#it has espresso in it but i need to stay AWAKE

[butchpeabody]

okay ive decided i cant be sleeping until 10:30 pm im gonna man up and try my first starbucks/coffee tomorrow. if anyone here drinks coffee id be really grateful for recommendations for someone who has never had it

[luvhughes43]

is it over now? | jack hughes

part two of the beginning

au masterlist⭐️

note: i switched to first person pov for this story just to test it out. Inbox me if you’d want to go back to 3rd person.

warnings: pregnancy, birth

word count: 4.7k

the doctors waiting room is cold and uninviting. i stare up at all the pregnancy posters that litter the walls, and soon my gaze falls to all the mothers and all the fathers. they all sit, talking quietly amongst themselves. the women are gorgeously radiant, and if this were any other time i’d compare their beauty to mine. 

instead, i linger on the way they interact with their husbands, boyfriends, whatever. small touches, whispers, and smiles all burn into my mind like a useless cd. 

“y/n l/n?” a nurse in all blue interrupts my thoughts, she gestures for me to follow her and i do. 

like the waiting room, the small room i’m brought into is cold. i wonder briefly what jacks doing right now. if he had gotten my message or if he’s still asleep. i try to imagine his reaction but i can’t bring myself to conjure up an accurate depiction of him. everything is off - and i fear if i keep trying to imagine this man who’s not my jack, that i’ll somehow forget the real one. 

“we’re just going to do some tests, all very basic things. i need to know your medical history, and i’ll have to do a complete physical assessment,” a doctor walks into the room, clipboard in hand. she doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but I absentmindedly nod to her words anyway. 

“Okay so, is this your first pregnancy?” the doctor asks. 

“Yes” i nod.

“And, do you have any medical history I should be aware of? Past procedures, family history, etc” the doctor looks up from their notes and i pause. 

“Uh, i -” my cell phone buzzes in my purse and i quickly reach for it. Its a notification from sephora, something about how there’s a last minute sale and that i should buy some overpriced body spray. 

“I had my tonsils taken out when I was five, but other than that i’ve had no other procedures” my words come out shaky, as if i’m confused. i turn my phone over again, willing for another notification to pop up. It’s 11:40am, and jack is definitely awake by now. 

the doctor calls a nurse in to prep for the examination. everythings a blur as i lean back. the nurse, short with reddish-blonde hair, has to ask me to lift up the bottom of my shirt twice. 

“And if you look over here, this is where your baby is,” the doctor is confident in her speech as she shifts the little wand around my stomach. 

the appointment was nightmarish. 

the nurse sent me home with a little packet of information sheets, all different colours and all about different things. i don’t want to look at them, so i shove them into the bottom of my purse when i get out of the office. 

⋆ ★

vivienne always made sure to wake up an hour before jack. she liked to make herself a fancy coffee with her espresso machine, and she liked to plan out her events for the day. she had decided that they’d go to the grocery store sometime before noon, hit the mall for an outfit to wear to dinner, and then of course dinner with viviennes friends at 7. 

after her coffee, Vivienne tiptoed her way back into her bedroom. she was proud of the fact that Jack liked to stay here. she made sure her bedding was always fresh and clean when he was over, and she made sure to spray a little bit of her perfume on his pillows so he’d get used to falling asleep to the scent of her. 

Vivienne grabbed a hold of Jack's phone on his nightstand, and slowly slid it off the side of the table and into the palm of her hand. she turned it over, bombarded with the amount of notifications that littered his phone screen. she slid up, quickly typing his passcode. she had to be mindful of her next moves. she didn’t have long to do her routine digging. 

“It’s not really fair for you to be with vivienne if you still have feelings for y/n”

“will you drop it? you were the one who told me to go for viv”

“Jack-”

“No! Dawson, you were the one who begged me to move on. I am. What happened with me and y/n-"Jack cuts himself off. “what happened.. It’s done now. leave me alone” 

Vivienne recalled the conversation she overheard a few weeks ago and she couldn’t shake it from her mind. So, she did what any girlfriend would do and searched the girls username on instagram. 

She hadn’t thought y/n would be any type of problem in hers and Jack's relationship. That was until Jack and Vivienne were laying in bed, with Jack wanting to show Vivienne a picture he had taken a while ago on a roadie. He was scrolling past his photo albums when she saw it. The “it” being a photo album titled “❤️” filled with pictures of jack and y/n at art galleries and whatnot. 

Ynuser: 1 dm request

Accept | Delete

Vivienne clicked onto the dm, and when she saw the words pregnant and yours her blood ran cold. She angled her body away from Jack, and with his reassuring snores clouding her mind, she reread the dm again. 

Jack, I don't even know how to tell you this. It doesn’t feel right. But, I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’ve booked an appointment with my obgyn for tomorrow and they’re going to confirm the test for me. You're the only person that I've been with since we’ve gotten together so it’s for sure yours. If you need a paternity test or anything at all just let me know and we can sort it out. Please reach out and we can talk about this in person. I’m sorry.

“Fuck” Vivienne cursed as she clicked Jacks phone off. She turned around and stared at the man in question while debating her options. 

Letting Jack find the message on his own was the most obvious answer but… would he still want to be with her when he found out about the baby? If it even is his, Vivienne rolled her eyes at the thought. 

The next logical option was to delete the message and block the girl. Jack would never have to know, and Vivienne would just have to be the perfect girlfriend for the next little while. She’d make him his favourite foods, dress extra hot, and do everything in her power to make sure he forgot about his ex. 

Vivienne turned Jack's phone on again, and without a second thought, swiftly declined the message request before blocking the girl. 

To make sure her tracks were completely cleared, she searched the girls name up in his contact list and blocked her there as well. 

And, just as quickly as Vivienne had picked up her boyfriends phone, she had set it back down. 

⋆ ★

After the appointment, I was stuck in meetings for the rest of the day with no opportunities to check my phone. During my appointed bathroom breaks, I was too anxious to check. My hands trembled as I hovered over the instagram app, too nervous to see if he had read the message. 

I thought about the next message that I would send all day. Would I send the doctors confirmation? My next appointment date? The reason why I found out about the pregnancy so late? 

When I got out from work, I decided to walk the 45 minutes home instead of taking the Subway. I hoped that the semi-fresh air would clear my mind. 

By the time I unlocked the front door of my apartment, it was 6:45pm. Jack would have gotten out of practice, and he would probably be at home grilling himself a piece of chicken while his rice cooked. 

I pull my boots off and wander into my bathroom. i shut the door behind me, giving myself some privacy from my own space. When I close my eyes, all the memories of Jack and I flicker through my mind like one of those plastic children's cameras.

I take a deep breath, before finally pulling my phone out of my pocket and turning it on. I click into instagram and my stomach drops. 

jackhughes

No posts yet

User not found

what the fuck was i going to do.

⋆ ★

“Claudia!” my voice was hoarse from crying as I pounded on my best friend's door with my fists. I had run all the way to Claudia's apartment, and luckily someone was walking into her apartment complex so I didn't have to buzz in. 

Claudia's door swung open, and she immediately pulled me inside and into her arms. “What's wrong?” she practically cooed, not a stranger to my breakdowns. 

“J-jack he-” I couldn't stomach the rest.

“Babe, slow down… breathe..” Claudia stressed as she started doing breathing exercises for me to copy. I followed her movements, and when I was deemed calm enough she moved me over to sit on her couch. 

I take a few minutes to recover before explaining what happened. 

“I’m going to kill him” Claudia sneered after I had explained the pregnancy, the message, and how my ex boyfriend-turned-baby daddy had blocked me. 

“What am I going to do?” I was crying again. I was bordering on exhaustion as I leaned my head against the back of Claudia's couch and wailed.  

My hand found its place at the top of my stomach, where the faintest baby bump had begun to form. 

⋆ ★

vivienne just added to their story!

vivienne

liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, alixearle, and others

vivienne mr nhl man

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user01 VIVIENNE HAS A BF??

user02 viv baby who is it

user04 vivnation lost

user05 jack and trevor liking ohhh wow…

user06 is it jack?

user07 i thought jack has a gf?

user06 he was seen out with a girl a few times months ago but that was it lol

user08 the nhl girlies lost

⋆ ★

ynuser

liked by claudia, and others

ynuser my baby🤍

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claudia im a proud honorary aunt❤️

user00 congrats!! 

user01 Congratulations on your pregnancy sweetie! We have to get together sometime soon😘❤️

⋆ ★

the pregnancy was lonely. It was all long hours at work, quiet doctor appointments, and late nights binge sessions watching gossip girl with whatever craving plagued my mind. 

I tried my hardest to stay away from social media, my heart cracking a little more every time jack came across my feed with his rumoured new girlfriend. of course, i knew it wasn’t a rumour, which just made everything more miserable. 

“Do you want to know the gender?” the ultrasound tech asked as she shielded the sonogram screen away from my view. 

I nod, “yes, please”

Claudia squeezes my hand. “Are you sure? I can throw you a gender reveal party if you want? Or we can do something with just the two of us?” 

I didn’t want to hurt Claudias feelings, but it wouldn’t be the same without jack. 

I must have took too long to answer though, because the ultrasound tech looked at me with pity filled eyes as she said, “i’ll put the gender info in an envelope for you to take home”

All i could do was nod. 

⋆ ★

“Im sorry, blair.. But you lost the baby”

“where’s chuck?”

“B, he lost a lot of blood, and he never woke up” 

Gossip girl season 5 played in the background as I picked at my newest pregnancy craving, strawberry cupcakes from a bakery off seventh ave. 

i sighed heavily as i continued watching the show. this has got to be the saddest episode… i thought as blair started praying for chucks survival. As the scene went on, tears pricked my own eyes as i thought about the past five months. 

i was almost done with my 2nd trimester, and i was still refusing to acknowledge my pregnancy. I felt as if i were walking through water, i was restricted in all of my movements and my mind was cloudy like i had just spent all day in the michigan summer sun. 

The episode finished, with blair telling chuck that she loved him but that she couldn’t be with him and that she couldnt tell him why. 

When the screen turned black and i was faced with my reflection, i started sobbing. 

Heavy tears rolled down my cheeks and fell onto my duvet, which turned the cream coloured blanket into spots of grey. 

Without thinking, I rolled out of bed and threw on a thick sweater that I found strewn against a chair backing. I wandered out into my entryway, shoving on a pair of my mini uggs as I searched high and low for that stupid little envelope that my tech gave me. 

It was in my purse, hidden behind a hundred other little things. Once the envelope was grasped firmly in my hands, i ripped open my door and rushed down onto the street. 

I didn’t have a lot of time to think this through. If i placed the order now, everything would be okay and fine...

Truth be told, i was afraid that if i didn’t order a gender reveal cupcake that i would be doing my baby a disservice. I promised to myself that i would be able to do this without jacks support, and yet here i was crumbling under the pressure of motherhood. 

The bakery shop chimed with my arrival, and then i was in the small line up to make an order. 

“Hey, what can i get for you tod-”

“Can i get a gender reveal cupcake? Or one of those little cakes?” i ask, thrusting my envelope into the guy at the registers hands. 

He looked taken aback before responding very politely, “i’m sorry, you’re going to have to make an order online” 

“Oh,” my shoulders sag in disappointment. I hadn't thought far enough ahead. 

the guy stared at the crumpled up envelope in his hand, and then back at me. “Why don’t you go sit down and i’ll figure something out for you,” his voice was kind as he noticed my dishevelled state. 

I nod, and then move to an empty seat in the corner of the bakery. Another employee was sweeping the floors, and i realize that the store must be due to close soon. I need to pull myself together… 

About ten minutes later, the guy from before walked over with a little white box in his hand. On top of the box sat my envelope which was now cleanly cut into. 

“It’s not the prettiest thing in the world,” the guy chuckled as he placed the small box in front of me, “but it should work” 

“Thank you,” i stutter, pulling a crisp $10 bill out of my pocket and handing it over to the guy. 

At first he shakes his head in an attempt to decline the money, but I insist he takes it anyway. 

back at home, i get comfy at my kitchen table where i finally open up my box. It was a vanilla cupcake with white vanilla frosting. 

I take a deep breath before taking a small bite, and when i swallow, i see the remaining pink icing that filled the inside of the cupcake. 

“we’re having a little girl,” i whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks as i rub my bump soothingly. 

⋆ ★

Jack Hughes was stuck. He felt bad for Vivienne and he felt bad for himself. It wasn’t Viviennes fault that his attention was elsewhere because on paper, Vivienne Aiden was probably who most would consider his perfect match. 

Vivienne was gorgeous, she had an online career going for her, and her apartment did smell amazing… but something just wasn’t right. 

When she fell asleep beside him, Jack would pull out his phone and scroll through his photo album full of pictures of his ex-girlfriend. He would wonder what she was doing, what new journalist piece she was working on, and most importantly, if she was happy. He couldn’t bear searching her up online, for fear of seeing she had moved on (which, let's be honest, is very hypocritical of him), so Jack settled with his photo album. 

When Jack finally closed his eyes for the night, he imagined the sleeping figure next to him was his y/n. Vanilla scent was swapped with coconut, a windy spring turned into an endless summer, and the lingering emptiness felt like coming home after a long roadie. 

And in the morning, when y/ns lovely green eyes woke him up, he would blink to find Vivienne staring back at him, and whatever relief he had accustomed himself with in sleep came crashing down again. 

⋆ ★

ynuser posted on their story! 

jackhughes posted on their story!

Vivienne posted on their story!

⋆ ★

Vivienne wasn’t an idiot. she could feel the small shifts in Jack's behaviour. He was slowly distancing himself from her and she wouldn't allow that to happen. 

Therefore, she sent him a teasing photo, planned a romantic dinner at her apartment, and took care of business. 

Create an Account

User: user257483475

ynuser

Dm Request

User257483475: how does it feel knowing that you’re going to be a single mom?

User257483475: must be tough knowing that the daddy doesn’t want it

User257483475: if i were you i wouldn’t even try

Read

⋆ ★

“I can’t believe you're having a little girl!” Claudia squealed as she met me at the front of a baby store. I was now 6 months along, and I hadn’t done any of the necessary baby shopping yet. 

We walked into the store, light pinks and blues and purples clouding my vision. “I can't believe it either! A little girl…” I smile, picking up a little onesie. 

Claudia gets a basket, and we start to make our way through the store. “Have you thought of any names yet?” she asks as she holds up what might've been the cutest baby dress i’ve ever seen. 

I placed the dress in the basket. “I’ve been toying with a few names but it just feels strange” I pick up another little dress and put it in the basket as well. “I’m sure once I see the nursery all together it’ll feel a little more real and i’ll be able to pick something out” 

Claudia smiles at me sympathetically before taking the shopping basket out of my hand and guiding me towards the furniture section.

“I was thinking-” my phone buzzes causing me to pause. I pull out my phone, only to see a few instagram notifications. 

User257483475: viviennes so pretty, i bet you're real jealous huh?

User257483475: jack didn't even want to post you publicly and now he wont even acknowledge his baby… he never loved you.

User257483475: i wish you the worst xx

Read

“y/n? What were you thinking?” Claudia asks, immediately noticing my pause. She walks over to me, one hand on my shoulder as she tries to gauge my facial expressions. “Are you okay?”

I don't want to speak, and so I thrust my phone into Claudia's hands. 

She gasps when she reads the first message from a few weeks ago, and I can feel her tense beside me as she lets her hand drop from my shoulder.

“What the fuck!” she seethes as she stares at all the messages littering my phone.

“How do they know the baby’s Jacks? How do they even know I'm pregnant? My account’s private!” I utter as I close my eyes. 

“Who’s Vivienne?” Claudia asks as she switches out of my dms and onto the search page. I watch her type in Vivienne's name.

“She’s Jack’s girlfriend,” I reply just as Claudia presses on her instagram account. The newest picture on her feed was of her and Jack at some cafe… I felt nauseous. 

“Well, she’s obviously the one sending the messages” my best friend states firmly. Great I thought. Could my life get any more fucked up? 

That night at home, I easily verifiy that it was Vivienne behind the account. For all the scheming she liked to do, she wasn’t very good at covering her tracks. 

First, I used my laptop to try and log into her main instagram account. When I got the password wrong, I clicked the option for instagram to send a code for password resetting via email. The email, half unblurred, showed up on screen. Then, i moved onto the account who’s been sending me nasty messages. Repeated the process, and wouldn’t you know! Vivienne Aiden didn’t doesn’t know how to make a fake email for her fake account, that she uses to harass her boyfriend's ex! Nice. 

With that little confirmation, I blocked both her and the account she’s using to send me messages. 

⋆ ★

My baby’s nursery is painted a soft pink. Her crib is a beige wood, and there’s white flowy curtains with a blackout curtain set underneath. flower prints decorate the walls, and my baby’s name is highlighted on a beautiful homemade blanket which was gifted to me by one of my coworkers. 

“Are you ready, baby?” my mom asks to which I nod. I watch her silently as her hands weave between different sets of baby clothes.

She’s helping me get the nursery finished for babygirls birth next month. 

“I’m nervous, but i’m ready,” I smile, waddling over to the blush pink rocking chair that sits in the corner of the room. 

⋆ ★

“i’m not ready! i need jack!” i cry, squeezing my eyes shut tight as pain overtook my body. i could hear the nurses faintly in the background of my own thoughts, shouting something about an excess of blood. 

a group of nurses stand around me, all shouting different orders to one another. “ma’am you’re bleeding-“ 

“i need, i just need-“ 

a sweet looking nurse cut me off. “sweetie, you’re going to be alright. just breathe, i’ll be right here with you this whole time!” she grabs ahold of my hand to which i squeeze tightly. 

the room spins and my whole body feels cold. I could tell that the nurses started going about their business from all the pinching and poking that was going on, but i couldn’t figure out where all the pain was coming from.

⋆ ★

“Mommy?” I whispered. My mom whipped her head in my direction upon my words. 

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, tears lingering in her eyes as she sits on the edge of my hospital bed. she grabs ahold of my hand. 

“Is…” I start to ask about my daughter but a cry falls from my lips. 

My mom grabs my hand tighter and brushes my hair out of my face. “She’s in the NICU, but the nurses say she’s doing well” 

“Can I see her?” my voice is hoarse. My mom jumps up from the bed and fills an empty paper cup with water. She passes the cup to me, and I gratefully drink its contents. 

“I’ll go get a nurse, okay? She’ll tell you everything you need to know”

I had been asleep for roughly ten hours after my daughters birth. The doctor told me that the pain I woke up to last night was from blood clots, which is the reason behind all the blood and the premature birth. Luckily though, I was pretty close to full term, and I got to the hospital at the perfect time therefore babygirl would only have to stay at the NICU for a few short weeks to monitor her development. 

“what’s her name, sweetheart?” my mom whispered softly to me while her hand ghosted across hairline.

“Leighton Rowe LN,” I replied sleepily as I stared at my baby in my arms. Leightons sweet face suddenly made all the pain worth it.

my mom brushed my damp hair out of my face. “that’s beautiful,” she cooed, and when she gestured towards the baby I tiredly nodded.

as my mom took my baby out of my arms to coddle, i let my eyes close and then i softly drifted off to sleep.

⋆ ★

It was a few months later when it happened. claudia was at my apartment, watching leighton while i ran around the city to get some much needed errands done. i stop at my favourite coffee shop, a place that i hadn’t been to since jack and i broke up. 

i order my usual, a mocha to go, and when i turn to leave jack had just opened the door. I stumble back, not prepared to see jack in the flesh. He looks familiar and yet completely different. 

“y/n,” he greets me, his tone uncertain as he takes a step towards me. How dare he.

“If your girlfriend sends me one more fucking text i swear i’ll ruin her life” i start, my words threatening as i let the weight of viviennes words fall onto my shoulders. for months shes been creating new accounts and messaging me, and despite hitting the "block all and future accounts" feature she still managed to harass me.

“I get that you don’t want to have a baby, but she’s here, and I'm capable of doing it without you. I have been doing it without you. So get your girlfriend to stop harassing me or i’ll press charges,” i spit out, pushing past a shell-shocked jack and storming out onto the street. 

⋆ ★

“I have a baby!” jack shouts angrily, kicking one of vivienne's wooden dinning room chairs. “You hid my baby from me!” 

Vivienne stares, glassy eyed as she watches her boyfriend stomp around her apartment. “Jack, i didn’t mean for it to go this far i-”

“You what? What was the plan here?” he shouts again, running a hand frustratingly through his hair. Jack stops, whipping around to face vivienne again. “Show me the messages.”

“What?” she cries. 

“y/n said you were sending her messages. Show me them” jack repeats, causing vivienne to jump up in alarm. If he saw even half of the things she sent…

Jack storms up to vivienne who immediately pulls her phone out of her pocket. She switches onto one of her many burner accounts used to send y/n messages. 

Jack sat on the couch, hunched over while he read through every single message. He felt sick. 

he hates you

It must suck knowing that your child's dad doesn't want her

Jacks going to be the best daddy to our future baby… its too bad he didn’t want that for you. 

“Jack we can fix this, i swear i’ll do better and-”

Jack stood up abruptly, letting viviennes phone tumble to the ground with a loud thud. “We’re- we’re past done. I don't even know what to say to you,” jack stutters, tears falling steadily down his cheeks. 

“Baby, i’m so sorry” vivienne cries. she tries to reach out to jack, be he swats her hands away. 

Jack backs away, and without another word he leaves viviennes apartment with the slam of a door.  he had to make this right to y/n and his... baby.

-

part three

[hotpinkstars]

ESPRESSO - aventurine x reader

- "now he's thinkin' bout me, everynight, oh, is it that sweet? i guess so." or, how does aventurine do when he's in love?

- GUYS GUYS QUEEN SABRINA DROPPED A SINGLE i've been listening to this for days and i needed to write about it sooooooooooo yeah! anyways i'll get to writing probably a few requests tomorrow and wednesday (expect 4-5 posts between those days to make up for my absence) and yeahhhhhh enjoy!!

- aventurine might be a little ooc, mentions of his trauma (so penacony main quest spoilers), reader confesses at the end. wc 1067

Aventurine doesn’t know what to do when he first figures out that the feeling in his chest whenever he saw you was because he liked you. He probably tried to deny it, until Topaz caught him blushing like crazy after you walked away from the conversation you two had just finished. (Even then, she had to tell him, and then he spent a long time thinking that possibility through. She might have been right). 

You plague his visions. Why does he always want something to do with you? Why does he always want to be in your space, but also never wants to see you again? You’ve noticed his weird behavior, considering you were one of the first people he’s ever genuinely called a friend, but didn’t really think too far into it. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from paying more attention to it, that's for a fact. Sometimes you’d pay more attention to his body movements around you, the way he speaks, his etiquette, etc. You and Topaz communicate through it, and it’s a little bit different from his conversations with her. 

You know he can be cocky. Like, very cocky. You know he’s not too afraid to talk back, to challenge someone to a gamble (spoiler he wins), and to be reckless. Though, you also know about his backstory. So you can kind of understand where he’s coming from. 

He’s been pretty open with you about all of the things he’s endured. You know his real name, he’s described how his family has looked, and he’s described his years he endured slavery and what his home planet was like. You know about the Men in Black and the Katicans. And you know how traumatized he is.

Now, you’ve known him for a long, long time before this. You welcomed him into the IPC when Jade first announced his arrival, and you kind of showed him the ropes. He thought you seemed kind, so he stayed in contact with you.

You’ve watched him change, all of his progress through life, the hard times and the good times, and so much more. And that's what gets him the most, he thinks. 

He never realized how much he trusted you until he realized he liked you. You know every single thing about this man, which was the reason why he was rather… nervous when he’d have to communicate with you face to face. He did a good job at keeping up his front he uses to talk to people, but you sensed a slight form of stress underneath all the layers he put up to look tough. 

He lays awake, thinking about you. You’ve made part of his mind your home, and it’s the part he comes back to over and over again. You replay in his mind like a good song that he can’t get enough of- on, and on, and on, and on. 

He does like to bring you little trinkets he finds pretty when he goes out in public to do some shopping. Considering how wealthy he is, he could probably afford to buy out the whole store, so if you even mention something you like to him, he’s on his way to find it for you. He likes to think of it as he’s buying your kindness, but you think something completely different. You enjoy his sudden gift giving, not just because of your gain, but because he thought about you enough to do such a thing. It always makes you slightly blush before laughing while opening the box presented in front of you. He thinks that's the most precious part about your time spent together; all of the opportunities he gets to listen to your gorgeous laughter and see your flawless smile. Topaz, pinch the man, he’s in his own personal dreampool.

Oh, how bad he wants to confess to you, but he’s really afraid of rejection. He fears losing you entirely, fears that you won’t look at him like you always do if he asked if you two could be a thing. He fears you’d think he was odd for wanting you to himself, and that you’d slowly back away until you refuse to even look at his broken, battered form any longer. The thought makes a shiver crawl up his back. He can’t lose you too. 

All this man asks is to find a way to remove you from his head. You’re absolutely tormenting him! Notice how he’s been lacking on his work lately, always caught in a daze when he’s sitting down at his desk? That’s you he’s daydreaming about. He’s no good with his emotions. He knows how to hide sadness, fear, and anger, but he’s never been in this boat before. Love is a whole new concept to him. 

“Aventurine, you’ve been out of it lately. Tell me, is something the matter?” You barge through the blonde's office, not even bothering to knock. You know you don’t have to, he’s never doing anything so significant in that tiny space that it needs to be kept private.

“What are you saying? Nothings up with me,” he drops his pen in the small plaster pen cup you bought for him. “Work has been tiring lately. Nothing to stress over.” 

You plop into the chair in front of his desk, resting your arms on the top and putting your head in between your palms.

“I can tell when you lie. Tell the truth.”

He looks away. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t get you out of his brain, and that you’re the only thing he can focus on? That’ll scare you off for sure!

“Aventurine?? You there?” you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze once more. “You know, you don’t have to lie. I already know what you’re thinking.”

His eyes slightly widen, just enough for you to notice. You giggle very lightly before continuing on with your sentence. “You have a little crush, don’t you? Don’t worry, I like you back. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doesn’t know if he wants to faint or make out with you right now. “So that makes us…?”

“I don’t know. We could remain friends, we could be boyfriend girlfriend, whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Well, he believes he already knows the answer he’s choosing.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the brie

buttercup, chapter two

a/n: i was originally gonna go into more detail and dive into and actually write the traumatic moments, but i decided to go a little bit more easy on myself, just focus mostly on the healing part and regaining the good.

summary: “well, we’re going out to our usual watering hole, or it’s not just us, Karen, who works with us, is also tagging along. Would you wanna join? Might be fun… might tear the city up, dance all night and watch the sunrise or whatever kids do these days.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, wingman foggy, reference to croissant theft, alcohol consumption, drunk munching on cheese, kissing, crying, retelling of trauma (if it gets too much for you, then please feel free to just skip the last part of this chapter)

word count: 4978

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Scooping one divided lump of dough closer with the bench scraper in your grasp, you put it down before first folding the bottom of the blob over itself, then the sides and then stretched the top down as well before you rolled it all up to create that much more tension in the loaf. As you plopped the soft mass into one of the nearby dusted bannetons, nippily pinching the seam and giving it a few stitches, the ingrained dance only kept on as your fingers moved on to shape the next loaf of sourdough. 

To your left, not at the central table where you worked, stood your uncle Howard, a piping bag of vanilla-flaked cream in his grasp as his rotund frame bent over rows and rows of delicate, flaky little pastries, filling the sunken centre up before he could top them off with little chunks of crimson berries. 

“Are you alright, cupcake?” you glanced up to see Walter leaning against the doorframe that led directly behind the counter, “you look like you’re about to nosedive into the dough and use it as a pillow.”

“I’m alright, just didn’t sleep much last night,” you blinked back down at your work, noting how your weary eyes stung slightly from the lack of rest, “I had a nightmare that was really, really not fun, and immediately when I woke up I started crying and shaking, like instant panic attack, so I couldn’t really fall asleep again after that,” you glanced back up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I just don’t get why it has to feel so real,” you let your hands halt their waltz as you shared, Howard too glancing over in your direction, “why my body needs to remember it so vividly when I fall asleep. It hasn’t forgotten it while I’m awake, so I don’t feel like I need the reminders… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s–…” instead of uttering the painful truth, Walter instead let a heavy sigh flow and offered, “…do you want me to make you a cup of coffee? Maybe that could be nice, just a little bit?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, “thanks,” before clapping the worst of the flour off your hands, briefly wiping them against the chocolate brown apron that partially covered your t-shirt and jeans, and wandered around the table, shadowing Walter as he fiddled with the espresso machine, making it hum and puff, till he handed you a steaming mug that had a little heart in the frothy foam floating on the top. 

“Here you go.”

Bringing it up to your lips, you offered him a genuine smile, “thank you, Walt.”

Staying behind the counter as Walter disappeared into the back, the chime of the small bell above the door brought your attention to the pair that then strolled in. Setting down your latte and expecting it to be just any other customer, your eyes instead went wide as you saw who it was.  

“Heya, neighbour!” 

“Y/n, hi,” Matthew smiled as both he and the floppy-haired man beside him came to a stop on the other side of the stocked display case, “uh, Y/n, this is my friend Foggy Nelson,” he gestured to the friendly looking fellow, “Foggy, this is my new neighbour Y/n.”

“The pastry goddess!” Foggy exclaimed excitedly, “I bow to the.”

“Goddess?” you giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you glanced over at Matt, secretly in hopes that he’d gotten that nickname from him, “oh, I don’t know about that. My uncle’s the one who oversees most of the pastries. He studied in Paris back in the 70’s, so in other words he’s a bit of a control freak. But, he is getting better! Slowly letting me take care of more things that I’m more than capable of doing… I’m talking a lot, aren’t I?” you sucked in a sharp breath as you noticed 

your rambling, “I’ll shut up. The point was just that he is the one who makes most of the pastries here, not me. He’s the goddess.”

“Well, I tasted one of your croissants the other day–”

“Actually,” Matt raised a hand and interrupted his friend, “you stole it.”

“I did not–”

“You came over and I turned away for two seconds and the next thing I knew you’d obliterated the entire bag.”

“That sounds more like your problem,” Foggy joked, managing to keep a straight face as Matt chuckled, “you’ve known me how many years now? You should know not to trust me with baked goods unless you mean for me to enjoy them,” turning his attention back to you, he leaned his folded arms against the tall section of the counter, “anyways, Y/n, that croissant was properly one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” your face lit up with a bright grin. 

“Yes, it was so buttery and flaky and urgh!”

“Well, if you liked that, you might like today’s special…” your feet began to carry you further to the left to the very far side of the counter. 

“Oh, please do tell me,” he followed along like a magnet.

Pointing down to the pastry row on the other side of the glass, you explained, “it is this rhubarb danish that also has a little base of pastry cream at the bottom to balance out the tart compote.”

“Oh… my… god…” Foggy nearly salivated, his hypnotised gaze never straying from the treat, “you gotta be some angel sent from above.” 

Busting out a laugh, you grabbed a brown paper bag, “should I take that as confirmation?”

“Yes, please,” he nodded as you plucked one up with a set of tongs. 

“Will that be all?”

“I don’t know if it ever can be all, but slowly but surely I’ll get through your spread, and that is a promise,” Foggy accepted the bag into his waiting fingers, “but for now, yeah.”

“Matt, do you want anything?” you asked, feeling the flutter of butterflies wake up within your stomach as you returned your attention to him, “do you want me to describe the options for you?”

“No, I’ll just have the same as Foggy, as well as–, do you sell coffee?”

“Oh,” the scent wafting off your half-empty mug probably caught his attention, “yes, we do.”

“Then I’ll have a cup as well.”

“Oh, one for me too,” Foggy interjected. When you’d packed up another pastry and filled up two to-go cups, the shaggy-haired man pipped up as they were paying, “hey, what are you doing later tonight?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Properly just head home and rewatch some series for the billionth time,” you said, putting the cash they’d handed you away in the register, “why?”

“Well, we’re going out to our usual watering hole, or it’s not just us, Karen, who works with us, is also tagging along. Would you wanna join? Might be fun… might tear the city up, dance all night and watch the sunrise or whatever kids do these days.”

A laugh then rumbled within Matt’s chest, “we’re not gonna go dancing, Foggy.”

“You never know,” Foggy sang, “I’ve got moves like you wouldn’t believe!” he snuck a small sip of his steaming coffee before meeting your eye, “so, Y/n! Please tell me you’re coming?”

“…and then Karen was like what’s that? Turns out a giant piece of glass had stabbed my side,” Foggy clutched onto his drink as he told his dramatic tale, “I nearly died.”

Cutting her sip of beer short, the golden-haired woman sitting beside him at the round bar table objected, “you did not nearly die.”

“Oh yeah?” Foggy squinted light-heartedly back at Karen, “says the person who barely got a scratch. I single handily rescued both you and Mrs. C from that building and got a sick ass scar to prove it.”

Their voices faded away like grown-ups in a Saturday morning cartoon as you glanced back down at your drink and let the radiating heat of the man next to you seep into your bones. As your fingers brushed down the sides of the glass and played with the condensation, Matt suddenly reached out for his own, though in his search for the stout glass that stood ever so close to your own, his touch briefly grazed against your skin. But if that wasn’t enough to spike your heart rate, when his long fingers enveloped his short glass, the back of his hand pressed up against yours at the proximity.

You weren’t sure how long it persisted before he raised his dark drink up to his lips, but it didn’t seem like he was in a rush to let the contact fade. Your breath managed to grow ragged in the chunk of time you got to stare down at his hand, it looking so massive up against yours. Though the light in the dingy bar was low, you could still manage to make out the dizzying pattern of prominent veins that cascaded off the back of his hand like a calm rainfall rolling down a windowpane. 

For a moment there, assisted by the few drinks in your system, you let yourself dream, just for a little while, just until Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and stirred you from your fantasy. 

“… I mean, am I right? I’m right. Come on, Y/n, back me up here!”

“Huh? I’m sorry, uhm…” you blinked, in some ways feeling more drunk than you had a minute ago, “wha–what did you say?”

As Foggy then began to explain what you’d missed, Matt leaned down close to your ear and whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin and causing goosebumps to erupt. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed fuzzily. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you glanced down and noticed how rapidly your chest was rising and falling. 

“Do you wanna go home? I can walk with you if you want,” he offered quietly. 

“Uhm…” you blinked up at him before uttering, “sure, but I don’t wanna end your night before you want to.”

“No, you’re not,” he reassured you, “I’m ready to go home myself.”

“Alright then,” you nodded before Matt turned to the others. 

“Guys, we’re gonna head home.”

“No!” Foggy boomed, “really?”

Throwing her hands up, Karen added, “but we haven’t even gone dancing yet!”

“Sorry,” Matt got up from his tall stool, “another night.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you tugged your jacket back on, “I had a lot of fun.”

To your surprise, they both got up and hugged you in return.

“Thank you for coming!” Karen gave you a tight squeeze before Foggy took over. 

“And we’ll be seeing you for the next one, right?”

“Uh, sure,” you gave his back a light pat, “if I have time and stuff the day that it happens, then I’d love to tag along.”

Casting his glance upon the other lawyer, “bye, Matt,” Foggy then yanked him into an embrace, “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Matt chuckled, clapping his friend’s spine, “I know, buddy.”

“You love me too, right?” Foggy pulled back, though still kept his hands fast on Matt’s broad shoulders, “don’t leave me hanging, it’s bad for a man’s health.”

“Foggy, I started a firm with you. Of course, I love you,” Matt smiled back at his sloshed pal, “good night.”

“Night, night,” Foggy patted his scruffy cheek before letting him out of his gasp, though adding as you turned to exit the bar, “night, Y/n! I love you too! I just met you today, but I love you!”

Soft giggles bubbled out of you as the door slammed shut behind you. 

“So, those are your friends...” you smiled into the night, “I like them. They’re nice.”

“Yeah,” the corners of Matt’s lips turned further up till dimples bloomed, “they’re good eggs.”

As the two of you began to move along, the silence didn’t last very long at all. 

“This is really nice of you, walking me home like this,” you uttered, “I know it’s just because we’re neighbours and headed in the same direction, but–”

“It’s not.”

“What?” your eyes found him.

“It’s not because we’re neighbours. It’s just, you know, the decent thing to do.”

“Right,” you exhaled, casting your glance back down onto the sidewalk as you momentarily got your hopes up. 

“And you know how this city can be,” Matt went on, “it’s not smart for anyone to walk alone at night.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “of course.”

When a street then appeared before you, slicing the path you journeyed on, and even though there wasn’t any traffic in sight, your hand still instinctively shot down to grasp Matt’s forearm before the two of you could cross.

Realising what you’d done, you quietly muttered, “sorry,” though couldn’t find the strength to withdraw your touch just yet. 

“It’s okay,” his low voice slid from his lips like silk. 

“I just didn’t want you to walk straight out into ongoing traffic...” you tore your gaze away from him and forced yourself to look at the road before you, “but there aren’t any right now, so we can cross the street…”

Guiding his palm up to the curve of your elbow, he accepted the gentle aid as you began to cross the lane. 

Once you’d reached the other side and his grasp slowly began to drift back down. When his palm reached the height of your own, you softly caught it before timidly testing, “…do you mind if we–…”

“Hold hands?” with a gentle smile, he filled in before you might wonder if he could even sense your shy touch at all.

“Yeah…”

“No,” you felt him weave his fingers with your own, “not at all.” 

His touch somehow felt even better than you’d imagined. Though surprisingly gruff, with harsh calluses all throughout, he cradled your palm with such care, like he’d held it a thousand times before, occasionally swiping his broad thumb over your knuckles, presumably just a subconscious gesture from his end that still caused shivers to trickle down your spine every time he did so. 

You wanted the latter part of your walk home to last forever, engulfed in the comfortable silence of endless possibilities. But alas, when you did reach your building’s front door and then climbed the steps all the way up to your respective apartments, you couldn’t get yourself to let go just yet. 

“Are you hungry? Because I kinda am,” you weren’t really, but anything to just stretch the night a little longer, “or maybe it’s just my subconscious taking care of me and lessening my hangover by giving me a sudden craving for cheese.”

“I don’t think I have any cheese.”

“I do,” you said maybe a bit too fast, “do you want some?”

Exhaling lowly, a soft smile twitched at his lips as he then uttered, “sure.”

As you unlocked your door, you finally let go of his hand, “make yourself at home!” you placed your keys down on the slender entry table before kicking your shoes off and peeling off your coat, hanging it up on the row of hooks, “oh, do you want me to, uh, describe the layout for you? Or just plant your down on the couch?”

“Just tell me the direction and I think I’ll be fine.”

Facing him, you haphazardly explained, “alright, the hallway goes on for a few steps and then it’s to your right–, no, wait, my right, that’s your left. It’s to your left.”

Whirling around, you delved deeper into your home till you reached the kitchen. Ripping open the fridge, you snatched up a block of half-eaten cheese before seizing a clean butter knife from the dishrack and a roll of seedy crackers from a cupboard. 

Matt was already comfortable on your sage couch as you laid the humble spread out on the coffee table and joined him. 

“I hope you like brie because that’s what I got. Unless you want a single slice of american cheese, then this is all the cheese I have to offer.”

“Brie it is then,” he relaxed into the cushions as you unwrapped the snack. 

“Here, let me make you a bite,” slicing off bits of soft cheese, you spread it both on a cracker for him and one for you. Gently picking up his hand to place his snack in his palm, you then popped your own in your mouth and nearly melted into the couch next to him, “yep… that’s the spot…” you grinned hazily out the tall windows at the night sky as you chewed, “there’s just something about eating cheese when the moon is out that’s just so right in a way I can’t describe…” 

Your murmuring conjured a light chuckle to rumble within Matt, one that swayed your gaze to train on him. Resting your head against the back of the couch, you watched as the moonlight reflected in his tinted glasses. 

When the silence stretched on, Matt eventually cocked his head, “…what?”

Not tearing your eyes off of him, you breathed, “nothing…”

“You’re quiet,” his dark brows furrowed gently, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you repeated, feeling almost like you were floating in a calm sea. 

“You tired? Do you want me to go so that you can go to bed?”

“No, please don’t, I–…” you reached out and grazed his arm, “could–… do you want to go?”

Letting his body relax once more, he breathed, “not particularly…”

Gazing up at him, your bottom lip snuck its way in between your teeth, “Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“You–… you’re–… I–…” your pulse pounded in your ears. 

“Mhm?”

“I really, really wanna kiss you right now…” you uttered thickly before you had the chance to chicken out. Like a wave crashing a shore, you didn’t even think as you let yourself dive in and press your lips to his. The kiss however didn’t last too long as you swiftly drew back as soon as your brain turned back on and you realised what you’d done, an apology hastily rushing out of your lungs, “Oh my god… I am so sorry.”

“Y/n,” hearing your name on his silky tongue did not help matters. 

“I didn’t mean to just–”

“Y/n,” he repeated, trying to cut through your fog. 

“We can just forget any of that ever happened, I totally get it if you don’t–”

As he brought his hands up to cradle the sides of your face, your nervous ramble fell short. When he ghosted his thumb across your cheekbone, you swore that you stopped breathing entirely. 

“…can I kiss you?” he slowly asked, leaving you utterly dazed. 

“W-what?”

Drawing in a breath, he repeated for you, “can I kiss you, Y/n?”

Blinking back at him, you hazily hummed, “mhm,” before he leaned in and brushed his lips against your own. The kiss was soft, just as your shoddy attempt had been, but it made your limbs feel like they morphed into jelly. When the pecks soon departed, you filled your lungs with a shaky breath as you gazed back at him in total awe, “holy shit…” only staying there a moment before you had to have another taste. 

Slowly growing more confident, the intoxicating kiss gradually grew more hungry. When his fingers then weaved into your hair, you realised that up till now he’d been holding himself back, gatekeeping a kiss that caused your frame to crawl into his lap, starving for more. Your little whimpers vibrated against his tongue as he danced it against yours, growing dizzy as you melted into the heart-stopping sensation. 

But suddenly a tormenting flash stabbed your being, and you abruptly tilted your lips away from his, breathlessly uttering, “wait, wait, there’s-, there’s-, uh…”

“What,” he breathed thickly, nose grazing yours before you retracted further, “are you okay?” 

“I’m…” carefully crawling off his lap, you kept going till you were a safe distance away on your own side of the couch, “Matt, there’s something I need to–, uhm, tell you…”

Staying silent, he patiently waited as you gathered up the courage needed to jump off the cliff and tell him.

Casting your gaze up to the tall and dark ceilings above, you felt your limbs begin to tremble, “okay, alright… I have no idea how to, uh, say this, so I’m just gonna do it,” and like a band-aid, you uttered, “I-, I was raped,” your eyes squeezed shut, not daring to risk glancing at his reaction, “a little over a year ago… and I haven’t–, uhm, done or tried anything with anyone since… so yeah, I just thought that was a good thing for you to know since even though I hope for there not to be any problems, I just don’t know, I don’t know what it will be like for me, if my body will suddenly freak out, but I just wanted to tell you so that in case something does happens, that you know not to automatically take it personally...” drawing in a shaky breath, you fluttered your gaze open and waited for his response, “Matt?”

“Yeah?” he answered carefully. 

“Please don’t say that I’m scaring you away right now…” you shifted your position, turning to face him once more.  

“You’re not, you’re not,” his head softly shook from side to side, “I just–… I really, really sorry.”

“Yeah…” you exhaled slowly, feeling tears sting the corners of your eyes, “me too…” staring at him a moment, you then bared your all and uttered, “I really like you, Matt,” a faint smile accompanied the declaration, “I think you might be the only guy in all of New York that I’m not scared of,” every other man you could think of had all had at least a second, a little flicker, of something that over the past year had terrified you, “and I don’t want you to think that I’m made of glass, that’s not what I want, that’s not why I’m telling you this. Please trust me when I say that I want to, I wanna do–…” a weighty exhale flowed from your lungs as your lips remembered his taste, “I wanna do everything with you… if–, if that’s something you’d like as well… but if we do, even though I really, really want to, I think it’s probably smartest to go slow, no pressure, you know, just in case, so that my body doesn’t freak out. Also, I’d really appreciate it if I at any point indicate for you to stop or even just pause a moment, that you’ll do that, that you’ll listen to me,” you briefly glanced down at your fiddling fingers, “and you know, I’m not saying let’s only do PG things, there are so, so many wonderful steps on the way that we can have fun with… I just–, I wanted to let you know now, before, so that we wouldn’t potentially have this conversation when something did happen.”

Only parting his lips when he was sure you were done, he uttered, “thank you for telling me. Are you–… are you okay? Was what happened before too much?”

“No…” you shook your head gently, “no, it wasn’t,” taking his hand in yours, you shared, “and I’m okay, I think… I mean, some days it still feels like it just happened, and others I notice something, something small, that I’ve gotten back, that I’ve regained…” absentmindedly tracing the lines of his palm with your thumb, you asked, “do you–… do you have any questions? Is there anything you wanna know?”

“No, I–… I just want you to tell me however much or little you feel comfortable with sharing.”

“…can I tell you? About it?” you asked slowly and he swiftly offered you a soft nod. Drawing in a deep breath, you began, “It, um, it was a Saturday night… I’d just gotten back from the bakery super late, maybe close to midnight… and when I was getting ready for bed, my roommate came home, he’d been out drinking as he usually spent his weekends. I remember we stayed up a while, just talking about the mundane stuff we always did. It was like any other Saturday, really. That was until I got too tired and went to go to bed, but he didn’t wanna stop talking, so he followed along into my room while I got ready and stuff,” averting your gaze, your bottom lip began to tremble, “we were just talking, it wasn’t anything special and then the next thing I knew, he was kissing me. It just–… it happened so fast… his hands were all over me… I remember he pushed me up against my closet so hard that my back was bruised the next day, and I don’t bruise that easily. He was just so wasted that I don’t think he realised or maybe even cared what he was doing. I tried to say something, tried to make him stop, but he didn’t listen to me. If he heard me, then I don’t think he understood what it was that I was saying… I would have pushed him away, slapped and hit him, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t move my body, not even a little, I just froze…” 

“I can still feel what he felt like… like my skin won’t let go of the memory…” tears rolled down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore how your palm tingled with recollection, “how he forced me to touch him and held his hand over mine, making it move as if he just thought I didn’t know what to do… he was my friend, you know? He wasn’t just some stranger who dragged me into an alley and held a knife to my throat. He was my friend. He would always make offhand jokes about seeing me as just a little sister and how he wasn’t attracted to you at all. Made such a big deal of it that I never thought he’d try anything… I have no idea how long it actually went on… I don’t even remember when it was that I landed on the bed, if it was before or after he–… after he–… did stuff, t-touched me… I just remember I was laying there when it happened. The masked man, the devil of hell’s kitchen, he ripped him off of me…”

“He’d somehow heard… I think maybe if I hadn’t opened the window that night to air out the room, he wouldn’t have saved me… he beat him up... knocked him out… he told me to call the police, but I couldn’t, so I instead asked my uncle to come get me… my body’s never shaked the way it did that night… I remember I was so confused because I wasn’t cold, didn’t get it till the masked man said I was in shock… it didn’t stop till the next night… when he was about to leave, I asked what if Mi–,” you couldn’t get yourself to utter Michael’s name out loud without feeling as if your whole world would crumble around you, “what if he woke up before Howard arrived, and so he just stayed there with me, right till he somehow heard my uncle walking up the stairs and then he slipped out the way he came in, right before I heard the front door unlock.” 

Letting out a long and unsteady breath, you raised a trembling palm up to wipe your cheeks. 

For a while, the silence got to encompass the space completely, your left hand still shaking in Matt’s as you eventually heard him ask. 

“Did you ever go to the police?”

“No. In the small window that I had to do one of those kits, I was just way too overwhelmed and confused and I just couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t do anything but relive that moment over and over again, so I didn’t do anything in time. But the longer time that passes and the more it sinks in what he did and the ways that I’m still paying for it, the things he ruined inside of me that I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to get back, the more I wish that I had gone to the police. But it’s too late now.”

“No, it’s not,” his fingers squeezed slightly around yours, “I could help you, I’m a lawyer after all.”

“No, Matt,” you said firmly, “it is. I don’t wanna sit there and hear them go oh, it’s your word against his, sorry, and have them think that not enough happened technically for them to take it seriously. Enough happened, trust me. I’m eternally grateful that Daredevil saved me from whatever else he could have done to me that night, but enough happened. Just because he didn’t stick it in me doesn’t mean nothing happened. That is the kind of belief that only belongs to people who think that the only sexual act that counts as sex is when a penis is in a vagina, and that is just so incredibly wrong,” an enraged laugh tumbled out of you as you fumed, “they are the kind of people who think that someone queer, disabled or just someone who isn’t into that sexual act isn’t actually having sex when they are. Sex is about connection, it’s about pleasure and there are endless amounts of things that can give a person pleasure,” clenching your jaw, you let out a heavy sigh, “I wish it could be different, I wish many things, I wish it hadn’t had happened at all, but it did, and I hope that at the very least he learned something from it, that he changed, that he wouldn’t do it again to someone else.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[dootdootwriting]

♡ SLEEPING with the HSR men ♡

featuring: dan heng; welt; sampo; gepard; jing yuan tw: some light cursing from me, sampo's is a bit suggestive type: fluff, a bit silly pronouns used: none a/n: recreating the genshin version of this post which went viral to announce that i'm now writing & accepting requests for HSR.... and not b*ha that was a moment of weakness sorry everyone LOL

utc for length!

DAN HENG

naps all the goddamn time

the astral express will be cruising along and he'll let out this giant yawn and march gives you the side-eye and you know. your boyfriend is about to gently grab your hand and sleepily lead you into his... room (?) for a power nap

these can last anywhere from fifteen minutes, where dan will just barely wrap his arms around you and close his eyes for a bit, to three hours, where his head will hit his unfortunately thin pillow, and he won't even have time to give you a kiss before he's down for the count

he's an incredibly heavy sleeper, which works to his benefit and his detriment

he gets nightmares relatively frequently. while they don't happen every time he gets the chance to rest, it's around a third of the time, and sometimes he'll even wake up in a cold sweat and flail around to make sure you're still with him

even if you don't wake easily, seeing your sleeping form nearby calms him down. he knows he's safe.

actually, just having you sleep next to him makes it less likely for the nightmares to appear, and eventually, he makes such a habit of getting you to come with him every time he goes to bed that he can't actually sleep without some part of his body touching you

if you're on a particular stop or for some reason you have to sleep away from him, dan heng gets little to no sleep. he clutches his pillow as a (not very effective) surrogate, and wakes up with a sore neck and less braincells than usual

he needs his beauty sleep.

if dan is asleep next to you, and you wake up before him while he's holding you, don't bother trying to get up. he won't stop you from leaving, but he'll do something even worse: he'll lightly grab your arm as you get up and look at you through one bleary eye with the haziest expression on his face, and he'll ask you to stay, please?

alright fine. after you use the bathroom. needy ass (affectionate)

WELT YANG

"i don't need sleep, i have coffee"

get into bed old man or i swear to god

welt tries to have a sleep schedule, honestly. he's just not very good at it

he's a chronic caffeine drinker, and while he knows it's not good for him, he's also a slight workaholic and when he gets into the groove of working on something, he needs to stay awake to see it through. unfortunately, this means he's often up until the early hours of the morning, and you're fast asleep in bed before he even realizes what time it is.

he makes it up to you. whenever this happens and he finds you conked out how you were waiting for him, he picks you up and puts you in a more comfortable position, and tucks you into the covers next to him once he joins you

he needs to realize that taking a nap with the love of his life is just as refreshing, if not more, than a mug with four shots of espresso is

(you have seen him go to a coffee shop and order a "quad espresso" with the most tired, deadpan expression and have the baristas look at him in awe and fear)

the type to tuck the both of you in and forget that he has his glasses on. luckily at this point pompom is an experienced glasses mender.

he has lost at least six pairs to this plight.

welt is an average sleeper, and he doesn't move around much, so despite his aversiveness to actually getting into bed, he is a good sleeping partner.

GEPARD LANDAU

gepard enjoys sleeping with you so much that bedtime is his favorite part of the day

well, for multiple reasons, actually. he really likes the intimacy that goes along with washing up together and getting ready for bed

he's one to lie awake with you for a few minutes and read or scroll through your phones or just talk to each other before you go to bed. it's his favorite time to unwind and destress from the duties of being captain.

he tries so hard to let you fall asleep first, but damn if he isn't exhausted. he usually ends up falling asleep before you.

gepard's sleep schedule is very strict and regular. he goes to bed probably between ten and eleven at night and has to wake up for work around five am (rest in peace)

this gives him anywhere between six and seven hours of sleep every night, which is just enough to get him through the day and back to you in the evening.

he's not exactly a light sleeper? he wakes pretty easily but it takes a few buzzes of his alarm before he realizes that he's supposed to be waking up then.

gepard wants so badly to be the partner who stays in bed "five more minutes" with you, or calls in sick from work just to stay in bed for the day. unfortunately, with his position, it just isn't possible, which breaks his heart every morning.

to make up for that, he leaves a note at his spot on the bed -- it's anything from "extra hard day today most likely. i'll miss you <3" to a silly, horrible doodle of him giving you a kiss

and then he's off to smack monsters over the head with his sister's guitar case

SAMPO KOSKI

"sampo koski always goes to bed on time!"

lies. or, well, he tries? i guess?

he means to, anyway... there's just always something to distract him, whether it be you, or social media, or some brand new business opportunity pinging him

being a traveler, the two of you often sleep in hotels or motels across belobog. it's not bad! sampo always reserves rooms in the nicest area nearby -- he likes to treat you to the nicest sheets and the best room service

i mean, you can't really have any fun if you're not comfortable~

smack him with a pillow please. or a brick!

doesn't have the tiniest bit of a bedtime routine. he decides he's tired, he flops on top of you, and he's out

sleeps like the dead. there is no waking sampo koski until it is time for him to wake up

the morning is when you remind him he has to shower and brush his teeth, to which he reluctantly agrees and smiles at you bashfully

which, actually, is kind of cute

this isn't to say he doesn't care about his appearance -- he DEFINITELY DOES. he just oftentimes forgets to wash up before he fals asleep.

he's another one who has to be touching you at all times while he rests. whether it be a hand, a foot, his head on your chest, your head on his chest... it doesn't matter. he likes the security he feels when he knows you're there with him.

JING YUAN

jing yuan always goes to sleep on time!

truth. he actually gets agitated when his sleep schedule is thrown off.

he has it written down in his head; his bodily clock is incredibly regimented. his sleeping times, eating times, and self-hygiene times all have to be the same every day, or his whole day feels off

he doesn't need an alarm clock. he wakes up at the same time every day, give or take a half hour. if he wakes up any earlier or later than his usual waking up zone, he goes into a sour mood as if he just knows the rest of the day will be bad.

he's another heavy sleeper. jing yuan prefers to sleep on his back and have you sleep on his chest. or on some occasions, he'll spoon you.

the lion sleeps at the foot of the bed

another part of his nightly routine is goodnight kisses and bedtime meat. he grabs a little chunk of chicken or beef for the kitty and gives each of you a kiss before he turns out the light and goes to sleep

if you prefer to stay up for a while doing your own things, he has no qualms with that, as long as it doesn't disturb his rest. things like having your phone out or a reading lamp on don't bother him -- he can go to sleep regardless of the lighting conditions.

i'm just imagining how fucked up he gets from jet lag. poor guy. aeons forbid he ever travel to a different planet with a separate passage of time

[astronicht]

23 or 24 for rosquez 🙏🙏

24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

I wrote a kind of soft one for the thigh-grabbing prompt and this is uh not like that. keeping the universe in balance! sorry in advance i guess. Kind of a companion piece, actually, to this earlier rosquez prompt snippet.

Valentino shakes awake from a dream in which someone is dead. The point at which there is a jolt into wakefulness is unclear. 

Daylight is too bright across the bed, and he can smell his own sweat. He reaches for Marc, but he isn’t used to Marc being here and goes for the wrong side of the bed. Valentino’s hand knocks over a glass of water, and a carton of pills on the side table. They skid onto the tile.

Marc isn’t in bed, exactly. He’s sitting on it, legs crossed, staring down at Valentino from the other side. One hand is braced on the mattress, taking a lot of his weight. He likes to put his weight on his bad arm, over and over. Valentino has seen him do it even when he thinks he is alone.

His good arm is holding a little espresso cup from the ranch kitchen. He is noticing Valentino’s mad scramble, but a little too slowly. His face is blank and far away.

Sometimes Marc goes very distant. It would be better if it were personal, but Valentino thinks it isn’t. He thinks the only person Marc can bear to stay present with, always, is his brother. For Valentino, this is much worse than if he simply couldn’t do it with anyone at all. It feels like penance.

“Vale?” Marc asks, that awful blankness creasing into a frown. The sharp nausea of the dream recedes, though someone is still dead.

Valentino rolls onto his elbows and stomach and rests his forehead on the mattress. He breathes, awful and shaky, but it’s better to get the bad breaths out until he’s running clean again.

“Vale?” Marc says again. His voice is less flat; he’s almost present, now. The smell of the espresso is overpowering.

“Marc,” Valentino says. His voice sounds like shit. His arms and thighs are a little tired, from fucking. “Did you figure out the espresso machine?”

“No,” Marc says slowly. The bed shifts. “No one will touch it. Bezzecchi made me a Turkish coffee.”

He’s lying. Marco doesn’t know how to make Turkish coffee, and if he did he wouldn’t be making one for Marc. It will have been Pecco. Vale is a little surprised. This means Pecco both arrived on time for morning practice and made Marc a coffee.

No one can actually work the espresso machine except for Vale, and previously, Uccio. There is no point mentioning this because Valentino does not say Uccio’s name to Marc.

The shaking is stopping. But like payback, the dropping feeling in his chest is getting worse. Valentino blinks his eyes open: bedding below him. It smells like semen. To his right is Marc, shifting, coming closer from wherever his mind was. There is a dripping sound: the glass Valentino knocked over on the nightstand. It is just water, but now it’s mostly on the floor.

He remembers reaching for Marc, because someone was dead. He had not been reaching for comfort. He had needed Marc or needed to be ill. This has not really changed.

“Is the coffee good?”

“Yeah,” Marc says. “Tell Bezzecchi nice job.”

That would be funny.

“Are you done, then?” Valentino asks.

“Sure,” says Marc.

Valentino grabs the back of his t-shirt and yanks backwards. He’s not delicate about it, and Marc instinctively snatches up the bad arm. He falls backwards onto the bed. He also lied about being done with the Turkish coffee; it splatters across Valentino’s chest and the shirt he fell asleep in sometime around six in the morning. It’s cold; Marc hadn’t even been drinking it. The smell is sweet and strong. The espresso cup hits the mattress and then thumps on the floor, trailing cold coffee grounds. You can read those like a palm or tea leaves, Vale has heard.

Valentino rolls onto Marc’s back. Under him, Marc tries to go up on his elbows— tries to lean on the bad one, lean on the bad one. Valentino grunts and doesn’t let him. It’s worth the effort: Marc groans, and says “Yeah, please—.” 

Vale fists a hand in his hair. Coffee grounds are between Vale’s fingers. His heart is going too fast.

They can’t have fucked that long ago, because they fucked at dawn right before Valentino fell asleep. Marc slept, off and on, cat-napping through Valentino’s long night, occasionally blinking like some nocturnal animal, once crying because Valentino made him come and then put Marc’s dick in his mouth and made him come again. 

Vale doesn’t know if it’s been an hour or if it’s been five since he last fucked Marc. Will he be able to get it up? He’d better. He needs to.

He holds Marc down on the bed with one hand at the back of Marc’s neck and with the other fishes around on the floor for the blister pack of pills. He gets one out with a near-steady hand and swallows it dry. Should work in twenty minutes, but Valentino has always burned through things fast, so it will be less.

Marc sees but ignores this. Valentino gets back on top of him and yanks his boxer-briefs down, nothing else. Marc says, “Ah—shit,” and arches his back. 

Valentino leans up and spreads his ass, spits on his hole. He can already feel himself starting to get hard; the pill wasn’t needed after all. Ah, well. Funny story later. His brain says that loudly over the feeling of sex: Funny story later. And, Someone is dead. He was dreaming. Water dripping. Marc on his bed here in Tavullia, first mask-like, now under him, moaning and twisting when Vale bites the back of his neck. 

Valentino wants to pound into him: ball-slapping, basic porn stuff. It is sort of crazy how he cannot stop thinking about it over and over, all night, not missing a moment. Marc was asleep a lot of the time, so Vale just watched him and wanted it, grinding his teeth, enjoying the wait — and waiting to need a break, to need a minute, a coffee, a nap. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, just knows he did sleep because of the nightmare. Marc under the line of his body bucks and says Valentino’s name.

Valentino rests his chin on Marc’s shoulder, and tries not to show that he’s breathless from holding Marc down the way Marc wants. He says into the shell of Marc’s ear, “Where did you go, hm? Have you been wandering around?”

And Marc laughs — a wheeze under Valentino’s body, as heavy as he can make it for Marc — and moans and says, eyes shut, “You were only asleep for twenty minutes.”

[sweetprfct]

Okey, I just saw your re-post of the music video of expresso by Sabrina Carpenter. And it occurred to me (bc you do a great job basing fics on songs) that you should write a fic of Joe head over heals for reader based on the song of expresso. Just giving you and idea, if you don't want to is totally Okey ❤️

Espresso

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe's thinking about you every night. Is it that sweet? You guess so.

Author's Note: To celebrate 300 followers, here's a little gift. Thank you all for the love! Currently, I have been obsessed with this song and Sabrina. So, I'm so glad that you requested this! Thank you for this! Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, smut

Wordcount: 2.1K

It was midnight. 

Joe had been tossing and turning for about an hour already, and he couldn’t seem to sleep at all. He took a deep breath and turned his body so that he was laying on his back and gazed up at the ceiling. The light from the lamp post outside slightly reflected through the crack of his window curtains. The night was quiet, and his mind kept pondering about the thought of you. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Joe whispered through your bare skin as he left repeated kisses on your bare back. 

You giggled softly, looking over your shoulder. You were laying on your stomach, and Joe had moved himself closer to you. His fingers gently tugging on the duvet to expose your bare back, his lips finding your soft skin. He planted soft kisses all over your back, his long lashes tickled your skin as his fingers stroked your back softly. 

“I can’t get enough of you, I swear.” Joe murmured. 

Chuckling softly, you turned your body to face him. Joe hovered over you as you pulled the duvet closer to your chest. He grinned happily as he leaned down and kissed you softly. His hands slowly slid the duvet away from your naked body and his hands roamed your sides. A small moan escaped your lips as he parted from the kiss and trailed his lips down and traced the line of your jaw. Then, his lips found your neck as he sucked on the skin lightly, making you moan again in his ear. 

“God, I love that sound.” He murmured through the kiss. 

“Hmm…” Smiling through the kiss, you curled your fingers through his hair and pulled him down close to you. 

Joe pressed his face on your chest, planting a soft kiss on it. If anyone would ask him, he would prefer to stay in your arms forever. He could happily stay here and just indulge in every part of you. However, that was not how life works. So now, he was laying in his bed alone and couldn’t sleep at night because all he could think about was you. All he could think about was your soft skin under his touch. The sounds you would make in his ear, and your soft lips on his skin and his lips. 

God, he was so head over heels. 

He didn’t even realize it until now. You were running in his mind 24/7 and when he tried to push the thought of you away, he only missed you even more. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he saw that it was 12:30 am already. Pursing his lips, he opened up his messages and stared at the screen for a moment. 

Still awake?

He sent the message and waited. After a few minutes, he saw the three bubbles popping up on the screen. A smile immediately tugged on his lips. 

You were working late because you had some reports that still needed to finish. Your mind has been somewhere else, and you have been trying so hard not to stress too much about your work. Though, here you were up late and finishing up reports for work. When your phone vibrated next to you on your desk, and you saw Joe’s name appear on your screen, you immediately grinned happily. You needed a little distraction after a long day.

Still working. Why are you still awake?

The text message that you sent to Joe sent a warm feeling in his stomach as he smiled at your text. 

Can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. 

Biting your lower lip, you grinned at his message. You couldn’t help but think how the last two months that you have been seeing Joe, you have been so happy. You didn’t even care about the fact that your friends kept telling you to be careful because he was an actor. That he might just immediately change his mind and find someone else. Though, that wasn’t what it was at all. 

From the way he kept calling you every night, you didn’t have the time to feel insecure at all. He kept telling you that he was always thinking about you, and he couldn’t even sleep because he only wanted to be next to you. 

He was too sweet. 

You couldn’t relate to the desperation that your friends would act when it came to their boyfriends. 

Aww! :( Want me to come over? 

You bit your nails, grinning cheekily as you waited for him to answer. Joe, who immediately sat up on his bed, reached over to turn his lamp on. He stared at your text and then shifted his eyes towards his clock on his bedside table. 

Yes, please. 

He stared at the text for a moment before deleting it. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like a 16 year old boy? At his big age too. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself for acting so stupid over you. Rubbing his forehead softly, he stared at his screen and didn’t know what to reply to your text. He never acted like this before, not even with his exes. He didn’t know what it was that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you. He couldn’t sleep because of you. He kept thinking about how beautiful you were. He kept thinking how smart you were and such a hard worker. He couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so deep in his feelings for you since you two had started seeing each other. He was feeling so drunk of you like he had drunk ten espresso shots every night before bed. 

It’s okay. It’s late. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?

He typed the text message and sent it to you. He was right though. It was literally past midnight, and he was bothering you because he couldn’t sleep. 

What an idiot. 

Exhaling a sharp breath, he set his phone down on his bedside table and gazed up at the ceiling again. After a few minutes of silence and no reply, he figured you had fallen asleep. His mind wandered back again at the thought of you. 

“Don’t be cheeky.” Joe laughed, pressing his face on your neck.

You had told him a dirty joke, and he couldn’t stop laughing. The way he was literally hooked with your humor all the time. The one little joke made him all flushed and flustered that he was hiding his face from you.

“That’s not fair. Don’t hide your cute face from me.” You grinned, lifting his head and cupping his face between your hands.

Joe’s chocolate button eyes sparkled as he gazed down at you with a loving smile. You loved seeing him like this, and you certainly love the fact that you could make him act like this. 

Sighing, Joe closed his eyes and pushed the memory away. 

He needed to sleep. 

This was getting ridiculous. 

Pulling the duvet closer to him, Joe settled himself comfortably in his bed and closed his eyes. He forced himself to really sleep and as soon as he started drifting off, he felt the mattress of the empty side of his bed dip. For a moment, he thought he was just dreaming. Then, familiar arms wrapped around his torso, and he knew exactly who it was even if his eyes were closed. 

He was thanking his little stars that he gave you that spare key for his flat.

“It’s late.” He murmured, holding in his smile as he pulled you closer to his body. 

You let out a soft approving hum, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Even in the dark, you could see his beautiful facial features as you softly stroked his cheek with your fingers. 

“You can’t sleep lately.” You whispered. “I’m worried about that.”

“It’s your fault, you know.” Joe teased.

You laughed softly, moving yourself on top of him, straddling his hips. 

“Yea?” You trailed kisses on the line of his jaw and then down his neck. 

Joe had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from moaning. He swore if he was dreaming right now, he would hate his brain in the morning for giving this much of a vivid dream about you. He was already folding for you, and his brain was now betraying him even more? 

This was so foul of his dreams to do to him. 

“Yes.” Joe gasped the word as you ran your hands down his bare chest. “I think I’ve gone mad.”

You smiled through his skin as his fingers curled around the strands of your hair as you kissed his bare chest. You loved that you could wrap him up around your finger, and he would just fold under every kiss you left on his skin. You never had anyone act like this over you, and you were enjoying every minute of it. 

He was adorable like this. 

“Hm…” You smiled, grinding against his hard member that was between your legs. “I can help you lose your mind even more.”

Joe’s fingers immediately curled at the back of your head, pulling you down for a hungry kiss. Smiling, you giggled softly through the kiss as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. Soon, he was tugging on your pants too and it joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

You reached your hand down to grab his member, wrapping your fingers around it and slowly slid himself inside of you. Both of you gasped softly as you helped him thrust inside of you. His lips were sloppily kissing you, his tongue licking your bottom lip. 

“Shit…” Joe groaned softly as he trailed kisses down your neck. 

Your hands found his headboard as your pace quickened, and it only made Joe moan louder as he found his lips on your nipple, sucking on it softly. 

“Ah—Joe.” You arched your back as he moved deeper inside of you. 

He could hear your voice sounding distorted and far away as he continued to suck your nipple and then trailed his lips up on your neck, sucking the skin softly there. He wasn’t the kind of man that loved to leave a love mark, but he couldn’t help but leave one on your neck and then on your chest. You moaned softly as you leaned down and buried your face on his neck, feeling your walls tightened around him. 

“Love, you’re so tight.” He moaned. 

You kissed him hungrily as he thrusted faster inside of you, your legs trembling and feeling the pleasure build up in your stomach. Joe had forgotten everything around him. He had forgotten what time it was. He had forgotten about the fact that this all started because he couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

You were here. 

You were really here. 

You were in his arms, and you were making him forget his name. He could feel the pleasure build up in his stomach as he flipped the both of you over, and he was hovering over you. He thrusted deeper and faster inside of you, your toes were curling and your nails were scratching down his bare back. 

“Come for me.” You whispered in his ear, making Joe tremble from the way your voice sounded in his ear. 

He usually was the one who was able to make his exes feel like this but with you, he was weak. He would do anything for you. He never felt this way about anyone before. With shaky hands, he reeled you in his arms and pressed your body against his flushed one. 

“Right there, baby.” You moaned in his ear. “Don’t stop.”

You gasped, your nails digging into his skin deeper as pleasure crashed over the both of you. Stars exploding at the back of your eyes as you screamed his name. Both of your bodies shuddered, both panting together as Joe collapsed his heavy body against yours. 

“Holy shit.” Joe cursed under his breath, still panting. “You’re literally amazing.” 

You smiled, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead and planted a soft kiss there. 

“Now, you could sleep.” You joked, making Joe scoff at your little comment. 

“No.” He whispered, pressing his face on your neck and nibbled on the skin lightly. “We’re gonna be up all night.”

You grinned widely, flipping the both of you over so you were on top of him again. 

“Hmm… Don’t challenge me.” You smiled deviously under the dark. 

“You’re the one who’s been keeping me up all night, so don’t challenge me.” Joe retorted back. 

You laughed softly, kissing him hungrily again and grabbing the duvet from behind you. Covering the both of you with the sheet, Joe tangled his fingers through your hair as you both blissfully enjoyed each other’s flushed bodies against each other. 

Time had frozen, and Joe didn’t care if he needed to be up early tomorrow morning. You were literally the espresso shot that could keep him up all day and night. 

Somehow, that was enough for him. 

********

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[writer-by-the-sea]

hello!! may i request something fluffy where a touch starved elliott is visited by a farmer who can’t sleep and wants to cuddle with him? they’re not yet dating, but there’s EXTREME romantic tension between them

Slightly BARELY NSFT, No beta, no spell check lol

The storm raged outside, the lighting illuminating my cabin, each flash of light shortly accompanied by thunder that roared so loudly it shook my bed. I sighed and stared up at the ceiling, the rain beating down on the roof and providing me with the white noise I would normally crave; but now I laid there disturbed by the storm and sleep continues to evade me.

I let my thoughts slip to the farmer… Weeks ago they told me how they can’t have trouble sleeping through the night, that they were considering pills to help them through the night. I couldn’t help by wonder how they were fairing this night. Were they just as frustrated as I? Tossing and turning under the covers and considering giving up and waiting for the morning?

All I knew was that tomorrow would be a day with many cups of coffee, perhaps even an espresso or two.

I leaned over, reaching for my bedside lamp, flicking the switch with well rehearsed practice— only for the light to ignore me. I blinked at the light, tapping the switching again, and then once more..

“Lovely,” I mumbled and stood. The power was out.

Near my desk sat an oil lamp, one that I preferred to save for emergencies; I suppose this fell into that category. I considered what I would do with my time now, writing coming across my mind. Although, as of late, anything I’ve written has only been conveying my sappy and desperate need for the touch of another.

For far too long I’ve lived in this cabin alone. Something I thought I would enjoy, but I find myself feeling more and more lonely as each day passes. These days it’s gotten to the point where I find myself starved for attention. I wander around town more often than ever, finding excuses to see the others (mostly the farmer,) and I go on to bore them with tales of my unsuccessful writings.

With my lamp lit, I found my way back to my bed, my new plan for the night to reread over my pages and correct any mistakes I come across. Forever I will misspell at minimum ten words per page.

I may be a writer but I am no expert at spelling, ironic as it may be.

Just as I began to settle back in bed, there’s a knock at the door.

Unusual, but it wouldn’t be the first time Willy visited in the dead of the night. He might be in need of some snacks if he saw Sebastian earlier in the day, or asking for help to shovel rain water out of his shop again.

I groaned and slipped out of bed, now giving up on my plans and preparing myself for Willy’s visit. A night of fishermen’s stories and tellings of his childhood. Not that I minded it, but I would rather relax tonight..

The knocking came again, urging me to open it and let them in. Part of me was tempted to ignore it, to pretend to be sleeping and leave Willy on his own — as rude as it may be.

But then—

“Elliott?” A voice called from outside my door, helpless and scared.

I ran to the door, flinging it open to reveal the farmer standing there. Drenched from head to toe, but still smiling as I greeted them. “Oh my goodness!” I cried and stepped back, opening the door even further and ushered them inside. “You must be freezing! Please, come inside!”

The farmer quickly ducked in, wasting no time in kicking off their boots and closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry to drop by so late,” they began and removed their jacket. “I just—“

“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked and took their jacket. I hung it and then offered a towel.

They gave me a sheepish smile, nodding and accepting the towel. “Did I wake you?”

I waved them off. “No worries, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Is it okay if… I stay here a while?”

I could tell they were embarrassed to ask, scared even as they avoided my gaze. If not for the cold weather outside, I would think they were hiding heated cheeked. But that may have just been wishful thinking. “Of course!” I replied. “Stay as long as you like—“ I paused, looking over their drenched clothes and uncertain on how to phrase my next words. “Do you… perhaps need a change of clothes?”

The farmer looked down again, chewing their bottom lip and twisting their hands in front of themselves. “I don’t want to be a burden—“

“Nonsense!” I rushed to my dresser, plucking a few of my clothes out to present them. Mostly oversized clothing, things I haven’t worn in ages but I knew would be comfortable and warm. It would definitely be better than what they wore now, anyway. “Let me know if these are okay,” I said and handed the clothes over. “You can change in the bathroom if—“

“Thank you!” The farmer replied and took the offered clothing….

And then began to strip before me.

I gasped and spun around, heat flooding my cheeks from what I’d saw so little of. Soft, supple skin… A few minor scars across their body, no doubt from the farm and the mines… How I wished to turn back around and take them into my arms, to kiss every scar, to lick every curve, to worship and adore their body just as they deserved.

I held myself back, taking a breath and moving to my bed to readjust the blankets and pillows. I wasn’t sure what tonight would bring, I wanted to keep my hopes low but—

“You can turn back around.”

They stood there, my sweater hanging off one shoulder and my old pajama pants hanging low on their waist. “Sorry about that,” the farmer mumbled. “I was actually really cold and started changing without thinking.”

“It’s no problem.” I chuckled and took their wet clothes from them, moving to hang them in my bathroom. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

Once in the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. How could they look so adorable in my clothing….

I slowly hung their clothing, willing down the urge to run back out and pull the farmer into my arms. To compliment them on how cute they looked, to kiss across their exposed skin and slip my hands under the sweater they wore. To lead them into my bed and remove their borrowed clothing piece by piece—

“Fuck,” I whispered and stared down at the shirt I held. I forced myself to hang it up with everything else.

Tonight, the farmer came to me for a place to relax. For a place to hide out the storm. For a place they knew they could trust without a starving writers wandering hands all over their body. Their perfect, gorgeous, sexy, strong body.

I shook my head and stepped out of the bathroom, ready to chat with the farmer about the weather, about the night sky, about everything but my cravings to just touch them. But all of the words fell out of my mouth.

They laid in my bed, under the covers and flipping through one of my books from the library. The light of my lantern dancing across them, their beauty freezing me in place. A fantasy I’ve dreamt of a million times, only now I could do nothing. My breathing unsteady, the palms now sweaty, my throat dry and all words failing me as I let my eyes trail over them.

The farmer noticed me and scooted to the side of my bed, pushing themselves into the wall before patting the empty side. “It’ll be warmer under the covers,” was all they said before they looked back down at the book. A book that only detailed the secret to ‘writing an award willing novel.’ Something I knew they wouldn’t actually be interested in but��

I climbed into the bed and slid under the covers, biting my tongue when my leg brushed against their own. This couldn’t actually be happening, right? There was no storm outside and I was simply in a very deep sleep. If not for the warmth coming from the farmer, I may have actually believed I was dreaming…

The farmer leaned towards me, their head coming to rest on my shoulder, their book now closed and forgotten in their lap. I kept my eyes forward, my hands turning to fists as I let the weight of their head settle upon me. “This is nice,” they whispered and snuggled in a little further, one of their hands going to lap on my arm. “Do you mind?”

“No,” I muttered back, gulping as they shifted even closer, their arm now laying across my chest as they got more comfortable. “I— I don’t mind.”

My body felt like it was being doused in flames, feeling more aware than ever of everything around me. The rain coming back to my mind, softer than before as it fell across the roof, the thunder still rumbling outside but now miles away, the farmers hair as it brushed against my cheek, their arm as it laid over my fast beating heart, their thumb as it caressed my arm.

“I really appreciate you letting me come in tonight…” I could feel their breath across my neck, my body shivering as I let the feeling wash over me.

I took a breath, attempting to form the words. Their legs were on my own now, the farmer pulling me further into the bed and encouraging me to relax and our combined warmth made my eyes grow heavy.

“I’ve dreamt of this so many times,” I said, my voice a whisper as I finally gave me.

The farmer giggled, their laugh light and adorable… and bringing what I’d just said to light. “And? Is it everything you imagined?”

I sighed and wrapped one of my arms around them. “Even better.”

In the morning I would wake with the farmer still in my arms, their nose tucked into my neck and snoring softly. Our first night together that would become one of many.

[hemmingshouse]

espresso / colby brock

summary: when you find out colby has been obsessed with you for a while, you decide to take matters into your own hands. until colby finds it enough and takes charge.

warnings: mentions of sex, making out, ass grabbing, grinding, dominant!reader (sorta)

“thinking bout me, every night oh

is it that sweet? i guess so

say you can’t sleep, baby i know

that’s that me espresso”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it had been a few hours since he saw you last. you hung around his apartment with your shared group of friends, playing a few drinking games whilst filming for different youtube channels. he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head now that the day finally downed on him when he was in bed.

at first he thought it was the liquor running through his bloodstream, or the adrenaline from comtinuously winning games of beer pong with you by his side. to colby, you were the most georgous woman on this planet. the way your hair cascaded down your back, eyes glimmering with happiness and joy as you look back at him.

you looked effortlessly beautiful in one of his old xplr hoodies, the sleeves too long for your arms and the hem ending a few inches below your ass. he hated to admit that he peeked a few times to see if you wore some shorts underneath - fully knowing that that was your usual attire whilst lounging around the house.

and yet, he couldn’t help it. with a hand running through his hair and a sigh falling from his lip, colby finally admitted to himself that he might be a bit obsessed with his best friend. you clouded his mind twenty four seven these past few weeks and he had pushed the tingling sensation he felt when he looked at you to the side. that was until now, where he was feeling vulnerable because of the alcohol he consumed and the way he wanted to see you. now.

he reached for his phone and unlocked the device, checking his messages in the hopes to find you there. he knew you’d probably be asleep by now, in tara’s apartment a few doors down, but he couldn’t help text you either way.

colby: are you awake 

his thumb hovered over the send button, not quite knowing if it was a good time to text you. he usually didn’t wanna come across as needy or desperate, but he couldn’t quite care at this point. the vibration of his phone startled him slightly.

you: everything okay?

he smiled at your concern, turning onto his back so it was easier to text you.

colby: yeah no worries

colby: just can’t sleep tbh

it took a while for you to answer, but when colby heard a faint and nearly non existent knock on his door, he knew why. he didn’t check the peephole before slowly opening his front door, a chuckle falling from his mouth as he took in your appearance. you were wearing cherry pyjama bottoms and a matching fitted t-shirt, hoodie draped across your arm and fuzzy slippers on your feet.

“hi,” you chuckled, stepping inside after colby opened up the door so you could walk in. “any particular reason you can’t sleep?”

he noticed how you walked yourself towards the staircase of his apartment and his heart skipped a beat. he quickly caught up with you as you walked towards his bedroom. “not really,” he mumbled as he crawled back into bed, watching you drape your hoodie across the chair in the corner of the room before kicking off your slippers and sliding into bed as well. after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he spoke up. “how come you never stay at mine anymore?”

you laughed softly, pulling the duvet up a bit more to keep yourself from getting too chilly. “colbs, you were in love with a new woman every single week. i didn’t wanted to be a cockblocker by staying here and sleeping on the couch - or your bed even.”

“okay, i was going overboard a while back,” he admitted as he looked at you, the dimmed light on his night stand illuminating your face, “i’m sorry if i was a shitty friend.”

you laughed, shaking your head, “are you saying sorry for fulfilling your sexual needs? are you sick or something?”

“fuck off, asshole,” colby groaned, softly pinching your cheek. “i’m sorry for the way i neglected our friendship back then. i loved to have you around and today made that even more clear for me.”

a smile formed on your lips, hand reaching out for his to give it a gentle kiss, “you have been forgiven,” you chuckled, “so, no particular reason you’re pouring out your heart at four in the morning?”

colby knew that you’d eventually end up asking him about why he texted you so late, but he never expected to feel like this. you hadn’t been in his bed for a few months and the way your like cotton smelling hair was clouding his vision because you were so close made it hard for him to think straight.

“uh,” he sighed softly, trying to think of a way to make it seem like he wasn’t quite literally obsessed with you. “god,” he laughed breathily, “this is gonna be so weird for you to hear.”

“colbs,” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows, “we’ve been friends for a good few years now, nothing has ever been weird between us.”

“i know, i know,” colby nodded his head as he rubbed his eyes, trying to spare himself some time before he threw out the truth. “i just hate us being friends.”

you furrowed your eyebrows at his statement, confusion clear on your face. colby’s eyes widened when he realised how wrongly that came out, a loud laugh filling the room as you saw the regret he felt. “oh my god,” you chuckled, “for a small second i thought you were being for real and were gonna cut me the fuck out of your life.”

“no! no, not at all,” he smiled softly, “total opposite actually. i uh- i’m- i’m actually seeing you as more than just a friend.”

his voice was low and quiet, filled with fatigue as the clock was nearing four thirty. eyes trained on you, hoping you wouldn’t burst out laughing at his heartfelt confession.

your heart stopped beating for a second when he spoke his truth, your head feeling fuzzy. of course you knew that you both fooled around flirtatiously, always clingy when it came to hugging and cuddling but you never really guessed colby had actual feelings for you - mainly because he was always surrounding himself with other women.

it wasn’t a secret colby was extremely handsome in your eyes. some of your mutual friends would often catch you lurking at him or smiling at him when he talked, a loud laugh coming from you when he made an inappropriate joke. you hadn’t really thought about it before, mainly because you always pressured yourself into pushing those feelings away, but now that it was just the two of you after a long time - you had to admit you felt it too.

“just to make sure,” you spoke up, “this is real? no joke? no prank between you and anyone?”

colby shook his head quietly, reaching one of his hands beneath the covers to search for your hand. he found it quickly, tangling your fingers together before giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “all me, i promise.”

“have you been with all these chicks to make me jealous?” you teased, scooting over a bit closer. the way his nose scrunched up as he tried to keep himself from laughing and giving into you told you enough. “colby!”

“i’m sorry!” he laughed, shooting his hands up in defeat before rolling on his back and turning his head to the side to keep looking at you, “i never thought you’d feel the same so i just- i didn’t know how to handle seeing you with someone that wasn’t me so i tried to get rid off the feelings all together.”

“and here you are,” you jokingly stated, “still severely obsessed with me.”

he rolled his eyes playfully before wetting his lips, this conversation letting his mouth run dry. “so what if i am?”

you didn’t answer him, just spending and counting the seconds until colby turned his head to look at you. his arms were folded behind his head and he had an unreadable look glimmering in his eyes. the comfortable silence caused you to chuckle as you shook your head, letting out a content sigh as you scooted your body closer to colby’s, wrapping an arm around his waist as your head rested on his chest.

the way your body heat radiated onto him caused his mind to go fuzzy. your acrylic nails softly dragged themselves up and down his side, breath hitching in his throat as your lips peppered feathery kisses onto colby’s chest.

“what are you doing?” colby mumbled softly as one of his arms dropped back to his side, pressing into the small of your back.

the tip of your nose dragged along his neck as his body was responding to your actions, fingertips brushing their way upwards to rest underneath your t-shirt. “shh,” you shushed him, “just tryna prove there’s even more to obsess over.”

“oh my- fuck,” colby breathed through his nose as he noticed how you slowly sat up onto your knees, a mischievous hint in your eyes. “is this a fever dream?”

you let out a laugh at colby’s joke, shaking your head as you leaned forward, brushing some unruly hair out of his face before brushing your nose with his. “does it still feel surreal?”

your breathy voice caused his stomach to knot together, hands making their way towards your waist to keep you steady. what he didn’t expect was you pushing the duvet out of the way so it was easier to straddle his lap and casually lean in to graze your lips against his.

colby wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. he had thought about having you more than once and in multiple ways, but he never thought you would be the one to initiate an intimate moment like you had right now.

“it really fucking does,” he mumbled, hands making their way to grab your ass and give it a squeeze, “oh my god.”

knowing that colby openly admitted to being dominant in bed often let your mind wander to your head being clouded with freaky thoughts because all of your friends were fully aware of the fact you weren’t a shy type when it came to taking the lead in the bedroom.

colby’s fingers trailed up your sides again as he slowly sat himself up, trying to keep you steady as your lips finally found each other in a desperate kiss. your small hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss, a small whimper falling from your lips as his thumbs hooked themselves around the waistband of your cherry pyjama pants.

hands trailed down from his jaw to his neck, pressing your body closer to his as you carefully rolled your hips against his. he was quick to push you down, hands firmly spread across your ass. “is that what you want? hm? did you come here to fuck me?”

his words caused your heart to race as his fingers now toyed with the hem of your shirt, rolling it between his thumb and pointer. you pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, “if you don’t take control, someone else has to.”

you knew you’d take the risk of colby getting bratty and feeling excruciatingly dominant with comments like these, but you found it fun to see how far you could take it before he lost his mind. you were quickly aware of how colby switched from wanting to be dominated to being the actual dominant one and you made a mental note that he had to love both.

within a few seconds you found yourself underneath him instead of on top, colby keeping himself steady as his arms kept him up. his voice was low and husky as he spoke, a chill running down your spine.

“do you wanna say that again or are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck that attitude out of you?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

let me know if yall want a part two! ;) mwah x

[reishifts]

HOUSE? — hogwarts scripting guide.

as we‘re all aware there are four different hogwarts houses; in this post i’ll guide you through their traits, weaknesses etc. to help you chose one for your dr ! remember this is based on what i think, not literal facts.

traits ; positive or neutral aspects that describes how sm acts

weaknesses ; areas where a person might struggle

random ; random things that remind me of the houses

songs ; songs that remind me of the houses

GRYFFINDOR.

traits: fearless spirit, passionate, willing to stand up for themselves, adventurous, bold, driven by a strong moral compass, loves challenges, enjoys leadership, doesn’t mind taking risks, loves the idea of protecting others and fighting for themselves, quick to act, often relies on their instincts, brave, strong sense of justice, naturally charismatic, direct

possible weaknesses: acts before thinking, impulsive, can overlook details, recklessness, may struggle to back down in arguments, sometimes overlay idealistic, prone to taking too much to prove themselves

random: campfires. superhero movies. red. lions. espresso. fireworks. rivers. escape rooms. leather jackets. motorcycles. snowball fights. comics.

songs: everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears. die w a smile - bruno mars. right now - one direction. wide awake - katy perry. pride - kendrick.

HUFFLEPUFF.

traits: heart & soul of hogwarts, compassionate, known for their dedication, approaches everything w patience and perseverance, hard worker, fair, patient, loyal, kind, quick to forgive, willing to give second chances, willing to put in effort, stays consistent till they succeed, good listener, harmonious, grounded

possible weaknesses: puts others‘ needs above theirs, tendency to be underestimated, may seem as naive, struggles w setting boundaries, may avoid the spotlight even when they deserve it

random: bakeries. board games. flower field. yellow. gardening. herbology. dogs. honey. pottery. family albums. road trip playlists. popcorn. stickers.

songs: why i love u - jayz. me myself n i - bebe rexha. wildflower - billie eilish. again - noah cyrus. my blood - ellie goulding.

SLYTHERIN.

traits: stragetic, values success, has clear sense of their goals and how to achieve them, resilient, adaptable, resourceful, doesn‘t shy away from things they want, self-motivated, strong sense of determination, can thrive under pressure, can read people like books, smart

possible weaknesses: selfish, competitive, trust issues, prefers to work alone, secretive, vulnerable, doesn’t ask for help, jealous

random: chess. black cars. green. goth. statues. wine. chocolate. secret diaries. crowns. luxury hotels. rare gemstones. spy novels.

songs: give me everything - pitbull. supermassive black hole - muse. jealousy - tnbh. ultraviolence - ldr. chihiro - billie eilish. heartbeat - cg.

RAVENCLAW.

traits: intelligent, creative, wise, curious, loves exploring, good analyst, can easily solve problems, values personal space, enjoys intellectual pursuits, open minded, observant, often philosophical, quality over quantity, amazing memory, drawn to abstract thinking

possible weaknesses: may seem aloof or emotionally distant, self-critical, burnouts, overly perfectionist, socially withdrawn, too introspective

random: library. ink. blue. night sky. music notes. art. operas. documentaries. fashion shows. poetry. birds. podcasts. mascara. tea.

songs: wicked game - chris isaak. art deco - ldr. glory box - portishead. softcore - tnbh. mind games - sickick. chihiro - billie eilish.

[periprose]

Ps5 Peter Parker x reader inspired by this?

It's one of my favorite MerDer moments on Grey's anatomy 🙈😭

Peter explains something about physics or an idea for a gagdet...

🤣 this image really cracked me up lol thanks for the ask!! I've set the fic to take place in the first game, Peter and Reader are Otto's assistants at Octavius Industries. Please ignore the science mumbo jumbo in this fic.

/

Otto's lab was really cold this time of year. He barely had the funds to make rent in Manhattan, let alone provide optimal heating and other luxuries.

Still, you shiver, searching through your locker for your comfy, oversized jumper. You're just pulling it on when Peter pops up from behind you.

"Hey."

"Jesus!" You flinch and then rub your eyes. "Hey, Peter. How do you get behind me so fast? That's the third time this month I didn't even see you come in."

"Uh... I just have good reflexes, I think." Peter's mouth twists a little, as he tries not to laugh at your jumper. "Are you sure that's up to lab standards? Where's your lab coat?"

"Ah, Otto doesn't mind. He knows I'm cold." You explain, and Peter sighs.

"Well, he never gives me special treatment."

"Probably because you're not as cute as I am." You joke, but Peter nods and you feel a callous level of attraction towards him for being so nonchalant in terms of flirting.

You never really know where you stand with the guy. He's a naturally witty person and you refuse to read into anything any deeper, just for self preservation.

"Hey, I can't disagree with that." Peter laughs that quiet, soft laugh that makes you smile on your own. "Here, I got you a cup of coffee. That should help warm you up."

You look down and see, sure enough, Peter's holding a coffee cup tray, loaded with three cups, surely your usual orders- for you, extra black espresso to stay awake, for Peter, usually some kind of healthy tea hybrid, and for Otto, a large, creamy Italian coffee blend that's particularly expensive (Peter always jokes that Otto wastes funding on things like this).

"Oh, I'll pay you back." You reach back into your locker for your wallet, but Peter stops you with a raise of his hand.

"It's free of charge. No worries." He hands you the cup gently, and your hand skirts across his. You think for a moment.

"Nothing is ever really 'free of charge', Peter." You give him a side glance. In the last couple of months you've known this guy, you've figured out when he has an ulterior motive.

"... Alright, alright. You got me." Peter starts pulling you along by the hand, towards one of Otto's offices filled with white-boards and desks and equipment. You take a sip of your coffee and notice that it's still quite hot- Peter must've been really fast to make it so.

Not that you're complaining, and now that you're warmer you do feel more inclined to listen to him.

"Okay. You know how Otto's neural interface for the experimental arms have been glitching out?" Peter's got a firm look on his face, as you sit and listen.

"Yeah. It's a poor prototype, I think he asked us to leave it alone? He said he'd deal with it." You shrug. "I've moved on to his requests for a tighter, stronger arm. You know I deal with hardware."

"Yes, but even so, the neural interface problem still persists. Otto's lying." Peter looks at the whiteboard, and sees that half of it is covered all over with erratically drawn diagrams and equations. It's fine, he knows he can write what he needs in that space.

"Okay, look." Peter begins drawing a diagram of the neural interface's circuitry. "See how the voltage is really high?"

"Yeah- but isn't that what Doc wanted?" You grimace. "Last time I brought up the voltage issue, he told me to mind my business and continue with soldering. He wants so much power for some reason."

"Right, that's what I'm talking about. Notice how Otto keeps having those outbursts?" Peter sighs, a deeply upsetting look overtaking him. "He's getting a bit aggressive as of late, and I think it's because he can't figure this out."

"You're telling me. Just yesterday he chewed me out for clocking in a bit late." You sniff. "Okay, I was fifteen minutes late, but still."

"I've been there, you don't even have to justify it." Peter laughs, and begins drawing squiggly lines. You can't help but notice how his strangely muscular arms are tense and visible through his lab coat as he scrawls, and you take a sip of your coffee, savoring the view. Looking isn't illegal, you try to rationalize, but you quickly banish these thoughts as Peter looks back with a sly glance, to make sure you're paying attention.

"This is the electricity flow... and it should be heading this way, but the neural interface is made incorrectly and the flow of energy is heading back this way... towards the-"

"The battery of the arms, not the interface." You suddenly realize, and take a scrap piece of paper off the desk, scribbling down notes. "Hmm... maybe the wiring used for the arms is absorbing too much energy? Or the batteries are too big?"

"Maybe, but neural interfaces are tricky business." Peter winces as Otto yells at something in the background of the lab. "I told Otto not to get too involved with it- it's far too easy to accidentally mess with your brain, and then suddenly you've got anger issues or worse-"

"Dementia." You finish his sentence with an equally grim expression. "Okay. I hear you, but how are we supposed to fix it, exactly? I can only think of using different, smaller wires, or a less cost heavy battery- but then it won't move at the speed Otto wants it to."

"Yeah." Peter's shoulders slump a little, and you feel bad. He's always just one dude trying to take on the entire world's problems.

"Peter, it's not your problem, really. You can only do so much- the man has made up his mind, he's going to have to take the brunt of the problem." You try to console him, but Peter has that determined Parker Pride you've seen far too often, and you know he's not going to let it go.

"Wait, wait. Okay..." Peter starts frantically drawing on the board, and seeing that he's running out of space, without missing a beat, begins to draw on the wall.

"Peter! You're drawing on the wall!" You admonish him, and to your shock and utter horror, but not to your surprise, he keeps going. "Now you've completely lost it- it'll take two seconds to erase the board-"

But Peter isn't listening, in that overly stubborn, inventor way that you know you've done before. He's too lost in his own thoughts, and you know that spark will disappear if he takes a moment to stop drawing.

"I'll clean it. It's fine. We got to get a move on." Peter points to the new diagram on the wall. "Look at this."

Peter's drawn a rudimentary depiction of the robotic arm prototypes you've built for Otto, but the battery pack has been split up into several, smaller batteries that extend over the course of the arms. Something about the way the arms move in Peter's drawings look a lot more... smooth, silky, like a cephalopod.

An octopus.

But you are amazed at Peter's capabilities, either way. "Using multiple different batteries, so the energy isn't drawn away from the neural interface in a great capacity?" You blink, a bit amused at Peter's eager expression. "It would work, I think, but only if Otto is willing for a slight decrease in power."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. We don't need to sacrifice power at all." Peter draws a set of gears, interlocking through the squiddy looking arm, and you clap your hands, clambering up out of your seat, finally enthused by his idea.

"Peter Parker, you genius!" You shake his arm excitedly, and he turns a bit pinker as he watches you, grinning. "Otto wanted the arm to be almost entirely synthetic material- but if it has rotating gears, the less it will jerk around. It'll be faster, smoother-"

"Thus requiring less power anyways, and less power will be redirected into his neural interface. And, hypothetically, no more angry Otto." Peter grins, and you smile up at him. "I mean, it'll still take some tinkering to figure out, but incremental improvements are still improvements, right?"

"Definitely. Plus we can always try to convince him about solar power again." You joke as Peter snickers.

Peter opens his mouth, about to say something to you, but he stares for a moment too long and hesitates, especially because in the nerdy excitement, he had gotten so close to you, and he was a liar if he said he had never checked out his cute co-worker. Any second now, you should be teasing as you usually do- but your eyes are wide and Peter gets the sense you've been swept up in this too.

He's never been so... close. He can make out individual eyelashes, tiny scars, imperceptible to normal people, but not to him.

And his phone buzzes with some kind of alert. He looks it over with bright, concerned eyes, while you take a moment to step back, much to Peter's mild irritation.

"Ah... must be MJ?" You ask, trying so very hard not to sound like a jealous girlfriend, just a curious colleague. You have nothing against MJ- you just feel that she and Peter are so meant for each other, and this is exactly why you've been trying to protect yourself.

Who are you kidding? You and Peter are both so busy- you'd never have time to be his doting, adoring girlfriend. You just have to remember him as a friend.

Already you feel the walls coming into place, your expression turning neutral, your heart becoming steely, when Peter looks at you again, surprised.

He can tell you're holding yourself back- and he doesn't like that. He wants you to come back to him, to be close with him again, and it drives him nuts that it has to be your choice, but he respects that.

"Not MJ. We broke up a while ago." Peter swallows, hoping he's saying the right things. "Uh... I don't think we're going to get back together. She's dating someone else now."

"Oh." You squeeze Peter's shoulder as comfortingly as you can. "Peter, I'm sorry. I would've been less of an ass if I'd known."

"No, don't be." Peter fixes a firm, kindhearted glance at you, taking your hands, the warmth of his own making you feel especially treasured. "You're great."

There's a teeny bit of hope working it's way into you, into your silly, girly heart despite all the steel around it, and Peter has a soft smile reserved just for you- you know that smile, you've seen it before when he comforts you when an experiment goes poorly, or when you've had a Eureka moment.

He rubs your hands. "Jeez, you're cold! I know women are usually freezing in the workplace- different body temperatures on average and all that- but I'm going to have to talk to Otto about making it warmer in here."

"Lest I die of hypothermia, right." You snort, and Peter snickers, but he still stays close, as if he's using this as an excuse. "Well, at least I have your hands."

Peter's phone buzzes again, another alert, which he apologetically takes a moment to read after letting go of you. Something about Fisk's thugs making their way through Grand Central Station- he shouldn't leave right now, but he can see your curiosity is piqued.

"Just a news alert. Nothing big." Peter lies, and you don't quite buy it, but you don't want to pry at this moment after he's complimented you and been so nice to warm up your hands.

Otto bursts through the entrance of the room, sighing.

"Will you two lovebirds stop canoodling with each other and test out the circuitry? You know, like I'm paying you to do so with very limited funds?" He barks, and then inhales. "Sorry. Just... try to stay on task. And I know you're young and all... but stop drawing on the walls!"

He leaves, grumbling about youth being too romantic and wishing they would understand sensibility.

You're about to refute whatever Otto said, so Peter doesn't feel uncomfortable, when he speaks first.

"I take it he isn't a romantic." Peter jokes as he grabs some paper towels, and you laugh, feeling that Peter's flirting was more genuine than you thought.

[thehivemindsys]

William Birkin Headcanons (Work Related)

I'm kinda bored and I wanted to post a few more headcanons before I started winding down for the night, so here, have some William Birkin behaviors, from when he's working late nights.

If Wesker is the clean, orderly type, then William is certainly the type to make a mess of his office. Though it's certainly not extreme, it is what the average person would call disastrously messy. Yet, there is still a level of organization to it. Everything has a place, just not in a way that is logically acceptable. Wesker has no idea how his lab partner can even work in such an environment, and sometimes attempts to clean it up for him-which annoys William almost just as much.

William is a caffeine addict. During the development of the G-Virus, he was under such a time crunch that the absolute best way for him to meet deadlines was for him to stay awake for as long as humanly possible. When espresso didn't work, then William would certainly resort to using stimulant drugs. Again, this annoyed Wesker to no end, who was concerned for his partner's health and would take the drugs from him if he suspected he was using.

William doodles in the margins of his notes. He is by no means a good artist, but if he needs to refocus himself, he'll draw a stick figure or two in a blank area. It helps him calm his paranoia, and could likely be considered a stim.

William has a terrible case of "doctor's handwriting." His handwriting is in a manuscript that you probably couldn't read unless you were very used to cursive, and his signature is a scrawl. Sherry's teachers have called before him because his writing is so illegible on signed permission slips that they wonder if it's even his.

William would rather die than do the dishes. Sometimes beakers and dissection plates are used as dishware if he gets desperate enough. Of course, they are meticulously cleaned before they are eaten off of, but his reckless nature worries practically everyone around him, especially during the development of the G-Virus.

William is somewhat passive aggressive towards interns and can be outright mean to them at times. He sees practically everyone-outside of Wesker-as possible competition due to his intense paranoia, to the point where he refuses to share certain things with people he doesn't trust, like formulas, notes, and other vital information. This has led to a lot of mistrust between him and his co-workers, which William has only worsened over time.

[toomuchracket]

happiness

my first fic for everyone's parasocial husband ross! that beautiful man RADIATES comfort and domesticity, and frankly it's a crime that there are like no fics of him as a dad on here, so that's what this is: ross and his wifey enjoying a chill day at home with their month-old daughter (featuring excited best friend matty, because it's funny and you're all rabid matty stans (mood, tbf)). also, spoiler alert for the season 2 finale of New Girl? enjoy!

stifling a yawn with your hoodie-covered fist, you pad into the kitchen of your house, the chill of the tiled floor noticeable even through your socks. ross, clad in a hoodie much like your (well, his) own, is fiddling about with the espresso machine you guys got as a wedding present from adam and carly. sunshine streams through the window and glints off the ring on his left hand, which makes your cheeks lift into a smile.

coming up behind your husband, you wrap your arms as best you can around his muscular torso, pressing your forehead to his back and inhaling his scent, a heady mix of sandalwood aftershave and laundry detergent from the hoodie. without turning around, ross takes your left hand in his and kisses it softly just below your wedding ring, then speaks. "she settled down ok, i take it?"

"went out like a light," you reply. "she is your daughter, after all."

ross chuckles, still busying himself with the coffee contraption. "not like her mother, fighting to stay awake despite exhaustion," he mocks, turning in your hold to look at you pointedly, although there's a playful sparkle in his dark eyes. ross passes you a steaming espresso cup - comically tiny in his massive hands - and plants another soft kiss on your forehead. "thought you might need that, my love."

you murmur a thank you and tip the contents of the cup into your mouth, wincing at the overwhelming initial combination of heat and bitterness. it softens into something pleasant as it travels down your throat, though, and you shiver as you feel the caffeine take effect.

ross, ever-attentive to your every move, places his hands on your waist, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. "you ok?"

"mhmm."

ross doesn't seem convinced. "you look exhausted, love. do you want another coffee? or a nap?"

you smirk as you place the empty cup onto the counter, bringing your hands up to rest on your husband's broad chest. "trying to get me into bed, mr macdonald?"

"always, mrs macdonald," ross quips back, his face softening and his grip on your waist relaxing. he leans down, you rise up on tiptoe, and your lips meet somewhere in the middle. despite the back-and-forth innuendo, there's no desire behind the kiss - well, none more than usual, when your husband looks as good as he does. it's tender, soft, romantic; just dreamy, really.

you open your eyes slowly as ross pulls his lips away from yours and trails them gently down towards your neck, smiling as his facial hair tickles your bare skin. he presses a soft kiss under your chin, then whispers in your ear. "d'you think we'll have time to watch an episode of new girl before bean wakes up?"

"god, domestic life really has changed you," you tease, stroking your husband's head as he nuzzles into you. "you used to sneak me away for quickies when we had any free time, and now you just want to watch sitcoms."

"it's your fault, bloody putting it on for a rewatch and getting me hooked," ross laughs. he begins pressing kisses into your neck; softly at first, then slightly more passionate, which makes your head spin a little. "but i'm more than happy to go back to the quickies as soon as we've been given the go-ahead to do so. always wanted to shag a milf, actually."

"easy, tiger," you giggle, pulling ross up to plant a quick kiss on his lips before leading him to the living room. "come on, let's see what jess and nick are up to today."

the two of you settle in your usual position on the couch; you perched sideways on ross' lap, his head resting on your chest, a soft tartan blanket covering you both. you control the remote, letting out a quiet whoop when you see that elaine's big day is today's episode. "oh, this is a good one!"

"you've said that about every episode so far."

"i know, but... shut up, and just watch."

ross chuckles, but does as he's told. you half-watch the episode (admittedly, you've seen it four times already) and half-watch him, smiling at his reactions; his quiet "aww" when schmidt sees cece in her wedding outfit, his cringes at nick and winston's antics, and - your favourite - his shocked gasp when elaine finally appears onscreen. "taylor swift?!"

his handsome face is so incredulous that you can't help but laugh. "told you it was a good episode."

"i can't believe they just revealed taylor swift like that," ross mutters, in obvious shock. his eyes widen, and he turns to face you. "wait, is this how the fans felt when we brought her out onstage at the o2 that time?"

you smile, opening your mouth to answer affirmatively; before you can, though, faint cries start to come through the baby monitor on the coffee table. clicking off the tv and throwing the blanket to one side, you and ross peel yourselves off the couch to stand. "well, we might not have made it through the whole episode" you begin, stretching slightly. "but at least bean had the good grace to wait until we'd seen taylor before she woke up and wanted attention."

ross laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the stairs. "prioritising taylor swift over her own needs? she's more like you than we thought."

you hit him gently on the arm. your daughter's cries increase in volume as you near her nursery, and even though you know she's alright the sound makes your heart ache. "it's alright, princess, we're coming!"

the two of you enter the sage-painted room and make a beeline for the crib, where your tiny girl whines and wriggles in discomfort. she stops crying as soon as ross gently lifts her up, cooing softly at her. "don't worry, bean, daddy's got you."

you caress the shock of dark hair on her little head, clearly inherited from her father; the big eyes she gazes at you sweetly with, though, are all yours. "do you need changing, princess? i think you do," you say, looking up at your husband. "do you want me to-"

"i've got her, love," ross replies, kissing your head as he carries the baby to her changing station. "will you grab me another outfit for her, though?"

"sure," you say, heading to the faded white wardrobe in the corner of the room as ross cleans up and babbles to your daughter ("for someone so tiny, you're quite good at being so stinky... but you're sooooo cute, you're just like mummy, she's cute too"), which makes your heart swell with love. you rifle through the - honestly excessive - collection of baby clothes hanging up neatly, until a black onesie with a familiar white decal on the front makes you stop in your tracks. perfect.

as you head back over to ross and the baby, anticipation of showing them your outfit pick growing with every step, the doorbell rings. ross and you lock eyes, confused; you hand him the onesie, without looking to see his reaction, and hurry downstairs to answer the door. nearing it, you can see a familiar mess of dark curls through the glass panes, which comes into focus as you open the door.

across the threshold, laden with a mixture of gift and shopping bags, stands an extremely tanned and beaming matty. "surprise!" he cries, ever the drama queen. "there she is, my new favourite milf!"

"eww, freak," you faux-grumble, pulling him as best you can into a hug while avoiding being bashed by his bags. "come in. how was louis' wedding?"

"well, you know my brother. it was full-on, but good," replies matty, following you into the hallway and putting his stuff down on the ground. "would've been better if someone hadn't stolen the limelight by going into labour the day of the rehearsal dinner, though. it was all anyone could talk about - everyone got off their flights into milan and immediately went 'did you hear baby macdonald's on the way?'. you couldn't have kept your legs shut for a few more days?"

you glare at matty for a few seconds, then the two of you break into snorts of laughter. aside from your literal husband, matty is the person in the band you're closest to; the two of you are best friends, a double act built on awful senses of humour and dubiously-fake pretentiousness, and he's the only person in the world who loves ross almost as much as you do.

when you stop laughing, matty places both hands on your shoulders and looks at you from arm's length-away. "nah, for real, you look well. i'm glad," he says, smiling earnestly at you and hugging you properly. he then claps his hands together once, a signifier of a change in conversation topic. "now - where's my best friend, and where's this new baba i've heard so much about?"

"in her room," you say as you nod towards the staircase. you begin to climb up, matty hot on your heels. his obvious excitement is quite touching, but you can't resist throwing a dig at him whenever possible. "and she has a name, you know."

"a flipping indecipherable one" your friend mutters under his breath.

you whip around when you reach the first landing, glaring at him seriously this time. "don't you fucking start, healy."

matty raises his hands in defensive apology. "christ, sorry! i just don't know how to pronounce some scottish names. is it like eye- oh."

you've reached the baby's room, where ross stands in the doorway with your daughter in his arms. she looks so small against him, one tiny hand reaching up in an attempt to play with the cord of his hoodie. your husband grins at matty - standing statue-still with an awestruck expression - and speaks softly. "matthew, this is eilidh."

you both watch your friend watch your daughter, his mouth moving soundlessly as he inputs the pronunciation of her name into his brain. ay-ly. matty's eyes, which appear to be welling up, flick up to ross', and he sniffles through a grin. "god, rass, you're such a dilf."

"agreed," you pipe up, smirking at your husband.

ross shifts the still-awake eilidh so she's tucked safely into the curve of one arm and laughs, minding his volume so as to not freak her out. with the other, he reaches for his best friend; they each wrap an arm around the other's shoulders, as they must have done a million times in their lives. "so, what d'you think of your new goddaughter?"

for the second time in less than five minutes, matty freezes. his jaw drops, and he looks between ross' face and yours in utter shock. "for real? i'm her godfather?" you nod, smiling, and matty's eyes start to well up again. he leans over to look at eilidh, who placidly returns his gaze, and the tears begin to fall. "she's so- oh my god, she's wearing self-titled merch!"

matty crouches to the floor and covers his face, fully sobbing. ross quirks his lip at you in confusion, then pats matty's head gently with his free hand. "i know, mate, her outfit did me in too."

"she's just so little," comes the reply from the floor, voice wracked with sobs. matty drags himself up to standing, wiping his eyes. "christ, i can't cope."

for some inane reason, your maternal instinct seems to kick in at the sight of him. you walk over to your friend and wrap your arms around him comfortingly; matty rests his head on your shoulder, his chest still heaving sporadically as he continues to cry. "what's all this about, mate?" you say softly, in a tone not dissimilar to the one you use to address your month-old daughter. "i thought you hated kids?"

"i do, mostly," matty replies, voice muffled by your (ross') hoodie. he begins crying harder again. "but she's half of two of my favourite people in the world, so she's perfect, and she's just so tiny!"

you're not sure if it's the postnatal hormones coursing through you, or if it's pride in getting matthew healy to be serious and emotional for once, but you feel your bottom lip tremble the way it does before you start to cry. ross, too, is welling up as he wraps his free arm around matty; soon, the only person in the room not crying is eilidh, who stares at you all in what appears to be judgement. matty is the first to notice her expression, a laugh lifting his tear-stricken cheeks. "wow, kid, you really do look like your mum."

you smack matty lightly on the back of the head, moving to stand next to your husband and daughter. you lift eilidh out of ross' arms, holding her up so your faces are level; she beams toothlessly at you, chubby hands reaching for your cheeks, earning a short refrain of "awws" from your audience. after kissing her on the forehead briefly, you turn her so she's between you and ross, all three members of your little family facing matty. "right, we need you to settle an argument."

matty's brow furrows. "oh?"

ross rolls his eyes. "jesus, not this again."

you ignore your husband's input and continue talking. "yeah. whose nose has she inherited, mine or his? we can't tell."

"hmmmm," matty ponders. he steps closer to the three of you, scrutinising ross first, then you, then stops in front of eilidh, directly addressing her. "i don't know whose nose you got either, darlin', but on you it is very, very cute."

he punctuates the end of his sentence with a tentative boop to your daughter's tiny nose, which makes her gurgle happily. matty giggles, and you turn to look lovingly at ross, who reciprocates your expression as he helps you hold eilidh.

matty steps back again, surveying the scene before him adoringly; his two best friends and the baby they made together, the love in the room palpable in the air. "i love you guys. this just feels... right. like this is how life was always supposed to be for you."

you're inclined to agree.

[ellies-star]

feels good. part 1

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader. 

an. lol attempting to write a lil dealer!ellie fic. aLsO there is no smut in this part sorryyy

synopsis. dina convinces ellie to go to Jesse's frat party, and somehow finds herself smoking with a girl in the back of her truck. (this is purely reader and ellie getting high and then fucking). warnings. 18+. mentions of drugs (nicotine and weed) and alcohol, ellie and reader smoke together, making out, sexual tension and suggestions?

Ellie had been planning out her Friday night all day. She had spent the entire week studying her ass off for exams, working at the coffee shop after classes and managing her side hustle; she was ready for a break. She fumbled with her keys for a moment before bursting through the front door of her shared apartment with a loud sigh of relief.

Her back slumped due to the excessive amount of biology textbooks weighing down her backpack. After finally shrugging it off her shoulders to her wooden floors, she crashed onto the couch with a groan. Her feet ached from standing on them all afternoon, making coffee for buzzing students– who definitely did not need that extra shot of espresso. She kicked off her black converse, sending them flying in different directions, finally settling her feet onto the coffee table in front of her. She sank into the plush cream couch pillows, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh. “Honey I’m home!” She announced to her roommate blow drying her damp hair, and blasting Elephant by Tame Impala in the bathroom.

Dina swung open the door and revealed her dark locks blowing wildly from the dryer. Ellie could barely hear her over the loud sound of blasting air, but she managed to get a “welcome home dearest!” She thought she heard Dina say something else after retreating back to the bathroom, but the words were drowned out by the noise. Ellie shrugged it off, finally getting the chance to close her eyes. However, the moment of peace did not last long.

“Ellie! What are you doing? You can’t sleep!” Dina jumps onto the end of the couch, shaking Ellie’s legs awake. Ellie’s eyebrows furrow and she groans in response. For fucks sake, she thinks to herself.

“Why, so loud! The hell are you talking about, it’s nap time.” Ellie mumbles curling into a ball. Rolling her eyes, Dina lays her chin and arms on Ellie’s hips.

“Ellie we have to leave for Jesse’s party in like an hour, did you forget?” Ellie stays silent for a moment, humming while searching for the lost memory of when she agreed to this shindig. Then she grumbles, cursing her past self for getting into this predicament.

“Shit, yeah I did forget…” Ellie runs a hand down her face. “I don’t know D, I’m fucking exhausted.” Turning around and lifting her chin up to Dina who has moved to retrieve a hairbrush. “I had class from 9 to 3:45, and worked at Java till–” she looks at her watch– “20 minutes ago.” She throws her head back down to the seat cushions.

“I– yeah that’s a lot… I know this week has been brutal for you.” Dina pauses, “You don’t have to go, I just know Jesse was looking forward to seeing us both.” Dina looks down at her brush picking out the hair while leaning against the door frame.

Ellie scoffs at this. “You know I love Jesse, but he just wants me to go and be his plug for the night.” She begins to sit up, leaning her forearms onto her knees.

Dina shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, “Mmm, yes he did want you to sell at this party, but he also wanted to hangout! Y’know we’re his only friends outside of the frat.” Turning back around to the bathroom to start applying makeup. “Okay, how about this!” She bops her head back out, “It’s 8:30, you can take a nap and I’ll wake you up in 30 minutes. See how you’re feeling, then decide– Deal?”

Ellie ponders the offer, she does believe in the power of, well, a power nap. And a redbull.

“Deal.”

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Ellie pulls up the road to the infamous house of Sigma Omicron Pi (ΣΟΠ). Different colored lights flooded from every window, a sea of drunk UCSC students painted the massive front lawn. The bass of Knock Knock by Mac Miller pouring out of the house’s speakers. She pulls her 1997 Land Cruiser into park a few feet away from the mess. The homes in the neighborhood were separated by at least 50 ft— making the perfect spot for a frat house.

She takes a swig of her half finished red bull, before turning off the engine. Looking to the passenger seat, she watches Dina apply more blush, concealer and whatever that last sparkly thing in a tube was. “D, you look fine. I don’t know why you bother.”

Dina rolls her eyes in response jokingly. “Not everyone can be a chapstick lesbian with perfect skin and lashes like you, Els.”

Ellie scoffs, “Shut up, you look good without makeup. That’s why I don’t think you need it.” She gets out of the car to grab a few dime bags and pre-rolls to shove into her black herschel shoulder bag.

Dina finishes applying some lip gloss and closing the visor mirror. “Yeah I know, but sexy eyeliner and glitter makes me feel good.” She flashes Ellie a grin and wink before opening the car door. “Now let’s go! We’re late, and I’m too sober for this shit!”

Ellie barks a laugh while locking up her car, before following her towards the massive house.

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The two were greeted by red solo cups littering the grass, creating a trail to the porch. They walked past a group of frat boys in the middle of an intense game of pong. Opening the green wooden door, the sheer volume of the music blasted Ellie in the face. The loud sounds shook her chest, the deep bass sending a vibration through her ears down to her ribcage. She could barely hear Dina say to keep an out for Jesse, even though they were only inches apart. The hallway leading to the living room was filled with more people, the two girls having to squeeze past them in zigzags.

Eventually they made it to the massive living room, a dance party occurring in the middle of the floor. There had to be around 50 people in this room alone. It was either sweaty bodies grinding against one another, the excessive amount of liquor in the jungle juice causing them to move loosely, or it was a group of people laughing and shoving one another into the dance circle.

Whatever it was, Ellie didn’t want any part of it. She continued to follow Dina into the kitchen— where they finally spotted Jesse.

She watched as Dina ran up to him, ending whatever conversation he was in the middle of. She kissed him in a rush, then pulled away leaving him beaming.

“Baby, you made it! I was wondering where you were.” Jesse smiles, while holding her close.

“Sorry, I know I know. Ellie needed an extra 15 minutes for her power nap.” Dina giggles, nodding her head in my direction.

He looks up to find Ellie leaning against the counter. “It’s good to see you Els, glad you could make it.” He steps away from Dina to pull Ellie into a hug.

“Yeah man, wouldn’t miss it.” She chuckles, letting go of his hand to adjust the strap of her bag. He eyes her movements, then remembers why he invited her.

“Did you uh, did you bring anything to sell by chance?” He dips his chin low and brings his face closer for Ellie to hear better over the loud music and conversations.

She nods, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. “Got a few dime bags and pre-rolls in here, got extra in the car too if ya need ‘em.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Sweet, there’s a group outside in the back and then in a room upstairs that were looking to buy. Sure you won’t run out any time soon.” He gives her another nod while slinging an arm around Dina. “Anyway, I was about to grab another drink— shall we?” He motions towards the open back door.

“Let’s go! I need a seltzer, asap.” Dina squeals while walking through the crowd of people.

The fresh air felt good against Ellie’s face. Even though they hadn’t been inside the house long, it set her body into a heat wave underneath her hoodie and black jeans. Jesse had grabbed Dina and him a new drink, then led Ellie to a group of people smoking cigarettes and sitting along the white fence.

“Yo Jesse, what’s good!” One of the boys leans off the ledge to greet him.

“Hey Josh, this is Ellie. She’s selling right now, if you’re still looking to buy.”

Josh looks over at Ellie with a goofy grin. He takes a drag before handing it to a girl on his left. “Yeah man! What’chu got?” His breath was hot, filled with the scent of tobacco and Mezcal.

“Wedding Cake and Blue dream in dime bags, and a few hybrid pre-rolls.” Ellie removes her hands from her pockets to open her crossbody bag. She lets the group look at a few samples.

“Shit, that sounds great. How much for the Wedding Cake and a joint?” The boy asks, while analyzing the work of her pre-rolls.

“Bags $15 and joints $5.”

“Sold.”

And just like that, Ellie went throughout the first two hours dealing left and right. Somehow, she found herself a cigarette and two beers in, with only a joint left in her bag. She had lost Dina and Jesse to the backyard after a game of rage cage at some point. Party games weren’t really her thing, she typically likes to be a fly on the wall— find a space to chill and smoke for a little bit, before Dina was ready to go home.

Which is exactly what Ellie planned to do.

The inside of the house was too loud, and the backyard was packed— as a frat party should be. Ellie didn’t know anyone else besides Dina and Jesse here, and she wasn’t really in the mood to mingle. As her Red Bull began to wear off, she remembered the front porch. She recalled it had a swing, and by this point most people had fled to the inside where there was dancing and more alcohol.

She opened the front door, the cool night air greeting her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in, the smell of mixed smoke and cedar filled her nose. And when she exhaled, the door closed, and the obnoxious noise of house music faded— just a little.

However, her moment of peace was startled by the squeak of the porch swing. She jumped and stumbled slightly as she looked to her left; there sat a girl she hadn’t seen before— and Ellie would’ve remembered if she saw her, because she was stunning.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

You bore a cider in hand, leaning back into the wooden swing with a puzzled look on your face.

Shit… she’s pretty, Ellie thought to herself.

Your hair poured over your bare shoulders, keeping you warm from the brisk air. You sat crossed legged, in worn-out denim jeans and a loose olive green tank top.

Ellie’s hazy eyes trailed the goosebumps that arose on your tanned arms, all the way to your chest. You were braless, hard nipples poking through the thin cotton of your tank top.

“Anyone ever tell you that staring is rude?” You spoke. Self consciously you drew your knees up to your chest and took another swig from your cider.

Ellie lifted her gaze immediately and locked eyes with you, her cheeks burned crimson from embarrassment. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts, “Sorry, didn’t realize someone was already out here, uh I’ll just–” Ellie mumbled the last bit of her words, ready to turn on her heels and kick herself once she was back inside for the obvious ogling. You just chuckled in response.

“I’m messing with you– sort of. What’s your name?” A playful smile began to appear on your lips, they were the color of rose. Ellie made a mental note of how soft they looked pressed against the lip of your bottle. All Ellie could think was how she wishes they were pressed against–

“It’s uh… Ellie! It’s Ellie…” Jesus fucking christ did I seriously almost forget my own name?

You couldn’t help but giggle at her nervousness. “Well, uh Ellie, I’m Y/N. Wanna join me?” You patted the spot next to you on the wooden swing, and Ellie’s heart fluttered.

“Sure.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, despite the the intense pounding in her chest and twisted feeling in her stomach.

You shifted slightly in attempt to make more room for the blushing girl. She plopped softly onto the bench next to you, trying to make herself small. She still managed to brush your arm with her own. The short contact made you shiver.

“So, what brings you here? To the party I mean— pretty obvious you came outside to escape the mess in there.” You took another swig.

You watched as she turned her head away from you, and then it was your turn to stare. Ellie looked forward, showing off her delicate side profile, but strong jawline. Her lashes were long, and freckles painted her cheeks and nose like a map. You could see the gears turning in her head, she was debating something before looking back at you. You were mesmerized, her green eyes were the color of sunlight filtering through trees.

“I know Jesse, he’s a guy from the frat—” Ellie paused to swing her bag into her lap to pull out a plastic one, “—he asked me to deal for the party.” She unzipped the baggy and fished for the preroll. “You smoke?” A small smile appeared on her lips when you nodded your head ‘yes’.

“ah gotcha, plug for the evening. were you just selling joints?”

“Nope, dime bags too. Everything went pretty quick thankfully.” She patted her pockets looking for something. “Shit I forgot my lighter in the car.” She began to stand up when she noticed you shiver again as a breeze came through. “we could uh, smoke this in my car if you want? I have blankets in there too.” She rubbed the back of her neck, afraid that was too forward after you spoke for literally less than 2 minutes.

but it wasn’t too forward, in fact, you’d rather get as far away from this house as possible and be with this random girl you just met with short brown hair and a goofy grin.

“That sounds good to me, it’s cold as hell out here.” You couldn’t help but smile at one another.

“Sweet, I’m just down the road.” Ellie readjusts her bag and pops the joint behind her ear, watching you down the last bit of your cider.

You finally leave the trash covered lawn and spot a large car in the distance. “What kind of car you drive?” You ask crossing your arms to bite the cold.

Ellie chuckles. “It’s a land cruiser, I don’t know if you know it— they’re not the coolest car.”

“What? Of course I know it! That used to be my dream car next to a 4Runner!” You beam, getting more excited the closer you approach the green SUV.

“Seriously? Can’t believe I met the only girl at this party who knows about these things.” At this point, Ellie’s stomach is doing flips and you were the ring master.

You whistle when you pull up, impressed by the state of the car, despite it being an old model. “You must take good care of it, she looks good. what is it— 95’?”

Ellie blinks at you in aw while unlocking the car— “97’.” Did she just win the lottery?

“Hot.” You smirk while getting into the passenger seat. Even though it was joke, it made Ellie’s legs buckle.

You slide onto the soft leather of the seat. Looking around, you know this girl is a lesbian. The console had been replaced by something more modern, and when Ellie turned the car on, it hummed to life making it softly fade into interchanging rainbow colors. In addition to the gay radio, a tash sultana cd laid in the cup holders, next to a mug with boobs on it.

“God it’s gay in here.” You laughed, bringing a knee up onto the seat.

Ellie rolled her eyes, “well it’s probably because I’m gay.”

Ellie’s phone reconnected to the Bluetooth, and she quickly found a playlist. Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood began to play by she turned the volume.

“Wow really, I couldn’t tell.” You smirked earning a raised eyebrow from the brunette who was already lighting the joint.

She took a few puffs, breathing in, and slowly breathing out before handing it off to you. “takes one to know one…” She spoke, more as a question than a statement.

You took the joint between your fingers, brushing hers in the process. It sent tingles all the way up your arm. You brought it up to your lips to repeat her actions. A few drags in, letting the smoke slowly slip past your lips. “this is true.” You chuckled looking over at her.

Ellie’s eyes followed your every move, the way your fingers delicately held onto the joint, and the way your lips looked wrapped around the filter. There it was again, that thought about how your lips would look really good on-

“Earth to Ellie?” You waved your free hand to signal her back to reality. She locked eyes with you again. Even though it was dark, you could see a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks in the dim red lighting from her radio.

“Oh sorry, thanks.” Another long drag. “So how did you end up at the party?” She ques, taking one more hit before handing it off to you.

The joint was shorter, and you brushed fingers again. You liked how rough the pads of her fingers were. Now it was your time to blush, nearly dropping the joint in the process. You took a moment after your hit to think about your answer.

“Well, a girl invited me, and then I found her making out with someone else.” You blew out the smoke almost releasing your frustrations from earlier. “a guy from the frat, actually.”

Ellie winced at your response. “Damn, that’s rough I’m sorry.” A wave of emotions went through her, anger— because how could someone stand you up? But also relief— knowing that you weren’t going home with anyone gave her hope. “Bummer you didn’t get to make out with anyone, a real shame.” She joked, the weed making the two of you laugh.

“Truly! I mean the whole point of coming out here was to get laid.”

You both chuckled. You felt all ooey gooey from your chest down to your stomach. The effects of the joint, and the bass from the car, made your body melt into the seat cushions. You closed your eyes and hummed into satisfaction.

But Ellie, Ellie was more tense than ever. She watched as one of your legs came up onto the seat to make yourself more comfortable, your knee reaching outward onto the middle console closer to Ellie’s own leg. The other one casually spread out against the door. You looked so damn hot like that, and her thoughts began to drift.

She wondered what it would be like to softly rub the inside of your thigh. To lean over and leave a trail of kisses along your neck and jaw. What kind of noises you’d make if she could have her way with you in that passenger seat.

And when you opened your eyes, they locked with Ellie’s— a dark shade of moss and pine. Your eyes felt heavy, but you couldn’t seem to look away. But Ellie’s eyes began to travel, all over your body. Your face began to heat up, you wanted to know what she was thinking about, but you had a good idea. You could feel the way her eyes undressed you, and it made the feeling in your stomach even hotter, now pooling into your underwear.

You noticed the joint was coming to an end, and you had a thought. You reached over for her hand, which caused her to shake from her perverted thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was holding onto—“

You didn’t let her finish before you brought the short joint, still stuck between her worn fingers, to your soft lips. They were pressed gently against her pointer and middle finger. Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with pure admiration. She licked her lips before bringing her bottom one between her teeth, and letting her thumb rest against your jaw, softly stroking your cheek.

You pulled away a few seconds before gently pulling on her arm again, this time you leaned in as well. Your eyes were still heavy, but you were able to make contact with hers one more time before glancing down to her rosey lips. Your faces only inches apart.

“What are you—“ she began to question before you cupped her left cheek and brought your lips to hers. It was the slowest and softest touch, your lips felt light.

Despite Ellie’s high and sex driven brain, she could register what was happening, you were trying to shotgun. She lifted her other hand to hold the place between your neck and jaw, and gently sucked the smoke when you blew it into her mouth.

You pulled away to try and catch your breath. Your nose brushed hers as you pulled back slightly to watch Ellie exhale, but her hand never left your neck. It all felt like a dream, the way the smoke slipped past her lips as she tilted her head back slightly so it went up and not in your face. The sight of her left another warm wave between your legs. You could still feel her lips on your own, the tingling feeling dancing on your bottom lip. You wanted more. And she did too.

She didn’t hesitate to put the rest of the joint out and discard it in her ashtray before bringing her face back to yours. She brushed her nose against your own letting you know how close she was.

“Still thinking about how I never got the chance to make out with anyone.” You mumbled into her, causing her to chuckle.

“Y’know I think we can change that.” She smiles before drifting her lips to the side of your cheek, pressing a soft kiss, and dragging them to your jaw and neck. You tilt your head to the side to offer more access, softly humming in response.

“And if your whole plan was to come out here and get laid, we could make that happen too.”

You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. She knew what she was doing, saying that in her sexiest voice. Letting her hand slowly slide up even further into your inner thigh, softly squeezing it. So close to where you need her the most.

“Fuck Ellie get in the back, now.”

[alexxncl]

how the obey me characters like their coffee

brothers, dateables + luke, and side characters

resurgence of my coffee obsession has me thinking thoughts

and i'm right bc they all told me this themselves

masterlist | more drabbles/hcs

lucifer

i feel like he likes his shit sickeningly sweet...like you can barely taste the coffee

so much creamer it almost looks like milk, so much sugar that your teeth will fall out just by looking at it

it used to help him stay awake, but he's immune to it now. he just drinks it to drink it

he doesn't care for iced coffee that much. he had a sip of mammon's and almost gagged

mammon

the blackest coffee you've ever seen, extra espresso shots, whether it's hot or iced

y'all know how pedro pascal and jaemin from nct like their coffee? yeah...nasty

if he hasn't had his coffee, don't talk to him

unless you're mc or luke. then you have a pass

he drinks it before he leaves the house, while he's walking to RAD, while he's in class, while he's at lunch, while he's in detention, while he's-

you get the picture

but he won't admit that he's addicted

levi

he likes chai tea 🫶🏽

coffee never sat well with him, it made him more anxious than he already is

he likes the taste but he can live without it

he drank a bunch of it once while pulling an all-nighter with mammon before an exam...never again

luci and mams keep a very close eye on his caffeine intake

satan

no cream or milk, but a shit ton of sugar

"bitter like my soul" headass

he doesn't drink it often, but he's particular when he does

doesn't like hot coffee because he can't drink it right away

either makes it himself or asks asmo to do it when he's too tired

asmo

more milk than sugar with a pretty design on top

an oat milk girlie

strongly prefers hot coffee but will drink either

he just has a knack for creative stuff, y'know?

i feel like he worked as a batista for a while and does little pop up shops for his fans :(

beel

he doesn't drink coffee like that. it doesnt do anything for him

but he likes sweet things, so he asks belphie to put flavored creamer or sweetened almond milk and a lot of sugar in it whenever he does drink some

he started drinking it to get closer to luci and mams, but he never made a habit out of it like the two of them

asked asmo if he could learn how to make it so that mammon wouldn't run out during the day and is actually really good at it

belphie

do NOT give him coffee

he hates it

it's nasty and it makes him jittery

he'll make it, and he's almost as good as asmo, but he won't drink it. absolutely not

diavolo

never really got the hype until he had some of lucifer's

only drinks his coffee that way now

he still prefers tea, but a little caffeine every now and then won't hurt

he tried black coffee and hated it. you know he loves his sweets

barbatos

drinks it on occasion but will lie if you ask him about it

he's THE tea demon, yk? can't let the title be for nothing

if he makes some for diavolo, he'll drink it however dia likes it

if he's just making it for himself, he likes it with a little sugar and no creamer

simeon

spiked (sometimes, when he's not writing) and black

mainly because he doesn't want luke to drink any and thinks this is the best course of action

also because it keeps him awake

(he's like lucifer, coffee doesn't do anything for him anymore. it's a habit atp)

solomon

spiked and sweet

he's too old and too tired

but it's only ever spiked with top shelf, aged, hard shit bc he's extra

tried it black and spiked and hated it

luke

please don't give the baby coffee

11 year olds don't need coffee

he kept asking to try it, so mammon gave him some of his (much to simeon's disdain) and he quite literally almost died

he'll never touch it again bc why is it so BITTER

he won't admit to it but he cried

mammon has proof - videos and pictures

mephisto

tried it once and threw it away

likes his black like mammon, but way less espresso

only likes iced americanos

also likes them extremely watered down ??? idk man he's weird

raphael

another tea drinker but he likes his caffeinated

can't stand the taste of coffee, he doesn't know how simeon drinks it so often

tried some of simeon's - before he started spiking it, mind you - and threw it away bc he thought it was disgusting

simeon did not in fact cry (yes he did)

thirteen

it depends on the day, but she's a mocha girlie 99% of the time

when just wants coffee or she's having a really bad day, she gets her usual

if it's a really good day, she gets something different

iced or hot, she doesn't care

a very specific order and only gets hers from a very specific mom and pop shop in a run-down area of the otherworld

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Sweet Nothing: The Morning

summary: life with joel (and sarah) before the end comes is sweet nothing.

pairing: gn!reader x preoutbreak!joel miller, sarah miller

contents: song based fic, tooth rotting fluff, food mention, kisses

word count: 688

gif credits: @avasillva

an: because if there’s anybody who needs nothing to be expected of them, it’s joel miller. be nice to me please, this is my first time writing for him. thank you to both @honeybrowne and @inklore for encouragement to dip my toe into the joel pool! <3

sweet nothing masterlist | misc. masterlist | requests are open

There’s a stillness about morning that Joel covets— more particularly the mornings he gets to spend with you. They are made of a bunch of nothing, a conglomerate of moments that someone could brush away as routine or mundane. But, that’s the beauty of you. Every moment he spends with you feels noteworthy, like something he should write down in a book to memorialize forever.

He can smell that you’re awake before his eyes even open. The telltale smell of espresso wafts through the entire house and he smiles, rubbing the sleep out of his blinking eyes. The sun is just rising, orange and red just peaking over the horizon and spilling through the thick curtains of your shared bedroom.

He can picture you, hair messy and wild from sleep in the shirt he bought a few sizes too big just so it’ll really swallow you up. The ghost of your hum, soft and sweet, some pop song he doesn’t know the words to but soon will because you and Sarah will play it into the ground.

You putter around the kitchen with stealth, doing your best to stay quiet even as the smell spreads. Your routine is simple, grinding your beans, smoothing and leveling and pressing. Steaming and frothing milk. Two shots for you, two shots for him, an adjustment from the four he’d be used to before you. You find just as much joy in the process as you do in the product and the moments there after.

Just as he gathers the strength to push himself up to meet you downstairs the door opens and you slink inside. The smell of espresso is stronger now, rich and smoky and you hold up both of your steaming mugs with a grin that makes his heart stutter.

“Oh, sleeping beauty’s awake, hmm?” You tease, softly shutting the door behind you with your foot. The last thing you want to do is wake the true sleeping beauty too early.

“You didn’t wake up this early til’ you met me,” He quips, stretching as he sits up.

“Yeah, whatever makes you feel better baby,” You carefully climb into bed next to him.

As always, his voice rough and low with sleep, Joel murmurs a genuine, “Thank you.”

You shake your head, knocking it against his shoulder, “Anytime.”

Comfortable silence. It was something that never existed to you before Joel. You and silence weren’t a thing until you met this shy man— something he denies. According to him, he’s serious, not quiet.

He’s always been fine with you filling it whenever you see fit, but you’ve grown to appreciate small bouts of it because it’s with him. The two of you sit shoulder to shoulder, sipping coffee in the quiet of the morning.

Coffee finished, Joel pulls you close, his mouth as light as feather against yours when there’s a knock on the door. You both jump, heads turning towards the door.

“I know you’re awake, I smell the coffee!” Sarah yells through a laugh.

Joel snorts, shaking his head, “Good morning to you too darlin’.”

“Are there pants on?” She shouts through the door.

“Yes!” You and Joel shout in unison.

“Then let me in!” She insists, rattling the knob in a move that makes you both laugh again.

You turn to him with a smile. One of his favorite things about you is the lack of disappointment in your eyes when you two are interrupted— the space that you’ve created for Sarah in your heart. That your love always encompasses all of the unpredictability of loving him and the tiny family he has— that you’re part of it now.

He presses a kiss to your cheek, “It was good while it lasted, yeah honey?”

“It’s perfect. All of it, it’s perfect,” You murmur before hopping out of bed to unlock the door.

There’s nothing sweeter than the moment Sarah bursts through the door and jumps into bed next to her dad. Except for the moment she asks you to join them while tugging on Joel’s ear. And who are you to say no to the resident sleeping beauty?

part 2: mohawk

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in joel miller stuffs!

taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur