!” Your giggles get muffled as you close the door behind you with a creak. The noise is followed by Hobie enthusiastically giving you a tour of the mailroom to the whole documentary crew’s amusement, and half disappointment.

—

You finally make it to lunch without a hitch. Without any more raunchy parcels and without you tripping over your own heels on the carpeted floors.

The camera follows right behind you, giving you enough space after you complained to Lyla in the HR department at how they've been too close to you, and hindering your work. (They haven't, you just find them annoying.) Hobie seems to have the same idea as you when he went to her office to tell them off too. According to him, ‘If I see another camera up in my face, I'll break their dodgy lenses.’ He said it with such gravitas that the documentary crew backed away immediately with their tails tucked in between their legs.

You grasp your lunch box in your hands, eyes roaming around the small break room with a few tables and chairs all grouped up. The vending machines on the side of the room whirr, its lights flickering in and out that has you suddenly creeped out. You blame Hobie for telling you a story about a night janitor that cleans the whole building even without its head attached to his neck.

Goosebumps appear on your arms when you remember how eerily he told it. Still, you were properly entertained before you had to go back to work, back to your drab computer with its boring programs and even more boring paperwork. Hobie makes it all bearable. You smile at the thought. Good thing that you're the only person in the breakroom, or your new coworkers would think that you're losing it. Then you remember the camera zeroing in on your face, you want to throw your lunch at them. If only it didn't cause you your job.

With a sigh, you claim the table nearest towards the vending machine. Sitting down your packed lunch, a bottle of your favourite iced tea grabs your attention inside the vending machine, begging to be let out of its glass confines.

Rummaging through your blazer, you could only find a stick of gum, and a button that magically flew out of your sleeve when you moved to grab a stapler earlier. You sigh, longingly staring at the sweetened tea. You bet that it'll help make your miserable first day a bit better. But alas, you're too lazy to go back to your desk to quickly grab your wallet.

Suddenly, an arm appears next to you, you almost screamed at the appearance if not for the recognizable rings around his fingers.

“Hobie, you scared me!” You clutch your imaginary pearls. “I thought you were—”

“The night janitor?” He smirks teasingly. You find him adorably infuriating. “D’you still need that change?” Glancing at his hand that's clutching the coin, it’s ready to be placed inside the coin slot, just waiting for your cue.

The camera crew backs away further into the corner, having the perfect view of the entire room and your interaction.

“I—” you wince when you pat down your other pocket, cursing at how your pencil skirt doesn't even have pockets. “— will you, please?” Great, your embarrassment will transcend through TV screens from now on.

Hobie smiles softly, coin clinking inside the machine as it falls. “Choose your poison, probie.”

Without a doubt, you press the number that correlates to your favourite drink. “Thanks, Hobie. I'll pay you back later. I'm supposed to be buying you lunch, remember?” You crouch down as the bottle tumbles down with a thud, falling right into your waiting hand. It's cold to the touch, the bee mascot on the packaging greets you with a cartoonish smile.

“Don't mind it, I have my own lunch. Save the IOU for another day.” he says as he sits down, setting his own lunch adjacent to yours. “Take it as a welcome gift.”

You turn around to face him, having a hard time opening the bottle cap. “And here I thought you wanted me out of here.”

Hobie scoffs without malice laced in it. The camera lense zooms in on his gentle smile. “Please, I don't give a tour to anyone in my post room just like that.” He gestures for the bottle wordlessly, fingers opening and closing in a come hither motion.

“I thought you brought all the new girls in there.” Teasing, you sit down in front of him, handing him your drink which he opens for you without a struggle. “Thanks.” He hands it back, warm fingers unintentionally brushing along your own.

“Not all the new girls.” He shrugs. “Jus’ the ones with the weak wrists.”

“Hey!” You chuckle, “rude. The cap was screwed in too tightly.”

“Sure, probie.” He opens his lunchbox, the smell of savoury meat and sautéed vegetables makes your hastily made sandwich look like it came from a microwavable meal.

“Wow.” You blink at the perfectly cooked rice. “Is that turmeric in the rice?”

Puffing up his chest, he smugly smiles. “Yeah, Beef broccoli with oyster sauce.”

“Damn,” you look down at your regular white bread egg sandwich. “Wanna switch?”

He chuckles, “no.” He makes sure to enunciate.

“Worth a try.” You mirror his smile. “Did your girlfriend or partner make it?”

“Nope, no girlfriend. Made it myself.” He says the last sentence proudly.

No girlfriend, huh? “It's pretty amazing that you have time to prep meals.” You take a bite of your abysmal lunch.

“That's what gets you when you don't have a partner.” Hobie scoops out a decent amount of his meal with his spoon, “your sandwich is…”

“Shit, I know.”

Chuckling, Hobie looks at you through his shining hazel eyes. “I was gonna say alright, but that works too.”

You take a sip of your iced tea, letting the cool drink douse your obvious shyness and flustered state whenever you converse with him. Lyla's words during the orientation keep repeating in your head, ‘no office romance,’ she said. ‘It's too complicated,’ she said. Is it though?

“So what's the lunch club? Shouldn't they be meeting up right about now?” Just as you said it, the doors swing open, revealing three college aged kids in their business outfits.

“Sorry we're late. Pav here needed to finish something.”

“Don't blame me,” The one with the flowy hair and dark brown suit scrunches his nose. “You're the one who's playing minesweeper all day, Miles.”

“The fields aren't getting cleared all by themselves, y'know?”

The only girl in the group sighs and rolls her blue eyes, pausing in the doorway once she sees you sitting with Hobie. “Well, who do we have here?” Her voice puts a stop to the arguing.

“Meet the new girl. Gwen, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Gwen.” Hobie gestures over to the blond then to you.

“Hi, it's a pleasure.” You say whilst quickly chewing your food to appear somewhat presentable when they caught you mid chew.

“Oho, so she's the one you've been yapping about, Hobie.” Gwen crosses the small distance, palm patting Hobie on his shoulder. “Now it's really nice to meet you.”

“You talk about me?” You tilt your head, eyes narrowed playfully.

“He will not shut up, trust me.” Pav waves towards you in greeting. “I'm Pavitr by the way! I wish you could meet Gyatri but she's out sick.” He sighs, sinking down on the chair.

“It's nice to meet you, Pavitr.” You smile genuinely at the seemingly lovestruck Pavitr.

“Don't mind him, he just misses his girlfriend.” The one in a white button up and black lopsided necktie holds out his hand to you. “I'm Miles Morales.”

“Pleasure,” you shake his hand briefly while Hobie watches you interact with three of them. The documentary crew fades in the background, practically a fly on the wall by now that the group has gotten used to their cameras and lights. “I'm guessing this is the lunch club?”

“That's what Hobie told you?” Gwen sits down next to you, sliding drinks she got from the vending machine towards each of her friends. “We're more like the gossiping slash complaining club.”

You chuckle, “you guys are interns?”

“Unpaid interns.” They all say simultaneously in the same monotonous tone.

“It should be Illegal.” Hobie says, elbows placed on the table to address you fully.

“Not being paid for work in the guise that it's just an internship therefore the ‘pay’ is experience?” You make quotation marks with your fingers. Hobie raises an amused brow while the three share a knowing look that you can't quite decipher.

“That and interns.” Hobie shrugs with a smile, you snort at his joke, gazes lingering for a second before returning to each of your meals.

Gwen smirks and nudges Hobie's leg with her foot. The camera picks up and records their wordless conversation before she turns towards you. “If not for me then the mailroom would be a complete mess.”

“It's organized, Gwendy.”

“Well you did a shit job at organizing it.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you.”

Miles leans towards you, “Hobie's technically her boss.”

“Doesn't look like it. They argue like siblings.” You watch them with amusement, eyes crinkling in the corners. You decide to save everyone's lunch, “so… the lunch club is just you guys chatting about?”

“It’s more than that!” Pav says while he quickly swallows his lunch, “it's a way of life!”

“We sometimes meet up to play a gig at some dinghy place, or to just hangout after work.” Gwen smiles at you, hand clasped around her drink after Miles tried to switch it with his. “Wait!” Her blue eyes sparkles, “you haven't told her that you're in a band, Hobie!”

The trio gives Hobie a wry smile. Mischief glimmering in their eyes. “Yeah, Hobie, tell her about that time you played for one thousand people.” Pav nudges him with his elbow with a wink that you missed.

“You're in a band?!” Your expression brightens. “That's so cool! My roommate’s in a band, what do you play?”

Hobie throws the trio a quick glare before clearing his throat. “The guitar—”

“Just don't ask him to serenade you— Ow!” Gwen flinches in her seat, gaze narrowed at Hobie.

Your smile gets brighter, “you must be good at it then, playing for a thousand souls isn't a walk in the park.”

“Pav’s exaggeratin’, it was only a hundred or so.”

“Please,” Miles scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “It was definitely more than ‘a hundred or so.’” He copies Hobie's accent imperfectly. “You should've seen him,” he points at Hobie with his thumb while animatedly talking and clearly gassing him up. “He was basically Freddie Mercury up there— Ow, what?!” He stares at Hobie as if his looks could burn a hole through his head.

“He has a show next week—” Pav suddenly exclaims. “don't you dare, Hobie!” He points accusingly at Hobie. A moment passes while the two have a stare off. Meanwhile, the camera zooms in under the table where Hobie's foot is threatening to kick at Pav's leg.

Hobie sighs, blinking away his annoyance, (and putting his foot down) “it's in the white horse pub, if you're free next weekend.”

“Drinks are on Hobie—!” Gwen quickly says before twisting in her seat, effectively dodging Hobie's attack. “You should go! The rest of the band will appreciate a new face in the crowd.”

“Are you guys sure?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I don't want to impose.”

“Impose away, probie.” Hobie smiles at you, dimples in full display. “‘sides, the pub’s fish and chips are unmatched.” His eyes sparkle under the fluorescent light of the vending machines.

You nod bashfully. “Sure. You had me at fish and chips.”

The trio share a knowing look before side eyeing the camera simultaneously with the same expression while you and Hobie gaze at each other with slight trepidation.

—

Before your first day could end, Miguel O’Hara calls everyone in the conference room for a quick meeting. You highly doubt that it's a quick meeting though since there's only thirty minutes before the day could officially end. Couldn't he just email it instead? Or maybe this is about *that package. If it is, you don't want to go.

With a huff and a quick but tired look at the camera, you make your way towards the conference room. As you enter, Miguel stands at front, muscular arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning the room.

You avoid his stare, finding that your new boss scares you just a tiny bit with his air of authority around him.

Leather shoes and heels shuffle on the floor as each employee finds their place on their seat. You find the farthest chair to sit on in hopes of staying invisible. The plastic chair squeaks as you sit, cringing at the sound, knowing that the mic probably picked it up. You're starting to hate this documentary crew following your every move. Who would even find an electric toothbrush company entertaining to watch? Moreso to film its day to day operations? It's a complete mystery to you.

The room slowly fills up with you sitting at the back, your fists bunch up at your skirt with your nerves bothering you as Miguel scans his brown eyes around the room. The man sitting in front of you twists in his seat, a smile etched on his face.

“You're the new kid, huh?” You nod at him sheepishly as he reaches for you in greeting. “I'm Peter B. Welcome to the shit show.”

“Nice to meet you?” You shake his hand despite what he said.

The woman next to him sighs audibly, curls bouncing as she looks over her shoulder over to Peter. “Don't depress the poor kid on her first day, Peter.” With a polite smile, she addresses you. “I'm Jessica, don't listen to him, he's nihilistic. And likes to scare the newbies.”

“Well, I couldn't do it to Harry, might as well do it to— what's your name again?” Peter raises a brow at you.

“I haven't given it to you yet.” Chuckling nervously, you give him your name, fists unfurling around your skirt as you find them weirdly comforting. Like your favourite aunt and uncle you only get to see during the holidays.

“And I'm that Harry.” Someone suddenly speaks on your right. You almost jump in place if not for his gentle and unassuming smile. “I was hired a month before you.”

You take his waiting hand and shake it politely, finding his hand warm and friendly. “Y/N. Got any advice?”

Harry chuckles, a strand of auburn hair falling over his eye which he quickly brushes away casually. “My advice?” You nod, “go with the flow, and don't take it too seriously. The world won't catch fire if you accidentally mess up your documents. Worst case is that someone won't be able to brush their teeth for a few days.”

“Thanks.” You utter with a chuckle.

“No problem, oh, and uh, stay away from the bathroom on the second floor.”

You blink, curiosity written all over your face. “Why? Did someone die there?” You whisper the last sentence.

Harry leans closer, whispering back, pausing for suspense as you wait with trepidation. “...No, the other workers in the building just like to take a dump in there.” With every word, his smile grows. “Why would you think someone died there?” He says teasingly.

Just as you laugh, Hobie finally enters the room with the trio in tow. Miguel gives them a sour look for being late. You glance at him, “I think someone gave me that idea.”

Harry shakes his head with a smile, leaning away as Hobie sits down on your left. Harry gives him a polite nod before glancing softly at you and returning his attention to the front of the room. The camera zeroes in on Hobie's colder gaze at the man right next to you.

“What'd I miss?” He crosses his leg over the other casually, foot nudging you gently.

“Not much, just a few introductions—” Miguel's voice suddenly calling your name interrupts you. You feel like a student again when a teacher scolds you for talking in class. “Yes— sorry?” You stand up lightning quick, hands sweaty and stomach plummeting down.

“I was going to ask if you want to introduce yourself.” Miguel blinks at you, suddenly, you feel the room shrinking and with everyone's eyes on your trembling form.

You want to run and hide somewhere. Maybe not in the second floor bathroom.

“Uh, yeah, s–sure.” You curse yourself internally for fumbling over your own words. Saying your name, your throat feels like it's about to close on you. Someone coughs within the crowd, you feel faint. Hobie notices, the back of his hand brushes atop yours. You look down at the source, and he nods and smiles at you, encouraging you gently. “And I— I'm excited to work with all of you.”

Miguel nods, satisfied, giving you a glance as he tells you to sit back down. You can see Lyla give you a thumbs up from her seat up front.

“Nice job,” Hobie whispers to you, shoulder nudging your own. You inhale deeply whilst the camera lens focuses on you and Hobie. Miguel's words drones on, fading in the background. “Oi,” he says gently, “just breathe, yeah? It's over, you did brilliantly.”

“I think I'm gonna vomit.” You huff, trying to inhale and exhale out your bundle of nerves. “I almost fucked that up.”

“But you didn't.” Smiling, he taps your hand with his pinky. “Keep breathin’ for me. Don't want you gettin' sick all over the floors. What would the night janitor think about you now.”

You clasp a hand over your mouth to quiet down your chuckles. “Thank you, Hobie. I'm sorry that you have to keep saving me.”

Your whispered words make him grin, hiding how his cheeks grow warmer atop his shoulder. “No problem, it's part of my job description—”

“Hobie Brown!” Miguel's voice echoes from the front towards the back of the room, you flinch at the sound. “What do you do during an earthquake?”

Hobie's brows pinch together in confusion. “Why?”

Miguel rubs at the skin in between his eyes. Cameras flicking over to him and over to Hobie, who's grinning mischievously. The trio, except for Gwen, mirrors his playful grin.

“Dios mio, it's because we've been talking about an earthquake drill for the past five minutes.” You can tell that Miguel’s holding back from swearing.

“Ah, that.” Hobie smirks, feigning confusion. You swear he was actually listening to Miguel while he was talking to you. “Get on the floor and roll over?”

You almost laughed, Pav does, which was immediately extinguished by Miguel's stern stare.

“No, that's for when there's a fire.” Miguel gestures towards Harry right next to you. “Osborne.”

“Duck, cover and hold.” He shrugs, glancing at you, or was he staring over you and towards Hobie instead?

“Good,” Miguel breathes out a sigh, “the company wants us to practice what to do in the event of an earthquake.”

Hobie snickers in place. While Miles raises a defiant hand. “But there hasn't been an earthquake in New York since 1884.”

Miguel pauses like he's also thinking on why the company would instruct him that. “They just want to cover all the bases.” He says confidently, you admire at how fast he came up with that. “Lyla here will show you how—”

The floor suddenly shakes, and you grip at the nearest thing near you, which is coincidentally, Hobie's hand.

“Earthquake!” Lyla yells atop her lungs, already running out of the room in haste, leaving everyone to fend for themselves. Everyone follows right behind her, panic settling in everyone.

Hobie glances at you, with a playful wink, he launches off his chair, hand clutching at your wrist gently. You follow a half second later, heels clicking against the floor as you try to keep up with his long strides.

“Wait! It's just the—” Miguel gets bumped by Peter, stumbling briefly before catching himself. “Lyla! It's just the construction next door!” Still, everyone sprints off, leaving him alone in the room.

With everyone either in a panic or just following the crowd without an ounce of haste, Hobie seems to be having the time of his life. Cackling above Lyla's high pitched screams whilst he holds onto your wrist.

“C’mon, probie! Don't want the buildin’ to fall on you now!” He says while running with measured steps on the stairs of the fire exit. You're sure that running out of a building during an earthquake isn't wise, but the shake wasn't technically an earthquake.

Your panic is replaced with something lighter, smiling as he holds onto you. “Do you know it's just the—?” Foot stumbling over the other whilst you two run down the stairs, he immediately twists around when he feels that you've become suddenly weightless right behind him. “Shit!”

“Got you!” Hobie's arms catch you mid air as you instinctively yelp and grab a hold of him. His back hits the wall in a groan, eyes briefly closing from the sudden ache. “You alright?”

“Me?! Are you okay?!” You actually panic now, scanning him for injuries, head craning to look at the back of his head. Thankfully, you don't find any injuries. “Oh thank fuck.” Thumping your head on his shoulder, he chuckles as his hands hovers above your back.

The rush of footsteps subside, and you two are left alone on the staircase. His shallow breaths echo while you lean away, but still near enough to see his dimples and how flustered you look in his gorgeous eyes.

“Sorry for draggin’ you around, love.” The new nickname has your head craning up to look at him at lightning speed. “Thought you could keep up.”

You two don't notice the lone cameraman atop the stairs, watching the scene unfold, all the while having a front row seat.

Your palms are on his chest, lips slightly agape, eyes gazing into his hazel eyes. “I did, you're not the one wearing heels, Hobie.”

“There you go, fight back, love.” His voice warms your chest as he smiles at you and only you.

Heart beating rapidly, you hear footsteps from behind, and you immediately unlatch yourself from Hobie. His warmth is left etched on your form, eyes glancing shyly at him, finding that he's already staring at you with the same softness.

“Good, you're still here.” Miguel huffs from the top of the stairs, “get the others back up here.”

The scene shifts to Miguel sitting alone in his office, looking disgruntled and tired. “I want to quit.” He says in a flat tone.

—

It's finally time to go home. You close your computer and grab your things, waving goodbye to Lyla, who's staying behind to work on paperwork. You guess that's her punishment for setting off panic in the whole office.

Mind recounting your whole day, you enter the elevator on auto pilot. The elevator door starts to close, but a hand reaches in between the closing doors, effectively opening it.

Hobie's expression brightens when he sees you.

“Hi, Hobie.” You smile, holding the door for him to give him time to enter.

“Love.” He tips his head to you, joining you in the elevator. He puts on his leather jacket filled with shiny spikes and buttons all around it, atop his button up, making him look like a tough businessman of sorts. “Headin’ home?”

“Yep,” you pop the letter ‘p’ whilst trying your best not to ogle him. “My roommate’s picking me up, we're gonna go celebrate with a couple pints of ice cream.”

“Cute.” He mumbles, quickly clearing his throat right after.

“Huh?” You glance at him, heart thudding, and hands clammy around your bag.

“I said that it's adorable, celebratin’ your first day.”

“You think it's childish?” Your brows pinch together.

“Didn't say that,” he backtracks, “I think it's nice to celebrate it.” You hum in reply. “I didn't mean—” Side eyeing him, you tamp down your laughter by biting down on your lip. He catches on immediately. Shaking his head with a fond smile, Hobie leans on the elevator wall, hands casually shoved in his pockets. “Cheeky.”

“Learned from the best.” You shuffle on your feet to hide your shyness. “What happened to the camera crew?”

“They went home, they have regular hours too y’know. Why, you miss ‘em?”

“God, no.” The doors open with a ding as Hobie chuckles at your reply. You exit the elevator, shoulders aching from how much you've been sitting down today.

“Before I forget.” Stepping off, he opens the glass door for you, propping it open with his body as he rummages through his pockets. You wait for him patiently, watching as he pats all his pockets. “‘ere.” Handing you a piece of paper, he waits for you to read it.

“Is this?” Reading the contents written in his handwriting, complete with a little doodle of the iced tea you had for lunch. Your eyes soften under the orange sunset.

“The recipe for my beef broccoli I had for lunch.” He shrugs, hand scratching at the back of his head as he stares anywhere that isn't your shining eyes. “It's easier than you think it is. It only took me about 30 minutes to cook because I chopped everythin’ up and prepped it the night before. I stopped eatin’ at shitty fast food places when I learned to do it myself.” He rambles on nervously, hiding his sweet gesture with numerous explanations.

You pat his arm before pocketing the recipe for safekeeping. “Thank you, Hobie. I'll make sure to make extra for you.”

The corner of his lips tug up into a gentle smile. “Make sure you give me an extra serving of beef then, love.”

You nod, heart beating loudly against your chest. “Does this mean I'm part of the lunch club now?”

“‘Course.” He says it like it's the most obvious thing ever. “The council has approved your membership. That includes the rest of my band mates.”

“And here I thought the council only consisted of you and a trio of teenagers.” You take a jab at him in an effort to tease him.

“Fuckin' cheeky, you're hangin’ ‘round me too much—”

A familiar weight suddenly falls on your shoulders. “Who's this tall drink of—”

“MJ!” You immediately clamp her mouth shut with your hand to save yourself the embarrassment. “This is Hobie, my coworker.”

Hobie's brows furrow, the cogs in his head turn at the sight of the red haired. “I think I know you from somewhere.”

Mj moves your hand away before answering. “Wait, I think I know you too!”

Recognition flits over their faces, eyes widening. “You're in that band!” They say at the same time while pointing at eachother.

MJ leaves your side, and Hobie fist bumps her hand in greeting. You're standing in between them so you back away a little to give them space. You smile at their interaction, it's such a small world that they actually know each other. You're happy that your best friend is acquainted with your new friend.

“You're in ‘Mary Janes,’ right?” Hobie's smile grows bigger.

“Bitch, I am the Mary Jane!” She gestures in a ‘here I am’ pose, continuing to chat him up.

“Shit, I like your music, mate.”

“Dude, yours absolutely fucks hard!” Mj jumps on the balls of her feet excitedly. “I saw you guys play last month, the crowd was wild!”

“We have a gig next week at the white horse, wanna come with?”

“Fuck yeah, my guy!”

As they talk, you blend into the background. Your mouth opens to try to get a word in, but their enthusiastic words plow over your own. Your smile falters as they slowly forget about you standing on the side. So you wait, and wait like a kid waiting for their parent to stop talking to someone they bumped into at the grocery store.

Your first day wasn't so bad, right?

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