#like. the movie ends and you just came and he’s like ‘oh did you finish your homework for tomorrow already btw

[nottsangel]

bsf theo who once fingered you while watching a movie and you didn’t seem to care now every time you guys watch movies be fingers you but then you guys act like it never happened

yup nothing weird about that. you’re just his personal fidget toy ! he gets to keep his hands busy and you get to cum. it’s just two best friends helping each other out 😇

[hairmetal666]

Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.

He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.

Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"

The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."

And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."

"No shit? It's great."

"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."

The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"

Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."

Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."

Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.

"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."

"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"

The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."

Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."

"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."

"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"

"No! It's toilet paper."

Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.

It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.

"Here," he says. "Try this."

"Joni Mitchell?"

"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."

"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house," Eddie shrugs.

"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."

And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--

And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.

The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.

"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.

"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--

"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--

He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.

He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.

---

Harrington comes back.

The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.

"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.

"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.

"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."

Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.

"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.

"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."

Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."

He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"

"Think of it more as an opportunity."

"To regret every decision I've ever made?"

"To expand your musical horizons."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."

Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."

And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.

As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."

Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"

"--terrible?--"

"Avant garde."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"

Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.

---

He keeps coming back.

Eddie tries not to read into it.

Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.

But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.

But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.

Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.

But Steve has a girlfriend.

They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.

He tries not to read into it.

---

They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.

Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.

Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

"Steve?" He calls.

He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.

"What happened?"

"Traffic."

Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."

"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."

He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.

Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.

Eddie stops breathing.

Steve closes the distance between them.

What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.

He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.

"Nancy?"

"You have a girlfriend."

Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."

Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.

"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."

He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"

Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"

"It was the best way."

"But you're--?"

"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"

"That was because of the jacket!"

"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"

"That describes five dudes I see a day!"

"And you thought they were straight??"

Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.

"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"

Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"

"So okay."

"You do like me back?"

"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."

"And now?"

"Come back to my place?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.

[sserpente]

Gifts and Roses

The other day, you saw a trend going around on the Internet where girlfriends shove some flowers into their boyfriends’ hands when they come home and then close the door on them only to then pretend their boyfriends got them for them. Now that sounds like way too much fun to pass up. Good thing Sylus is about to pick you up…

A/N: I saw this on the clock app just now and ran to write this. Have fun!

Words: 1162 Warnings: fluff

The trend was all over the Internet. It was funny if anything and your fingers were itching to try it with Sylus. For the laughs. And his reaction.

He was on his way to you now to pick you up to stay with him in the N109 zone over the weekend, spending some time with him, training together…perhaps you could even convince him to do a cheesy movie night with you.

For now, you’d found the perfect spot to hide your phone to record him. You’d strike when he was about to walk through the door. You looked at your Hunter’s Watch. Which should be any moment.

His knock came as if on cue. Confident, loud…how on Earth did he manage to make his knock sound dominant? You shook your head and quickly grabbed the flower bouquet you’d bought this afternoon. Two dozen red roses that smelled heavenly.

You giggled. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Next thing he knew, you opened the door energetically only to shove the flowers in his hands.

“Good evening, ki—”

Then, you shut it in his face again before he could finish his sentence. Five seconds passed, then ten. Enough time for you to cover your mouth with your hands to stifle a hysterical laugh. You had never seen him so taken aback before. Oh, that video was going to be gold!

Finally, he knocked again. You took a deep breath before you swung it open again. He was blinking as if I’d suggested he should start a singing career. “What…the hell was that?”

“Sylus! Oh, what, flowers, for me? Oh, you didn’t have to, that’s so sweet of you! Thank you! Come on in!”

Sylus tilted his head and smirked. “Your antics are getting crazier by the day. If you wanted me to bring you flowers, kitten, all you had to do was ask.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he handed the roses back to you and kissed your cheek in greeting.

“It doesn’t count if I have to ask for them. Besides, your expression was priceless. It…was mainly because of this Internet trend so I set up my camera to—”

Sylus shut you up with a wild kiss. “You recorded me?” he asked then, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“…Yeah?”

“You are testing my patience, kitten. One of these days, you will successfully get on my last nerve and claim it for yourself.”

You grinned. “Would you like some dinner before that happens? I ordered some food for us.”

Sylus nodded. Amused still, he watched you retrieve your phone and followed you into the kitchen where you put the flowers in a vase before you grabbed the still-warm bags of food from the counter to make your way over to the dining table. Sylus had taken a seat already, one of his legs draped over his knee. He was engrossed in his phone all of a sudden and didn’t even look up when you served the food and eventually joined him.

“Busy week?”

“Hmm? No…surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy.”

“Who are you texting then? Are you sending angry emails again?” You raised an eyebrow. Sylus had a knack for terrifying people with his emails. You felt sorry for the poor guy at the receiving end of this one.

“No. No angry emails this time.”

You cleared your throat. “Okay then…I guess I’ll just start eating.”

With a start, Sylus paused and met your gaze. “Are you upset?”

“No! No, I just…I’d rather talk to you than watch you type away on your phone while we eat is all.”

He gave you an amused but honest smile, put his phone back into his pocket without another comment, and picked up his chopsticks instead.

“Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I qualified for the Senior Hunter Contest this week! The trials are starting next week. Would you…train with me a little over the weekend?”

“Were you now?” He chuckled. “I expected no less from you, Miss Hunter. Well done. Of course, I’ll train with you. But only if you listen to me when I tell you to rest. Unlike last time, hmm?”

“I passed out once, are you going to hold this against me forever?”

He leaned forward as if to make a point. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. So…how was your week?”

You both finished your meal chatting about dubious business deals, Luke succeeding in doing a backflip for the first time and an angry email Sylus did send out on Thursday. Once you were done and you’d cleaned up, he grabbed the bag you’d packed for the weekend and beckoned you to follow him.

You had been looking forward to riding his motorcycle again all week. His affinity for ignoring speed limits (or lack thereof) aside, it was one of your favourite ways to spend time with him. The thrill that connected Sylus and you on your way back to the N109 zone was truly unmatched.

You took a deep breath when you arrived and took your helmet off, inhaling the crisp night air. You absolutely had to put ‘go for a drive’ on your weekend to-do list as well. Perhaps he’d even let you drive yourself. You rather liked the idea of him wrapping his arms around you for a change.

“Come. You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not!” Your body made you yawn before you could stop yourself. Traitor.

Sylus smirked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try and overthrow your sleep schedule every other weekend, kitten. I can stay up long enough for us to spend time together regardless.”

“I know but…”

“No buts.”

His large hand found your waist after he dismounted his bike himself, took your bag, and led you inside. Unlike what you had expected, however, he didn’t take you to his bedroom as usual but the guest room.

“I have some work I need to finish. I don’t want to disturb your rest.”

“I don’t mind. I like your bed better than—”

You paused when Sylus opened the door. The guest room didn’t look like you remembered it. Roses. Hundreds of them, decorating every single surface. Even on the bed, there were dozens of rose heads and the floor was speckled with fresh petals.

Your jaw dropped. “S-Sylus…”

“I had Luke and Kieran bring them to the guest room as soon as they were delivered.”

Delivered? “Wait…That is what you were doing on your phone during dinner? You ordered roses? Oh, Sylus…I feel bad now.”

“Don’t. My kitten wanted flowers so I got her flowers. And in the future…” He hugged you from behind, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “…you better stock up on your vases, sweetie. And no more secret filming me, yes?”

You flipped around and grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I promise. But only if you stay with me until I’ve fallen asleep.”

Sylus smirked. “Deal.”

[loveyouprongs]

are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

[witchthewriter]

Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust

Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...

Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.

This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')

Da = Johnny

Papa = John P.

Dad= Simon

Daddy = Kyle

School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.

Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).

Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.

And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.

None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.

Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.

Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"

"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.

Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"

After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.

Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.

With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.

The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.

When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.

"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.

You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.

"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.

Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.

"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.

All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.

"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.

"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.

"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.

"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.

"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.

"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.

"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.

"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.

"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.

"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"

The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.

Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.

"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."

"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)

Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.

"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.

"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.

It was always hard to hang up.

It hurt.

But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.

'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.

"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.

"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."

"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.

You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.

"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."

[milktiicup]

Can you make a Mr. Silver or Mr.Machete fic. I've barely seen any fics of them :(, just kinda been consuming what I can for a fic. The most common ones I encounter are Mr.Crawling and Mr.Scarletta (which I've finished all of them possibly)...

Any tag is good, fluff, angst, uh... smut? I'm just gonna read anything since I'm so content-deprived 😭

anatomy of feeling

He saw you as a research subject, and you doubt he even saw you as a friend. And yet, you let him cut you open, spread you apart and put you back together. The least he could do is kiss you in return, right?

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ hhelellooooo have this mr silvair fic realising he actually kinda likes u lol

warnings. AAAAAAAANGST, unrequited feelings (kind of), mr silvair typical research (u know what i mean), hurt/comfort, HAPPY ENDING! :D

You don’t mind being a test subject- you were too far gone to even consider going home anymore. You were human, you were monster- and now you’re somewhere in between that you don’t have anywhere you can exactly call home, but Mr. Silvair was ‘kind’ enough to lend you his room, a bed to sleep on, all in exchange of hacking your body to a mushy pile of meat from time to time!

It’s not an ideal situation to be in, head over heels on the guy who researches your body inside out- and it’s not like he even likes you- you’re not even sure if Mr. Silvair is one to understand romantic feelings, anyway.

You remember the first day he indulged you- missing human skin to skin contact, missing a real connection to somebody. Mr. Gap had so kindfully lent you a magazine from the human world, and you can only imagine he gave you it free of charge because you were so down. Of course, it just had to be a magazine promoting some romance movie, the lead couple all snuggled up and kissing on the front page.

You broke down crying. You mean, of course Mr. Gap meant well, but really? It was an embarrassing state you were in, fat tears running down your face and dropping onto your legs.

Mr. Silvair had found you, obviously. Your new home was a research room. 

“You okay?” he asked, lips tugging into a frown. “Pain? Hurt?”

“Sad,” you corrected, using your raincoat sleeve to dry your eyes. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Me sad. Miss home. Want home.”

Mr. Silvair kneeled down in front of you. “This home.”

You bit your lip, and looked away. “Miss…” Stuff? Things? “...stuff from home.” You gesture to the magazine. “Humans. Touch.”

“Miss this?” he questioned, taking a seat beside you. He picked up the magazine, eyeing the front cover through his bandaged eyes, and flipped through the pages momentarily. “What miss?” 

You pointed to the front page. “...This ‘kiss.’”

“Mouth touch?”

You nodded. “Mouth touch.”

“Kish?”

You shook your head. “Kisssss,” you hissed the words out. 

“Kisssss,” he repeated, your hiss echoing.

You giggled, cheeks still wet from your tears. You wipe your eyes once more. “Miss kiss. Miss hug. Miss… human touch.”

Mr. Silvair set the magazine down and faced you. He patted the spot next to him, and you scooched yourself over. He tilted his head at you, a smile on his face. “Me kiss you?” he asked, and you froze. “Kiss you, you happy. Interested in kiss.”

The weight of his words settled over you like an uncertain storm. You studied Mr. Silvair’s face. The suggestion caught you off guard, yet his sincerity was unmistakable.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. Could he even comprehend what he was offering? Did he understand what kissing meant to humans, or was he simply trying to imitate the concept based on your longing? He had always been practical, clinical even, in his interactions.

Who were you kidding? Of course he doesn’t understand. He saw you as a research subject, and you doubt he even saw you as a friend. And yet, you let him cut you open, spread you apart and put you back together.

The least he could do is kiss you in return, right? 

You nodded, and Mr. Silvair didn’t make a move to kiss you at all.

“Teach kiss,” he said.

Oh. Right.

His lips, cold as they were, carried a surprising softness, almost cushiony. It was strange, almost surreal, feeling such a delicate part of him when so much of your life in his presence had been sharp edges, instruments, and prodding hands. There was no pressure in the kiss, no demand- just a willingness to learn. It was methodical, curious, like an experiment he was determined to get right.

After that moment, his kisses were a frequent part of your life. He sliced you, diced you, and put you back together and kissed you so softly afterwards that whatever remaining pain you felt was an afterthought. 

And you still weren’t happy. His kisses were to keep you in check, to keep you from being a sad little subject. And of course, your body may not be human, but your feelings and heart were. It just reminded you that no matter how much he touched you, or when he learned where to put his hands as the kisses deepened, that he was still unattainable. He still wasn’t yours, but you were his. 

“You okay?” he asks, offering you a hand off of the table. “Mind flawed? Shape flawed?” 

“I’m okay,” you reply with a shake of your head, and grasping his hand. “Mind good.”

Mr. Silvair smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist and interlocking your fingers together. His head ducks down, silver hair falling off of his shoulder and presses his lips to yours. You close your eyes, indulge in the moment, and move your lips against his.

It hurt.

It was like pressing against a bruise you couldn't stop prodding- painful, but addictive in its familiarity. Because no matter how much you wished otherwise, you couldn’t forget that these kisses weren’t rooted in love or desire. They were a kindness, a calculated gesture to keep you "fixed," to stabilise his research subject.

And you couldn’t bear it anymore.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what his closeness did to you- how much it fed the ache of your loneliness while also making it worse. He didn’t understand the depths of your feelings, and he never would. For him, this was just another experiment, another connection to study and emulate. But for you, it was everything.

So you decided, silently and painfully, to stop kissing him.

The next time he leaned in, tilting his head expectantly, you pulled away ever so slightly. “Not now,” you murmured, offering a small, strained smile. He tilted his head, confusion flickering over his face, but didn’t press further.

At first, it seemed like nothing had changed. He continued his work as usual, observing, dissecting, and repairing you with the same meticulous care. But when the moments came- those pauses where he’d normally press his lips to yours- you’d shift away, redirecting the moment with a comment or a question.

And he noticed.

At first, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the way his brows furrowed whenever you turned away, the way his hands hovered near you, uncertain. He started lingering after procedures, watching you with an intensity that made your chest tighten. You could tell he was waiting, expecting.

One day, after yet another procedure, he hesitated longer than usual. His hand brushed against yours, his face mere inches away as he whispered, “Sad again?”

You shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “No. Not sad.”

He frowned. “No kiss,” he said, more a statement than a question. His voice carried a weight you hadn’t heard before. 

You swallowed hard.“I don’t need it,” you said softly, though your heart screamed otherwise. “I’m okay.”

He stepped back slightly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d let it go. But then he spoke, “Kiss… make you happy.”

Your chest ached at the simplicity of his words, the sincerity behind them. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know how much more it hurt to keep pretending, to keep grasping at something that wasn’t real.

“It’s not about that,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m okay. Really.”

Mr. Silvair didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded slowly, and turned away.

In the days that followed, he grew quieter. His usual precision faltered, his movements distracted. He still cared for you, still treated you with the same careful attention, but the pauses- the moments where he’d once leaned in for a kiss- were now filled with silence.

One evening, after he injected the medicine into your arm, you heard him speak from across the room. “No kiss… you not happy.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned your head to look at him. He sat at his desk, his hands clasped tightly together, his head bowed.

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. You blinked them back. Just how much more of this could you take before you break fully, and he couldn’t put you back together anymore? 

He looked up, his bandaged eyes meeting yours as though he could see straight through you. “Me not enough?” 

The words broke something inside you. Because he wasn’t enough- not for what you wanted, not for what you needed. But the truth was, you weren’t enough for him either. You couldn’t make a man who doesn’t understand like you. Any attempt was futile. 

So you stayed silent, letting the weight of your unrequited feelings hang in the air between you.

Days passed, and the silence between you and Mr. Silvair grew heavier, though neither of you addressed it directly. You carried the weight of your feelings alone, trying to convince yourself that distancing was the right choice. Meanwhile, his quiet melancholy lingered, each unspoken word from him carving a deeper ache in your chest.

But then, one evening, everything changed.

You sat on the bed, fiddling absentmindedly with the corner of your raincoat. Mr. Silvair had been working at his desk for hours, his silver hair catching the faint light as he scribbled notes and adjusted instruments. You thought he was too absorbed in his research to notice you, but suddenly, he turned.

“I…” he began, his voice hesitant, and he stood up, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

You glanced up, startled. “What is it?”

He stopped just in front of you. Your legs hung off the bed. “You… stay sad,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “No pain. No hurt. Shape good. Mind good. Why?”

The question hit you harder than you expected. You took a shaky breath and shrugged. “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Explain,” he pressed, his tone more insistent. “Want you happy.”

It was as if someone had dumped ice cold water on top of you. Want you happy. Why? He shouldn’t have cared in the first place if you were happy or not- he should’ve just cared that you were sound of mind, and not trying to kill everything in this place. Your hands shook. Your breathing picked up. Your heart hammered uncomfortably against your rib cage.

Your fists clenched. You scowled. “Why care?” I’m nothing but a subject. “Me… only research.”

Your question caught him by surprise. He frowns, and takes a seat next to you on the bed. Mr. Silvair is silent for a moment, processing, thinking. “Not-...” he stops himself. You gaze at him from the corner of your eye, his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. “Not only research.”

Great. Friendzoned. 

“You don’t understand,” you say, “You don’t feel like I feel, Mr. Silvair. You can’t understand.” And under your breath, you utter, “Told me that a million times already…” 

“Teach me,” he said simply. 

Your breath caught at his words. They were so simple, so stark in their honesty, yet they cut through all your swirling thoughts. Teach him? How could you possibly teach someone like Mr. Silvair something as complex, as human, as love? Did he even have the capacity for it?

You stared at him, analysing. Was he being… for real? His bandaged eyes stared intently at you as if he could see straight into the messed up web of your emotions. His lips, which had been both your salvation and your torment, were pressed together in a slight, thoughtful frown.

“Teach you…” you repeated, your voice trembling. “How?”

He tilted his head. “Teach ‘kiss,’” he pointed out softly. “Teach this. This feeling.”

You knew better than to believe in it. He didn’t know what it meant to love, not in the way you felt it, not in the way humans could. He was a scientist, a researcher, so lost in his experiments that he’d forgotten what it meant to simply feel without measuring it, calculating it, dissecting it into pieces. He wanted to understand, yes- but could he really? 

“Can’t…” you mumbled. “I don’t think I can. Cannot learn to feel. You don’t feel like me.”

Mr. Silvair’s frown deepened, and he reached out, his cold fingers brushing yours. The touch was hesitant, almost unsure, but it made your heart ache all the same. “Feel... something,” he said, voice low. “When you sad, me… don’t like.”

You stared at him, startled. It wasn’t a declaration of love, not by any means, but it was more emotion than you’d ever heard from him before. More than you thought he could express.

“Why?” you whispered. “Why do you care if I’m sad?”

He hesitated again, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. You half expected an Me interested in you, but… “You… important,” he said haltingly, as though the words themselves were foreign to him. “You hurt, me feel wrong. Dislike. Interested in you… care you.”

Your heart ached. “You’re serious?”

He nodded. “Want you happy. Interested… learn. Want learn.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, hope stirred in your chest. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t the fairy tale romance you’d dreamed of, but it was real.

“Then… let’s figure it out. Together.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Together.”

This time, when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was still awkward, still unsure, but it carried a warmth that hadn’t been there before—a promise, fragile but genuine.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you’d found a place to call home. Not in a room or a world, but in the arms of someone who wanted to learn how to care for you as much as you cared for him.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Matchmaker

Summary: JJ tries to set Spencer up with Henry's pediatrician.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x pediatrician fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none!

Word count: 1.1k

a/n: gonna grab his cute little face and smooooochhhhhh

btw i will be posting on tuesday's and friday's because they won the poll but this is a bonus thursday post because i'm hungover and want spencer's love

main masterlist

“Hey, Spence!” JJ called out as she strolled into the bullpen, her bright smile making Spencer look up from the file he was reviewing.

“What’s up, JJ?” Spencer replied, adjusting his glasses and setting the file aside to give her his full attention.

“So, I was thinking…” JJ began, her tone light and playful, but before she could finish, Emily chimed in from across the room, a grin spreading across her face.

“Well, that’s never good,” Emily chuckled, earning an amused roll of the eyes from JJ.

“Love you too, Em,” JJ shot back, her voice dripping with mock sarcasm before she refocused on Spencer. “Anyway, as I was saying, I was thinking, you’d be a really good match for Henry’s pediatrician.”

Spencer blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the conversation to take this turn. “Ohhh, what’s she like? Super brainiac nerd?” Emily teased, wiggling her eyebrows at Spencer, who scoffed lightly.

“Rude,” Spencer shot back with a half-smile before turning back to JJ, his expression softening. “And uh, that’s nice of you, JJ… but I’m not really looking to be set up.”

JJ, undeterred, leaned against Spencer’s desk, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of determination and affection. “Oh, come on, just meet her. She’s the best! I know you guys will click.”

Spencer’s smile faded slightly as he considered her words, his brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, he sighed, his tone gentle but resolute. “Sorry, JJ. I’m not interested. It’s sweet of you to think about me, though.”

Spencer assumed that was the end of the conversation, especially since JJ didn’t bring up the mystery woman again in the days that followed. He thought he was in the clear, believing that JJ had respected his decision. Little did he know, JJ wasn’t one to give up so easily, especially when she believed she was doing something good for someone she cared about.

—

“Hey, babe,” you greeted Spencer when he answered the phone, your voice warm and light, immediately bringing a smile to his face.

“Hi,” he replied, and even through the phone, you could hear the smile in his voice, the simple greeting filling you with that familiar warmth.

You and Spencer had only been seeing each other for about six weeks, but those six weeks had been transformative—arguably the best of both of your adult lives. Every moment spent together seemed to be a little brighter, a little more meaningful, as if you had both found something truly special.

“What’s up?” you asked, settling into a comfortable spot on your couch, your curiosity piqued by the call.

“Well,” Spencer began, his voice carrying a note of hopeful anticipation, “I was going to see if you would want to hang out Friday night. We could watch that movie I was telling you about.”

A smile spread across your face, touched by his thoughtfulness, but a twinge of regret quickly followed. “Awe, Spence. I’d love to, but my friend actually invited me out that night. I’m sorry, honey.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, just long enough for you to wonder if he might be disappointed. But then Spencer’s voice came back, just as warm and understanding as always. “Oh, it’s okay, maybe Saturday?”

Relief washed over you, your smile returning in full force. “I can do that! Put me in your calendar, genius.”

“Will do,” Spencer said, and you could almost picture the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday then?”

“See you then, can’t wait,” you replied, your voice full of genuine excitement. The anticipation of spending more time with him was something you both shared, and as you ended the call, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar flutter in your chest, counting down the days until Saturday.

—

Seeing as Spencer didn’t have any plans for Friday night, it didn’t take much convincing for the team to drag him out for drinks at their usual bar. The large booth was already filled with the familiar hum of conversation and laughter as the team chatted amongst themselves, waiting for JJ to arrive. The atmosphere was relaxed, the kind that only comes from years of friendship and countless nights spent together unwinding after a long week.

When JJ finally walked in, the group greeted her with smiles and waves, but it didn’t take long for them to notice that she wasn’t alone. Following close behind her was another person, and as they got closer, Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief. No way.

“Hey guys!” JJ greeted, her voice full of excitement. “This is my friend, Y/N! She’s Henry’s pediatrician, and she is absolutely amazing. Spencer, this is who I wanted you to meet.”

Spencer couldn’t even try to hold it in. The absurdity of the situation hit him all at once, and before he knew it, he was laughing—right in JJ’s face. It wasn’t just a chuckle, either; it was a full, genuine laugh, the kind that took him by surprise as much as it did the rest of the team.

“Reid, have some manners. What is wrong with you?” Derek’s voice cut through the laughter, laced with awkward confusion. He wasn’t used to seeing Spencer act this way, especially not when meeting someone new.

But before Spencer could even attempt to explain himself, you joined in, your own laughter bubbling up as you leaned down toward him, completely unbothered by the awkwardness. With a playful smile, you kissed Spencer on the lips, the simple, affectionate gesture leaving everyone at the table stunned. 

“Hi, baby,” you greeted him warmly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Spencer, still grinning, managed to recover enough to return the greeting, “Hi.”

The rest of the team stared in shock, jaws practically on the floor, while JJ’s expression morphed from confusion to wide-eyed realization. “Wait… you two know each other?” she asked, her voice rising in surprise.

“Oh, we more than know each other,” you teased, taking a seat next to Spencer and intertwining your fingers with his. “I’m Spencer’s girlfriend.”

Derek’s eyes widened as he looked between the two of you. “And you didn’t tell us, pretty boy?”

Spencer shrugged, a bit sheepish but mostly amused by the whole situation. “It just… never came up.”

Emily finally broke the silence with a laugh. “Well, this is one way to find out!”

JJ groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment before laughing along with the rest of the group. “I can’t believe I tried to set you up with someone you’re already dating!”

“It’s okay, JJ,” Spencer reassured her, still holding your hand. “At least you know that your matchmaking skills would have worked out.”

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

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig

[foodiegoogie]

request for james potter x sunshine gf? like yapper x yapper <3

note: thank u for requesting my sanny angel <3 i was so excited to write this when i got ur req hehe :P thanks 4 being so patient as well !! hope u like this :P

paint me a picture

james potter x fem!reader ✮ 2.2k cw/tags: established relationship, that ‘couple paints each other’ trend on tiktok, MOO DENG CAMEO, tooth-rutting fluff mayhaps? and a lil crack :>

If you were ever put in a situation where you’re stuck in a room full of complete strangers, chances are that you’d strike up a conversation with one, two, or a handful of people no matter how off-putting they might seem as a stranger. You had a knack for talking people’s ears off, your mouth running faster than your brain ever did—spewing word after word before you could even finish your train of thought. 

Frankly speaking, you were well-aware that your talkativeness came across as annoying to most people. It was a hard pill for you to swallow, because you really, really liked to talk to people. You thrived in sharing your interests and whatever it was that came to your mind with other people. But the pressure was immense, and society—cruel, so you had to make do and shut your mouth if you could handle it. 

When you met James, however, it was like one of those cliché moments in movies—the ones about destiny and fate and soulmates. Because who knew that you’d find your match in being a chatterbox in someone as charming, and lovely as him? 

James Potter, in all his bumbling, comical, and boyish glory, did not stray away from you from the very first sign that gave away your talkative nature. 

And it appeared that he wasn’t planning on ever doing so in the near future. 

“Oh, but have you seen the one of her biting that zookeeper’s leg? She’s so adorable– I can’t!” You gushed as you filled in the gaps of James’ uncolored ears—the James in your portrait, not your actual James—with brush strokes of warm, chocolate brown paint.

The real-life James who sat across from you chuckled softly at your enthusiasm. “I know, right? She’s a little troublemaker, that one. I’d steal her away if I could.”

“Me too, me too,” Your vehement agreement amuses your boyfriend. “Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to have a hippo as a pet!”

James’ nose wrinkles, as if in distaste, at your statement. “Wouldn’t that be hard though? They’re always covered in mucus, and they’re always underwater. Hippos are a little high-maintenance if you really think about it.” 

“Respectfully, James, I never asked for your opinion.” 

James’ mouth hangs open in shock, his hand frozen as it holds a paintbrush in front of his own canvas of his portrait of you. 

“I can’t believe you’d say that to me,” He fakes a sob, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought we had something special, love.” 

You sigh, going along with his act. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Jamie. You know how I feel about pets.”

“So that’s just it, then? You’re leaving me for a hippopotamus?” James cracks his voice at the end of his lamenting, hand flying up to cover his mouth, suppressing his “sobs.”

It was getting admittedly hard for you to keep up the act, though. But you persevere.

“It’s nothing personal, James. I swear,” Your voice wavers at the end, the start of an uprising laughter in your throat.

“Do you, actually?” 

You count what seems to be like five seconds of you and your boyfriend just staring at each other. It was almost as if James was challenging you to break. Ironically, you were starting to think that you were going to. 

But then he beats you there as you watch his face split into a wide grin, his canines doing nothing to quell his boyish handsomeness. Your boy always looked good, but he looked especially nicer when he was happy, smiling. 

Laughing, too, most of all. James had the kind of laughter that sounded like a wind chime when a breeze passed by, making you feel light and floaty as if on a cloud. He also had the kind of laughter that you just couldn’t help but join in, and share the moment with him.

“Absolutely nothing,” was what he would say whenever you asked him what you wanted to do together. 

But if you asked him what you’d want to talk about? James would say, “Absolutely everything.”

“Now I can’t remember what I was supposed to do!” You exclaimed, your laughter dying down to soft, involuntary chuckles as the lighthearted air of James’ relentless quips lingers between you both. “If my portrait turns out wonky, I’m blaming you.”

James’ grin could only grow with pride. He always loved to make you laugh. “Hey, that’s not fair. I only asked if–”

“No, don’t start again!” You rushed to stop him, pursing your lips to contain yourself.

“I haven’t even said anything,” He beamed at you, unashamed of how cheeky he was being. 

“You were gonna!” 

Your boyfriend shakes his head resolutely, pushing his glasses up his nose with a careful finger. “No, I wasn’t!”

“Top ten things a liar would say.”

James scoffs, affronted. “Top ten things an unfair person would say.”

You tut, shaking your head disapprovingly. “You need to come up with your own comebacks, you know.”

“Well, hey– it’s not my fault I decided to date the loveliest, most creative, most swell girl ever in the entire world,” Your boyfriend reasons, his million-dollar smile ever present on his lips.

You feel your face grow warm by his words. Even after a year (and counting) of being with James romantically, you could never quite get used to his praising you. But that had been the deal—if you couldn’t get used to it, then he’d have to do it more often so that you would eventually get used to it.

So, you clear your throat, returning your attention back to the task at hand: painting a portrait of your boyfriend. James can see right through your feigned indifference, but mirrors your actions with his own painting. 

“‘Swell?’” You place the finishing touches of your painting of James on your canvas. There’s colours of red, brown, orange, yellow, and all its shades from the most subtle to the most vibrant. You’re not really a painter, you’re more of an appreciator of paintings. But you hoped that the message would get through to your boyfriend—to you, he was love and warmth personified. 

He shrugs in response, eyes glimmering with mirth as he works on his own portrait of you. You couldn’t help but wonder what he had drawn and painted of you. The anticipation was high. “Yeah, you’re swell.” 

“Where’d you get that from?” 

“Er,” James scratches behind his ear with his free hand. “Sirius.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I knew it.” 

Your boyfriend spares you a glance over his canvas, and you meet eyes with your smiles mirroring each other. James hears you snicker as you turn back to your painting, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen.

“Alright, I think… I’m done,” You lean back against your chair, observing your portrait of James with criticising eyes—though not necessarily criticising the muse of your painting, but rather the painting you’d done yourself. 

Real-life James from across you makes a humming sound. “I think… I am, too.” 

“So, who’s going first?” The pair of you chorus, then laugh.

“Ladies first?” Your boyfriend asked.

You consider it for a moment, eyes never leaving your painting as you continue to observe it. You were afraid of mucking it up further than how messy it looked now to you, so you refrain from making any more adjustments. 

“Uh… no. I think it’s best if you go first,” A rueful smile graces your lips. 

James sighs, and you just know he’s downplaying his own efforts before the painting is even shown to you. “Alright, then. Here we–”

“—Also because I think we should save the best for last,” You rushed to say, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him.

Your boyfriend’s eyes go comically wide, and as you do your evil cackling, he scoffs indignantly. “I see how it is. Well, feast your eyes upon my greatest creation of all time–!”

James grabs his canvas by the sides with careful hands, then flips it around so the front of his painting is finally facing you. 

Behind the canvas, the artist—your boy—has his gaze fixed on your face, waiting for any sign of a reaction. In truth, he’d be devastated if you didn’t crack a smile or gasp! “This is amazing, James! I love you with my whole heart!” 

But he’s also aware that he wasn’t Van Gogh or Picasso, so he should be cutting himself some slack. But damn it all if he doesn’t get your stamp of approval on his painting of you—the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. 

Said “beautiful work of art he’s ever seen” now sits across from him, rendered speechless—which was out of the ordinary, so you had James worried. You did expect something “humble” to come out of his work, something worth placing in the Louvre museum that would rival the Mona Lisa, and something you’d both argue over like, “James, this is amazing!” and he’d respond, “Nah, I could do better.” 

Well, your expectations were met, but they had exceeded you by a lot. A lot, a lot. 

The background of the portrait is painted in a pastel, sky blue colour, adorned with symmetrically shaped clouds in white. And there’s that sun in the corner of the canvas, a smiley face drawn on it, too—a staple in a child’s painting. 

But it didn’t stop there; alongside the clouds were some painted flowers. There were daisies, your favourite. Tulips, also your favourite. There were little bees and butterflies and hearts all around, there was so much going on in the background of the painting that you didn’t know which to pay attention to.

Though you did know, realistically, which to pay attention to. It wasn’t in the birds and the bees painted haphazardly across the background—in the middle of the painting was a rather messier variant of you. You in your candid, cozy glory, donning your jumper. The curve of your jaw, the size of your eyes. James had managed to capture you in your likeness. You could see yourself in the painting. 

Most of all, however, you’re speechless of the fact he’d managed to capture you beautifully. Have you always looked like this to him? Is this what he sees every time he looks at you? Is this what he sees now as he looks at you?

“Erm, do you–“ James clears his throat, his fingers drumming against the sides of his canvas as he held it up in front of you. He was anxious because you still hadn’t shown any reaction whatsoever in the span of half a minute. “is it that bad?” 

A lighthearted jest. Probably to dissuade the brewing anxiety in his mind from your lack of a reaction. His leg was already starting to bounce restlessly from under the table. He’s thankful that you’re unable to see that, at least. 

“‘Bad?’” 

“Yes, ‘bad.’” A beat passes. “Is it?” 

You shake your head at once, having gathered your bearings after all. A smile slowly starts to make its way onto your face. “It’s not bad. Not at all, James, this is–“ 

James doesn’t know what to do now, if he’s being honest. He wishes you could just come out and say it in his face that he was a trash painter, and that his portrait belonged in the dumps. He’d rather that than wait in agony—

“It’s so nice,” You finally manage to say, your voice dripping with fondness for him. His heart skips a beat at the sight of your smile—all sweet and pretty and lovely, so lovely. So loving. 

“Really?” James gains a smidge of his confidence back with your reactions. “You like it?” 

“Like it? I love it!” You abandon your chair, rounding the table to tackle him into a hug, planting a loud smack of a kiss on his cheek. “You made me look so pretty! Best boyfriend ever!” 

Said boyfriend feels like he could melt in your arms right now, but he returns your affections by tightening his own arms around your waist, pulling you down so that you sit on his lap. 

“‘Best boyfriend ever?’ Now that’s a title I can get behind,” He chuckles, grinning widely up at you as you did the same at him. Two birds of a feather, their love mirrored in one another’s eyes, and hearts. 

Long story short, when you show your portrait to James, he makes sure to let you know that he loves it. Absolutely, indubitably adores it. He declares that he’ll frame it and hang it up in his room. He’ll contact local historians to let them know that, “Hey, I think we’ve got another revolutionary artist in our time and it’s my girl.” 

(He also makes a few comments of how you “didn’t quite get his nose right” and how “his hair looked exaggerated in your painting” and that that was “hair-racist.” What?)

At the very end of your date night, the pair of you decide to paint another picture—a third to add to your collection—but this time around, it included the two of you, with a grubby look of a house beside you both, three other little people, some dogs here, some cats there, and then some. 

ty for reading \(￣︶￣*\)) likes, replies, n reblogs r always appreciated !! <3

[minswriting]

Hiii!! Could you write a request where reader and Aaron are sitting on the couch watching a movie, and then reader sits on his lap and Aaron is a bit flustered 🤭 and reader ends up riding him?

nsfw | mdni

as you and aaron sat on the couch watching some dumb action movie, you couldn’t help but just want to crawl into aaron’s lap and ride him. he was wearing a casual t-shirt with a pair of jeans and while you adored his suit combos, aaron in casual clothing never failed to turn you on.

so, you being you, crawled into aaron’s lap, blocking his view of the tv while giving him a smirk. “hi,” you said, putting your hands on his shoulders.

aaron’s reaction was exactly what you wanted as his cheeks grew pink. “uh- well hello,” he replied, giving you a small smile. his hands landed on your waist instinctively, holding you in place. “what brought this on?” he asked.

“i want to ride you,” you said bluntly, tilting your head slightly to the side.

aaron’s eyebrows went up in slight surprise before he lowered his head. he was clearly flustered and you absolutely soaked it in. it wasn’t often that you could get aaron hotchner to be flustered. “is that so?” he whispered, bringing his gaze back to you.

you nodded your head, biting your lip. “yes,” you replied.

which led to the both of you being unclothed as you bounced up and down aaron’s cock. his fingers were gripping your waist, guiding you onto his length. you moaned shamelessly, loving the feeling of aaron’s cock disappearing in and out of your pussy.

aaron let out low moans of pleasure, his head thrown back on the couch. “you always feel so good,” he said, licking his lips.

“so do you,” you replied breathlessly.

“mmm,” he said before thrusting his hips upwards, hitting your g-spot dead on.

“o-oh fuck,” you moaned, stopping your movements to allow aaron to take over. and of course he did.

he thrusted up into you, fucking you at a normal pace. “look at you,” he murmured into your ear, his hot breath on your skin. “one movement and you’re completely turned to mush. love when i fuck you that much?”

you nodded your head pathetically, relishing in being fucked. this as a frequent thing that happened. you’d try to take control over the situation but the moment aaron made a movement, your brain would fog up and you’d just be mush. and it was fabulous. it was like getting drunk off of aaron’s cock.

aaron’s thrusts quickened, making you whine and moan like a whore as his cock continuously hit your g-spot dead on. “oh my-oh fuck,” you moaned, gripping aaron’s shoulders.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. “gonna cum for me soon?”

you nodded your head. “so close, aaron,” you whined, closing your eyes in pleasure.

“go ahead, sweetheart,” aaron urged, moving his hips. “cum for me. cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

and so you did with a loud whine and your body shaking as you came on aaron’s length. it didn’t take long for him to follow suit, cumming inside of you without a care of the consequences.

when both of you had finished, you stayed still for a moment. until aaron looks at the tv and sees the credits. “damn it, i wanted to see what happened in the end,” he exclaimed, looking back at you with a smirk.

you had been resting your head on his shoulder but as he said that you looked up and gave him a “are you shitting me” look. “i think you can deal with it,” you exclaimed, smiling as you rolled your eyes.

“i’m sure i can,” he said as he leaned in to kiss your lips lovingly.

all and all a very great and productive date night.

[bleedingoptimism]

part one -> 📱💞🚙

part two -> 📱💞🚙

It only takes a week for Steve to show up at this door again. He knocks on the door late at night and he’s panting as if he’s run all the way there, “I had to see you” he says and it's overdramatic and kind of romantic, and Eddie barely resists the urge to jump in his arms and kiss him. Or check if there’s a filming crew and it’s raining because of how much this feels like a movie, but it’s a beautiful night outside.

“Come in,” he tells Steve, immediately turning and running around the living room, throwing away empty food containers and tidying up a bit. 

Steve watches him amused, but stands by the door, hands in his pockets, “So…” he says, “Came home today to find Chrissy, Vicky, and Robin all sitting at my dining table with their heads buried in a phone” 

Eddie looks up at that, because what the fuck? He looks at Steve confused and Steve nods, like he agrees with Eddie.

“The three of them lifted their head at the same time, it was kind of freaky honestly,” He keeps going and Eddie chuckles, curious as to where this is going, “They wanted me to see this,” Stevee finishes, lifting his phone up, the first episode of the van series playing, right at the part were Eddie first sees Steve and blushes while looking at him.

Back in reality Eddie is blushing again too, Steve saw the van series, he knows. Steve knows. “Steve…” he starts even though he has no idea what he’s gonna say.

But Steve doesn't let him try, doesn't let him think. He takes two long steps towards Eddie and kisses him, hard but short, pulls away holding Eddie’s face between his hands, and brings their forehead together,

“I didn't know,” he breathes.

Eddie shakes his head, “How could you not, I was so obvious I-”

Steve just kisses him again, once more short and sweet before pulling back, “You never said.”

Eddie wraps his hands over Steve's wrists, just holding them there, moving his thumb over Steve’s pulse slowly. He can feel how hard Steve’s heart is beating, can feel it match the rhythm of his own heart. And he wracks his brain, trying to remember if he ever did ask Steve out, or if he ever stated he liked him out loud.

He ends up laughing at the stupidity of it. Everyone knew Eddie loved Steve, except Steve, “I’m- I don't what to say. I'm sorry I-” he starts but Steve shuts him up with a kiss again, “It’s okay, I know now”

This time when they kiss, Eddie doesn't let Steve keep it short. He keeps him close, kissing him deeper, harder, longer, until he doesn't know where he begins and Steve stops.

The next day a new video gets uploaded. “Goooood morning!” Eddie says, even though it is clearly noon, from the passenger seat of his van, “Guess who is ready for their road trip!” he smiles and pulls the phone away from him, so both he and Steve are in frame. Steve is driving, eyes on the road but a huge smile on his face, Eddie’s hand is clearly visible on Steve’s thigh in the shot before Eddie moves the phone back to his face, “We’ll keep updating you guys, can’t tell you exactly where we are going cause we’d like a little privacy,” he says and wiggles his eyebrows, a soft gasp and a whispered and heated ‘Eddie!’ is heard in the background, “But we will upload videos from where we’ve been in a few weeks!” he films Steve once more, who looks at Eddie with a big sappy enamored smile on his face and then films the road for a few seconds, the world passing by the window. Finally, he twists the phone back to his face and says, “Oh! And don't worry about who’s going to drive… we’ll switch” and he winks and ends the video.

the end

☕🥐💕 coffee? by a roadhouse?

[joeburrowshaircurl]

A Lovely Night Part 2

summary: You've become friends with Joe over the past few months. Training camp is right around the corner, Joe wants to take things to the next level.

pairing: Joe Burrow x shy anxious reader

warnings: fluff

words: 1,125

a/n: here's part 2! Sorry it took so long, life has been busy. Happy reading!

You sighed with exhaustion as you set the last of the groceries on the counter in the kitchen. Apartment living had its perks, especially since it was the first place you ever had by yourself. But sometimes you wished you had someone to help with carrying the groceries so it took fewer trips. But there was no time to rest, Joe would be coming over for dinner and a movie so it was time to start prepping and cooking.

Movie night had become a thing between the two of you. Sometimes Ja'Marr and Tee would tag along with Joe but most of the time it was only Joe. Sometimes you'd watch a movie at home or if something came out at the theatre, you'd go there.

Joe had revealed his job to you and the fame that came with it and at first, it had surprised you. The way he had arrived to movies during or after the previews made sense, he hadn't wanted to be recognized. You'd never been around anyone famous until Joe, but to you he wasn't famous, he was just a regular guy who also enjoyed to watch movies.

After you put away your groceries for the next few weeks, you put some music on your bluetooth speaker and got busy making dinner from scratch which would be spaghetti and meatballs with salad. The sauce would take the longest to cook due to needing it to simmer so you started on that first. You had no Italian blood in you but you found joy in cooking and baking for others. But it was also a fear of yours that no one would like what you made, so you rarely did it. You were going out on a limb to show Joe another side of yourself, and as worried as you were, you wanted everything to be perfect.

You hadn't realized how much time had past as the sauce was simmering on the stove, the meatballs were done and cooking in the oven, and you were in the middle of kneading the pasta dough when the buzzer went off for your apartment. Knowing it was Joe, you quickly went over to the door to hit the button "Come on up." You unlocked the door for him and cracked it open, some remnants of dough and flour ending up on the inside handle, but you'd clean it off later. Your priority right now was to finish shaping the dough.

"Hey." Joe greeted as he shut the door behind him and took his shoes off. "I got you some canned mocktails to try since I know you don't drink alcohol. I'm going to try some too."

You smiled and looked over at him before you started rolling the dough out to fold and slice. "That's sweet of you, thank you." No one done that before, you were touched.

"What are we watching tonight?" Joe asked as he put the drinks in the fridge and examined the pot on the stove. "And what are you making? I'm intrigued."

"Ummm well I'm making spaghetti, meatballs and salad. The spaghetti and meatballs are from scratch. I wanted to make garlic bread from scratch too but that was going to take too much time. Oh and the sauce on the stove is from scratch too." You explained as you finished kneading and folding the dough to start shape it into spaghetti.

"And we are watching The Godfather, I know its a long movie but we don't have to watch it all tonight." You glanced over at Joe as he took it upon himself to help you by putting together the salad. It could make or break the friendship for you if he didn't like the movie.

"Sounds good to me." Joe replied as he chopped up some vegetables.

"Yeah?" You smiled as you moved to the stove to put the pasta into the pot of water that was now boiling. "Good, because I kind of centered the dinner around the movie. And thank you for making the salad, I appreciate it."

Your anxious thoughts seemed to disappear around Joe, but you still had them depending on the situation and if it was a bad day. But all in all, he had become your rock since moving to Cincinnati. You had only known each other a few months but you felt like you had known him your whole life.

"Its no problem." Joe smiled as he finished combining everything for the salad into one bowl.

"Everything's just about done, go set up the movie and i'll get everything ready." You turned the music of on the bluetooth speaker as Joe moved to the living room to set everything up. The one bedroom apartment in downtown Cincinnati had been much more affordable than your apartment back home in Boston. You even had a view of Paycor stadium, which you hadn't planned but it amused you.

You decided at the last second to combine the sauce with the pasta adn put the meatballs in their own separate bowl instead of putting everything on each of your plates incase Joe wanted seconds. Having everything on the living room table would save from having either of you from having to pause the movie.

"Alright! I hope you like it!" You smiled as you set everything onto the table and grabbed a little bit of everything before you got comfortable on the couch as the movie started.

"This is delicious, thank you for cooking." Joe said before he took another bite.

"You're welcome." You smiled, your cheeks flushing a little.

"If you were my girlfriend, I'd have a hard time staying on track during the season."

Joe had said it so simply, it had made your eyes go wide.

"I-I'd like to think I'd make foods to help you stay on track during the season." You said after your brain was able to think again.

"I'm serious. I want you to be my girlfriend. I know we haven't known each other long but it feels right. I know we will be able to get through training camp, I'll help you adjust."

First and foremost you were friends first, and you loved that. Over the past few months, feelings had grown that you had tried to ignore and kept secret. You couldn't imagine someone wanting to be with you, it had never worked out that way. But you didn't want to openly say it and ruin the moment.

"I-I agree with you." You said softly before you looked over at him and smiled, your cheeks felt like they were on fire. "So its official then."

"Its official." He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close against him. "My girl." Your heart was hammering. Surely you had to be dreaming.

[totalswag]

Drew Starkey and Actress Reader are together for a while now, they're in a place, you know celebrities meet at a party or parade or exhibition something like that. That's when they meet the Reader's ex boyfriend, they get along well, they've moved on, on good terms but Drew seems a little jealous, i see him asking little questions, but in reality he has nothing to fear since he trusts her a lot, he knows she loves him so much back. Can you do this please ?

unexpected encounter — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for the lovely request! sorry this took awhile to be posted. life has been very busy. i hope this is what you were looking for lovie.

summary drew meeting your ex for the first time and he seems to be jealous.

warnings jealous drew thats it

Golden Globes after-party is tonight.

Since you announced your relationship to the world, this will be your second public appearance together. Drew was dressed in an all-black suit to compliment her basic black dress with a bit of shine to draw attention. You like to match your outfits here and there.

This was also an excellent opportunity for Drew to meet new people in the film industry as well as some of his favorite actors and actresses. When he met some of his favorite people, it warmed your heart to see him so happy and giggly.

As usual, there was a large crowd at the after party. You were able to communicate with other actors and actresses. Your father is a well-known actor, and seeing some of his former co-stars is always pleasant.

In the middle of a conversation with Margot Robbie talking about her recent film, Barbie, you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

Margot excused herself, saying, "I'll see you later." She tells you, "Love you, sweet girl," before pulling away from the hug.

She’s amazing.

"Oh, hello, Y/N. It's been a while; how are you?" Your ex-boyfriend, Adam, came into view, astonished to find you there, but smiled at the end.

“Yes, it has been a while and I’ve been great, you?” You reply with a normal tone. “This is my boyfriend Drew, he’s also in the film industry” wrapping your arm around his, looking up at him with a soft gaze.

No matter how you ended things with Adam, you still had love for him at the end of the day.

You can feel the stress increasing in Drew’s body. He only becomes like this when he detects a threat and he wants to protect you at all cost. You’ve stated to him in the very beginning of your relationship you were in a two year relationship with Adam, also in the film industry. You ended on good terms and moved on from each other.

You have no feelings for Adam.

The only thing on your mind was why your partner was acting like this. A million thoughts race through your mind as you try to figure out why.

You can understand why he is suddenly acting this way. You would have the same reaction if you met Drew's ex for the first time. He knows you just have eyes for him.

"Nice to meet you, Drew," he adds confidently, extending his hand.

"Adam," he said, firmly shaking his hand. "You play Rafe Cameron on the Outer Banks, correct? "My cousin loves you," he says with a chuckle.

Drew was taken back by the chuckle from Adams mouth, “Yeah I play him in the show and I appreciate it, you can tell them that I said thank you” his response was calm.

The two begin conversing, getting to know one other. You continue to stand beside the two grown men, even joining in on the conversation. Drew's questions or comments drew your attention.

Adam nods, turning his body towards you, “Congrats on your movie by the way, you did amazing,” talking about your newest movie you starred in with Sydnee Sweeny.

“Thank you Adam, filming that movie was a hassle but a lot of fun all together” you kept your arms around Drew’s arm the whole time.

Eventually, you realized it was time to leave Adam and finish your night with Drew. The night has just begun, and there is food calling your name.

"It was nice to see you, but it appears that we should get going; I hope you have a good rest of your night, Adam," Drew said, indicating between Drew and you. 

"Of course, yes, enjoy the rest of your night" Adam claps his hands together before shaking Drew's hand and hugging you.

By the end of the night, Drew and you are sitting down at the table with a few of your friends while music plays from the band on stage.

Drew and you were facing each other, your hand fiddling with his gold chain while he questioned you about Adam.

"Baby, you understand how much I love you and value our relationship. I'm sorry if I was acting like a dosh," Drew rambles on, but you cut him off by kissing him to silence him.

"You weren't acting like a dosh; you were professional the entire time, and I understand why you were the way you were," you said, placing your palm on top of his and softly pressing your thumb on his hand.

"I actually love you a lot more," he says, smiling.

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[ericshoney]

Movie Star ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You have a movie night with Nick, Matt and Chris. You all decide to watch a horror, one the guys didn't know you acted in when you were younger.

Warnings: swearing, horror movie stuff, platonic pet names

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You finally had a free weekend so you planned on spending time with your three best friends. You along with the triplets had grown up together and whilst they went on and had their YouTube career, you were an actress. You had started acting at an early age, having a few small roles before you got into some bigger movies and TV shows.

You had arrived at their house, planning on sleeping over and stuff too. When you walked in, you saw Nick and Matt in the kitchen, whilst Chris was on the sofa scrolling through the TV.

"Hey guys." You called, kicking your shoes off.

"Hey kid!" Chris replied first, jumping up to greet you.

Nick and Matt both waved and you saw they had made bowls of popcorn and there was some drinks too.

"Movie night?" You questioned.

"Yeah." Matt replied simply.

You nodded and went to sit down with Chris, who showed you some videos on his phone, as Nick and Matt came over with the drinks and popcorn.

"Did you find one?" Nick asked as he sat next to you.

"Oh yeah. It's an old horror, not like really old, but maybe ten years old or something." Chris answered.

"Any horror is fine with me." Matt said, settling down.

You smiled to yourself once you saw the title. The movie was one of your first acting roles. The guys didn’t know that your character was going to be killed.

You all sat quietly watching the movie, the guys jumping slightly as Nick screamed. You then smiled as your character came on, which made Matt pause the movie.

“That’s you!” He shouted.

“Yeah that’s me at ten years old.” You said with a giggle.

“The fuck kid! You never said you were in this movie!” Chris shouted.

“You didn’t ask. Plus it’s kinda old and one of my first acting roles.” You replied.

“Let’s watch it!” Nick called.

You laughed as Matt continued the movie. You watched their faces knowing the killer of the scene was about to kill your character.

“Run tiny Y/N!” Nick shouted at the screen making you laugh.

Chris shouted as your character was killed, blood all over the place, Matt jumped slightly as Nick hid his face in a pillow.

You all continued watching the movie till the end, the guys still not over the fact you were in it and your character was killed early on in the movie.

“That was…” Matt started.

“Insane!” Nick finished.

“Yeah, I’m just glad it was a movie and not real. That was brutal.” Chris added.

You giggled as they all suddenly hugged you. You hugged them back smiling but felt confused.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

“Your safe with us. Next movie your in is not a horror. Don’t make us see you in that situation again.” Matt answered.

“Okay.” You said with a laugh.

“I need to watch a Disney movie now to get that out my head.” Chris said making all of you burst out laughing.

[anjee0]

Coincidence

Female!reader x Eminem (Feel free to put in your own oc insert as well)

Description - 20 years after Y/n and Marshall break up, they run into each other again. Coincidence?

Warnings - Explicit language, smut, derogatory language (kind of), creampie?? (I'm not too sure)

“And cut!” The director called out.

Y/n let out a quick sigh of relief as the scene ended. Her assistant immediately came over to put a robe over her. She had just finished a sex scene for the movie she was working in called 8 mile. Y/n looked over at Marshall who she had just done the scene with and gave him a wink.

“Alright, lunch break everyone!” The director said as he got out of his seat.

Y/n and Marshall had a secret relationship that no one knew about. Since the recording of the movie, they grew closer together and eventually started to date. They agreed to keep it private, no one needed to know about it, especially the media.

Y/n went to her trailer to take a little break. She decided to eat her lunch there just to have a little quiet. She got her lunch out and took a bite out of her sandwich. Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“Marshall.” The voice said.

Y/n smiled to herself softly. “Come in.”

Marshall unlocked the door and entered. He locked the door behind him and sat on the couch with Y/n. 

“You alright?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just wanted some quiet.” Y/n replied.

“Oh. I can leave-”

“No, it's fine. I want you to stay.”

Marshall smiled before he kissed his teeth. “I was wondering if after tonight I can take you out somewhere?”

“That sounds nice. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want babe.”

“How about we head to my place? We can have a movie night, have some fun?”

“Yeah I like that.” He smirked before looking down at Y/n's robe. “You're not hot in that?”

“Are you tryna make me take it off?”

“Nah, I was just asking. But I wouldn't mind if you did.”

Y/n playfully flipped Marshall off before she took another bite of her sandwich. She fanned her face and took a deep breath out.

“Are you getting hot?” Marshall teased.

“No. Well, a bit. It's only warm.”

“Your face is heating up and you're sweaty, babe. You look like a shiny tomato.”

“Eugh, don't say that.”

Marshall chuckled. “Sorry babe. But you could just take it off-”

“I would but can you hold back?”

“Sure.”

“Pfft, yeah right.”

“I totally could. Why don't we put it to the test?”

“How dumb do you think I am?”

“Not that dumb, maybe a bit?” He lied, trying to get a reaction out of her.

Y/n gasped in a dramatic manner playfully as she put her hand to her chest. She took a spare script from the table nearby and smacked Marshall on the head with it.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. “What the hell is your problem?”

Y/n cackled and threw her head back. “You got what you deserved!”

“You are so-”

“Pretty? Smart? The most perfect girlfriend ever?” Y/n asked teasingly in a slightly more high pitched voice as she batted her eyelashes playfully.

“Annoying. You’re annoying.”

“Sure I am.” 

Y/n turned on the fan nearby to the highest setting. She hated that she still felt hot with the strong wind blowing in her face.

“I’m just saying, you could take it off. I’m getting cold” Marshall said.

Y/n sighed and turned off the fan, accepting her defeat. She slowly undid the rope holding the robe together as it became free of its knot. Y/n ran her hands down the inner parts of the robe before slowly sliding it off. Her breath hitched as it fell off her shoulders, revealing the lacy, black lingerie she had on underneath. Marshall's eyes couldn't help but linger at the sight of her as his pupils wandered through every inch of her body, admiring her curves.

“See, it wasn't that hard.” Marshall said as he took a slice of cucumber out from Y/n’s lunchbox.

Y/n hummed in agreement before leaning against Marshall’s side and rubbing her cheek against his arm. He put his arm around and fiddled with her bra strap. They both looked at each other as Marshall slightly leaned in. His lips brushed against hers, ever so teasing her. He placed a small kiss on the corner of her lips before pulling away.

“Mm, babe.” Y/n whined.

“What?” Marshall asked.

“That wasn't a kiss.”

“No, I still kissed you.”

“Barely.”

Marshall chuckled and shook his head. “How can you say that I can't hold myself back when you're so needy?”

“It's different.”

“How so?”

“It just is. I just want my kiss.” Y/n whined.

Marshall hated how he secretly loved the way Y/n would whine for him. It made him crazy for her. He tried to not give in but completely lost it when she pouted.

He placed a soft and tender kiss on her lips, tasting her strawberry lip gloss against his tongue. They both pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. He traced his hand around the silhouette of Y/n's body, his fingertips grazing against her curves and soft skin. She shivered under his contact as she looked into his eyes.

Marshall leaned in for another kiss, this time, there was more passion behind it. He placed his hand behind Y/n's neck and pulled her closer into a bruising kiss, desperate for more.

She played with the hem of his shirt before slowly taking it off and throwing it on the floor. He snapped the elastic of Y/n's bra before his fingers travelled down to her back to undo it. He pulled it off and threw it away onto the floor.  

He laid her down on the sofa as he started kissing down her jaw to her neck. His teeth grazed against her collarbone as he slowly sucked on it and moved his tongue along it. Marshall buried his face into her neck and kissed all over it whilst rubbing his half-hard dick against Y/n's thigh.

Y/n used her feet to help Marshall slide off his joggers, leaving him in his boxers only. His kisses moved from her neck down to her chest. He placed his hand on her neck and the other on her breast. His kisses were painfully slow and teasing, Y/n could feel Marshall smirking against her chest as she begged for him to fast.

He took the hand from her neck and placed it on the other breast. He massaged them carefully as he sucked Y/n's tits. She moaned at the feeling of Marshall's teeth grazing her nipple as his tongue sucked hard.

“Marshall, please. I need you.” Y/n whispered. 

Marshall moved his lips away from her tits, the saliva making his lips glisten. Y/n put her legs around his waist and moved her hips up. Marshall took the open opportunity to play with the hem of her panties as he held her hip for stability. He leaned down and used his teeth to pull the underwear down and take it off. Y/n exhaled in anticipation as she felt her core heating up.

Marshall took his boxers off, letting his now fully hard cock springing free. He teased her as he rubbed his finger against the entrance of her heat, but not inserting it. Marshall groaned at how wet she was.

“So fucking wet. Just for me.”

With Y/n's last begging whine, he inserted himself into her. Marshall's dick moved smoothly against Y/n's soft and velvety walls. Her cunt immediately clenched around his dick.

“So fucking needy. But I love that. It's hot.”

He moved his hand back to Y/n's neck whilst the other one retreated to under her thigh. Within moments, he started to move his hips. The sounds of their skin slowly slapping against each other combined with their noises of pleasure and breathy moans bought a sultry tension in the air. The room became hot and stuffy as a thin coat of sweat covered their face, making their cheeks stained pink under the dim lighting. They could both feel the heat between them starting to rise as Marshall continued to roll his hips into her.

As he started to pick up the pace, each thrust rippled throughout Y/n's body to every nerve ending. Her eyes were met with Marshall's. His eyes were dark and filled with desire to the brim. Each roll igniting Y/n with excitement and a sultry tension. The creeks of the sofa meshed with their breathy moans and rhythmic beat of every thrust. Y/n could feel her core burning up with each powerful push. She could feel Marshall's hot breath gliding along her face as he panted to urge himself to go faster.

“Gosh, you're so fucking tight, Y/n.”

Marshall started thrusting himself into Y/n with more energy, fully hitting her cervix in a painful pleasure. The seductive tension burned into their bodies as their moans and groans became more ragged and quick. Y/n licked her lips, which had been stripped from the taste of strawberries but now salty from sweating. Y/n could feel her climax inching closer every second. 

“Marshall, I'm gonna come.” She said, barley above a whisper.

“Me too baby. I'm so close.”

The final thrusts started to lack the energy from before as they became sloppier. The alluring atmosphere was still present within the room however. Y/n's core felt like a star, ready to burst any second. She came with a cry of pleasure as she felt a warmth of relief as his juices spilled out of her. With one final thrust into Y/n, Marshall came too. His essence came out in thick hot spurts as he released them into Y/n. It also began trailing down her thighs, making it glisten in the dim light. He collapsed on top of her, a crushing weight she didn't mind. 

Y/n played with Marshall's hair and rubbed her hand up and down his back slowly. She smiled at the feeling of the low vibration from him humming into her neck. They stayed like that for a minute or two before getting up to get cleaned up.

“I just think that's what's best for us.” Marshall groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So you're just gonna throw our relationship away because a couple pictures of us got leaked?” Y/n asked in distress.

“Not just a couple! Lots! Everyone knows about us!” 

“Okay and? Why do we have to break up then?”

“Because this isn't good for my reputation.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Y/n could feel her eyes welling up with tears as an itchy sensation rose to the back of her throat. “You're worried about your reputation? How am I bad for your reputation?”

“It's going to ruin my public image. Those pictures don't go with my persona. We don't work!”

“That is the dumbest fucking excuse ever! We've been working for nearly a year!”

Y/n couldn't hold it in anymore. Bitter tears of frustration and sadness rolled down her cheeks. 10 months. They were having a strong relationship built on security and trust going on for 10 months, nearly a year— but now Marshall wanted to let go of it. Pictures of them taking a stroll in the park and kissing and hugging each other were taken by paparazzi and had gotten leaked. The next day, they were plastered all over the tabloids.

“I'm sorry. But this is what's best for us.” Marshall said in a softer tone now.

“Marshall, you need to understand that us being together isn't going to change anything. You'll still be you.” Y/n trembled.

He didn't respond. He just looked down miserably with a frown on his face as he crossed his arms sternly. Y/n could feel her heart shattering into a million pieces as she watched her boyfriend's stone cold expression. He couldn't even look her in the eyes.

“Fine. Have it your way. Have a great life Marshall.” Y/n whispered harshly as she walked out the door, bumping his shoulder.

Y/n stared at the platter of pastries organised under the clear glass. The warm yellow light from the heating made a wash of gold painted over the flaky and tasty treats. Y/n was staying at a hotel for a movie shoot and she decided to get a small snack in the middle of the night. She was stuck between the pain au chocolat and the croissant. Y/n wanted to be quick as she didn't look her best dressed in her sweatpants and an overly baggy shirt with a low ponytail to top it off.

“Hi there, how can I help?” The lady behind the counter asked.

“I'll just take one pain au chocolat and croissant to go please.” Y/n responded

“Of course.” The lady used the tongs to bag the golden pastries in a paper brown bag with the hotel's logo painted on it. “That will be $10.50.”

Y/n wasn't too shocked with the prices— it was an expensive hotel after all. But maybe she was a little baffled. Although she had a high net worth, she hated spending her money on unnecessary things. As reached for her card to pay, she hesitated.

“You know what, it's fine-” She began to say only to get cut off.

“I'll pay for her.” A male voice said from behind.

Y/n turned to see who this mystery man was. Her mouth fell slightly agape as her eyes met with Marshall's blue ones. She subtly pinched her hand to make sure she was dreaming— she wasn't.

“Marshall?” She asked, confusion lacing her voice.

Marshall. Marshall Mathers. The man she had dated for 10 months 20 years ago was standing in front of her. Y/n had seen recent pictures of him on social media, she did admit he looked hot, but when she was seeing him in person, he looked so much better. His overly bleached hair was now replaced with his natural brunette hair now. It definitely bought out his majestic blue eyes more.

“Y/n.” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned over a place his card over the machine. When he heard the sound of approval and the green checkmark, he took the bag from the lady and handed it to Y/n.

“Do you wanna talk?” Marshall asked.

“Sure.” Y/n responded. She was glad her acting skills could help her mask the nervousness in her voice.

“Alright, let's head to my room.” 

Every cell in her body screamed at her to say no and walk away. Her brain begged for her to turn down the offer and go back to her room. She could feel her heart thumping out of her chest, every beat telling her no.

“Sure, why not?”

She internally slapped herself for agreeing without a single thought. Y/n tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Her legs walked after Marshall's footsteps as they got in the lift and went up to his room. 

She was quite shocked to see how clean it was. She remembered how his room and recording studio back at his mansion would be messy at times. Marshall offered Y/n a seat on the bed as she looked around, examining it. Y/n felt a dip in the bed as Marshall sat next to her, leaving some space between them. 

“It’s been ages since we’ve last seen each other,” he said. “How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been doing good. Acting’s working well. I’m guessing you’re doing good too?” Y/n responded.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing great.”

“How’s Hailie and the kids?”

“They’re doing great. Hailie sometimes asks about you.”

Y/n smiled. Distant memories of her babysitting little Hailie when Marshall was out at concerts came to her mind. She remembered how Marshall only trusted Y/n with Hailie.

“I miss her. She’s growing up quickly, huh?”

“Yeah. So what you doing at this hotel?” Marshall asked.

“Just having a movie being shot nearby. You?”

“Had a concert last night. Feeling absolutely drained.”

Y/n chuckled slightly at his tone. “How’d you see me in the lobby?”

“I was just getting a drink then I saw you. Had to double check at first to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Then I heard you saying that you didn’t want to get the pastries for $10, that’s when I knew it was you. You’re still the same, huh?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to spend $10 on that. And, uh, thanks for paying. You didn’t have to do that. Guess you haven’t changed either.”

Marshall chuckled, feeling quite glad that Y/n still had the same sense of humour. “So, have you been with anyone since we uh, broke up?” he asked.

“Had a few flings. Nothing too serious. Currently single as of now. You?” Y/n asked.

“Same here. I mean, I remarried Kim, but that didn’t work out.”

A long silence hung in the air, that brought a thick, awkward tension along with it too. So quiet that Y/n could hear her heartbeat speeding up rapidly. That awkward tension continued to grow, only for it to be warped into something else. She couldn’t feel awkwardness anymore, something else was lingering in the air that she couldn’t quite put her tongue on. Y/n could feel the air getting tighter as she felt herself slowly leaning forward.

When she realised Marshall was leaning forward too, she knew what was going to happen next. Y/n could feel her whole body begging for her to stop and pull away, to make an excuse and leave. But as the space between her and Marshall began to shrink, she knew it was too late to stop herself. There was no going back now. 

Y/n’s lips met with Marshall’s, their collision making everything around her irrelevant, her only focus was him. The kiss was hungry and utterly desperate, something she didn’t know she needed. Her hand reached to the back of his head and pulled him closer, almost by instinct. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she felt his hands being placed on her hips with a sturdy grip. They pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, Y/n wasn’t sure what she was looking for but she could see that darkening desire reaching Marshall’s eyes— the one she was so used to seeing. Y/n shuddered as his hand went to the back of her neck and slowly laid her down on the bed.

“Do you want this?” Marshall asked huskily, his voice making Y/n feeling a pulse of arousal travel through her body.

This time, every part of her body said yes. Begged for her to accept his offer. She needed this. “Yes. I need this.”

Marshall groaned at her response, feeling something stirring up within him. He placed soft kisses on her neck, taking in the scent of Y/n’s intoxicating perfume. His nose brushed against the pure softness on her skin, nothing had changed. Marshall’s kisses soon became bruising and rough as he left love bites scattered around her neck. It brought him back to their relationship, he whimpered at the thought.

His fingers immediately played with the hem of Y/n’s shirt as he pulled it over her and tossed it on the floor. Marshall stopped to gaze in awe at her body. She still looked perfect and absolutely ethereal. He licked his lips as his eyes landed on the dark red bra she was wearing topped off with some sexy lace. He bit his lower lip as his thumbs made small circles around her hips. 

“Fuck Y/n. You're so hot.” He groaned.

Y/n pulled off Marshall's shirt and she immediately couldn't take her eyes off him. He was more toned than the last time she saw him and his muscles were larger now. He went back to kissing her, capturing her lips in a sultry manner as she whined for more.

“Still whiny too, huh? Guess some things never really change.” Marshall teased.

The next moment was a blur as clothes came off their body's and became discarded on the floor. Y/n shivered as her bare body came into contact with Marshall's. His skin felt familiar and comfortable as she wrapped his legs around his waist.

“All those flings you had. Did they all fuck you?” Marshall asked.

Y/n piqued in confusion at the random question. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I want an answer Y/n. Did they fuck you?” His tone was dominating like a spell that Y/n had easily fallen under. She could feel her submissive side of her coming out.

“Yes. They did.”

“Were their cocks bigger than mine?”

“No.” She was being truthful.

“Did they fuck you as good as me?”

“No.” Again, being truthful.

“Did they make you scream and cum like how I made you scream and cum? Did they fuck you so well and hard that you couldn't walk for ages?”

“No. Only you've done that.”

“Good. Thank you for telling the truth.”

Marshall cupped her core and received a whiny moan from her. She was already soaking, which made him give her a devious smirk.

“So fucking wet already.” He groaned. “Not surprised.”

“Marshall, please. You're taking too long.” Y/n begged.

She expected his thick cock to slide into her but instead he slid one of his fingers instead. Y/n could feel her breath hitch. 

“You didn't really think I'd give you my cock straight away, right?”

Before she could react or even utter a word, he slid another finger into her soaking walls. She gasped loudly at the pleasurable surprise. Not even a second later, he added a third finger in making her arch her back and moan at the sensation. Immediately, her cunt clenched around his fingers. Embarrassment radiated off Y/n. She hated the way her body had betrayed her.

“Not even my cock in you and you're already getting tight around me. You fucking whore. You're just a needy slut.” Marshall spat.

If it was another man, Y/n would've pushed him off and spat in his face. But something about Marshall made it acceptable. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded throaty and gruff. Or maybe it was the way he looked right into her eyes with no shame. Either way, it made her even more turned on for him.

Without warning, his fingers started moving. It wasn't as good as his cock, but it was better than the other guys Y/n had been with. Her moans blended perfectly with the sound of his fingers moving inside her velvety walls at a standard pace.

Marshall pulled his fingers out that were glistening like a lustrous light. He placed his wet fingers on Y/n's lips and she didn't waste a second. She immediately started sucking on his fingers, catching a taste of her. She watched as Marshall groaned in pleasure watching her with his blue eyes, never taking them off her.

His free hand moved to Y/n's nipples, he twisted and pinched it, making her cry out Marshall's name. He slowly massaged her breath, matching the pace 

“Marshall. I need you. I need you in me.” Y/n whispered as he took his fingers out her mouth.

“Anything for you.” He moaned.

He slipped his hard dick into Y/n's delicate walls. She gasped loudly and arched her back. It had been ages since she felt Marshall’s cock in her, and gosh, did she need it. He hadn't even started moving and she was already a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Marshall. Please move.” Y/n begged.

“I love it when you do that. Fuck, how can I say no to you, huh?”

He didn't waste a second as he began rolling his hips into Y/n at a steady pace. As the heat in her cunt started to rise, so did the temperature in the room. A fine layer of sweat glazed their skin, making it shine in the warm lighting. Y/n panted with each thrust, each push travelled through her body and sent a wave of content all over. Marshall’s dick glided smoothly against her cushiony walls. He could feel a rapid flow of lust taking over him with each roll. The vulnerability and submissiveness in Y/n’s eyes made him groan and quicken his pace. Something about seeing her underneath him and spread out all from him made him go wild.

As his speed started to increase, each thrust became striking with more energy and passion. The sounds of the skin slapping against each other started to rise against the sounds of their airy moans and gentle whimpers. The sexual tension between them started to grow. Marshall whispered sweet nothings into Y/n's ear, his gentle murmur tickling the fine fibres of hair on her ear. His thrusts increased to fiery speed, sending shared rolls of enjoyment between the two. A cloud of pure desire and lust rained over Marshall's head and caused him to produce absolute burning thrusts. 

His momentum started to slow down as the energy began to leave his body. Each thrust was sloppy and slow. Y/n placed her hands on Marshall's hips firmly to help him move a bit more quicker. His dick hit her walls with a mounting pressure that felt so desirable and satisfying. Their climaxes were inching closer with each roll. Y/n's hands trailed down to Marshall's back as she dug her nails into it. The blazing commotion in her cunt rose, as her moans and pants became messy, waiting for the climax.

The last thrusts were quick and jagged, before they both came at the same time. A pleasurable warmth grew between their legs. Hot and thick gushes of Marshall's essence squirted into Y/n, making her squirm. He collapsed on top of her immediately. Y/n wrapped her arms around Marshall and embraced him. When he pulled out, he watched as his juices spilled out of Y/n's core. Marshall licked his lips and kissed Y/n's cheek— salty from sweat.

“You did great.” He praised Y/n.

She responded with a small hum of thanks before she got up and sat on the edge of the bed. “I'm gonna take a shower.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“I'm fine.”

Marshall nodded understandably. “Okay, I'll just change the sheets then.”

Y/n hopped into the shower. The hit water glided down her body as the steam it produced engulfed her. She closed her eyes and stood under the shower head, trying to process what had just happened. She'd seen her ex she hadn't seen in 20 years and had sex with him. Y/n exhaled slightly as she reached for the body wash to clean herself.

After she had showered and dried herself up, she picked up her clothes from the floor and put them back on. She couldn't wait to get to her room and immediately change it out for something that didn't stink.

“Where are you going?” Marshall asked as he finished fitting the clean duvet cover and bedsheet.

“To my room.” Y/n replied in a monotonous tone.

“Why not stay here?”

“I thought I was just a ‘fucking whore’ and a ‘needy slut’, right Marshall?”

“Hey, I didn't mean any of that. It was in the heat of the moment. Sit next to me. I wanna talk.” He patted the empty space next to him.

Y/n sat on the edge of the bed, next to him and waited eagerly for what he had to say.

“Y/n, I always think about that night we broke up. And every time I do, all I feel is regret. I always wonder what would’ve happened if we didn't break up.”

“I always wonder that too, Marshall.” She responded softly.

“This'll make me sound like the needy one but, fuck it. I miss you. I need you in my life.”

“Do you miss me or the sex?”

“I miss everything. I miss your smile, your laugh, your voice, your kindness, your love, your everything. You're the only girl I've ever truly loved.” He confessed.

Y/n could tell he was telling the truth, which made her heart flutter like multiple cocoons of butterflies opened up in her chest. She knew that deep down inside of her, she wanted Marshall back. Y/n cupped his face and smiled at him softly.

“Do you wanna start over again?” She asked.

“I do. But only if that's fine with you and I don't want you to feel forced into doing this.”

“I want to do this. I don't feel forced. I- I've missed you too.”

Marshall smiled at her before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Okay, you can get changed out of those clothes and wear some of mine. I'm gonna take a shower.”

As Marshall went to the bathroom to shower, Y/n took her clothes off and put them in the laundry basket for the dirty clothes. She looked through Marshall's wardrobe and settled on a baggy t-shirt and some shorts.

When he came out of the shower, he chuckled at how ridiculously cute Y/n looked. 

“What? You told me to put on your clothes.” Y/n said.

“I know. It looks cute.”

They eventually got into bed as they wrapped their arms and legs around each other, putting themselves in an embrace full of love and warmth.

“Goodnight Marshall.”

“Goodnight Y/n.”

[pinguwrites]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter One

series masterlist. next chapter

𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: I promise it'll get more exciting later lol

The elevator dinged, and your heart raced. It was dark out, and so the lobby was dimmed — that blue hue that came right before the sun’s rising. After peeking a small look to the side, you quickly went back to the newspaper you were reading, as if you hadn’t noticed the sound at all. Though you didn’t need to hear or see to know who it was. No one else in Sama Place got up this early, except perhaps for you. It was you and Francis Mosses, every day alone at five in the morning. Perfect, wasn’t it?

“Mornin’,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. It was white, with the words “MILKMAN” etched onto the front. If anything, that added detail made him look even more handsome — uniformed, well-put-together, with just a hint of authority. Everything you liked. 

“Good morning, Francis,” you greeted, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. Placing the newspaper aside, you focused your attention on him, but when he approached you, he took it between his fingers and flipped to the page you were at. 

“Crossword? It’s a bit early for that,” he mused, eyeing all the columns and rows you filled in. It was a hard one, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Besides, what else were you supposed to do, stare at the wall waiting to say ‘hi’ to the next person who came by?

“I like puzzles, they get me thinking . . . you know, you should do something like this, too.” Francis furrowed his eyebrows, just slightly. “Not puzzles, necessarily. But a hobby.”

It just occurred to you at this very moment that he probably did have a hobby, but as someone who was just a doorwoman, you weren't privy to that information.

“I’m sure you do,” you added with a chuckle. “It’s only that I never see you doing anything but work. You’re so tired all the time. How much effort does being a milkman really require?”

He bit his lower lip. “More than you think. I used to get up at one.”

The idea that whatever company he was working for forced him to do this made you upset. Francis deserved nothing but freedom and long vacations and waking up to brunch, not whatever coffee he drank in the morning to get himself going. 

“One?” you repeated, absolutely stunned. “Well, I’m glad you managed to change your shift. Most bosses I know aren’t flexible with that sort of stuff.”

“I was actually doing fine with my original hours. I just changed them because . . .”

“Because what?”

He thought for a moment, his cheeks dusted pink. “Wanted to enjoy the world a little. Can’t very well do that if you have to sleep at seven in the afternoon.” He paused. “I have to go, I’ll see you later tonight, ma’am.”

“Alright. Have a nice day, sir.”

You watched as he left, a longing gaze. In your mind, you imagined spending time with him, whether it be to see a movie or just walk around the city. You found that highly unlikely, though. Mostly because you could never bring yourself to ask him, and never thought he would ever ask you. 

+++

“Really?” you said, a little disappointed. “I’d hate to see you go.”

Dr. William Afton shrugged, a grin across his lips. “I mean, it’s quite the modern idea, don’t you think? I think there ought to be more family restaurants out there. And with my engineering background, I think I’m just the right man to create something fun for children.”

“Your idea sounds like a science fiction novel,” you admitted, “but I like it. What does Mia think?”

“Oh, I had to convince her a little, but in the end, she’ll do as I say. Besides, we’re not moving very far. Just closer to the suburbs.”

You nodded. “I’ll miss you. Make sure to stop by again when you can.”

He agreed and went on his way to finish moving the rest of his belongings to his car. It was silly to want him to stay, but that was how it felt here. Everyone knew everyone, it was like a family. You’d made more friends here than you ever did before. Change wasn’t something you enjoyed.

+++

The day had passed by quickly. You took your lunch break and then went straight back to work. You made a few calls to make sure things were in order. If anything was wrong with the plumbing or if the wallpaper had chipped — things like that — it was your responsibility to fix it. Taking calls for potential renters, being in general a polite and pleasant person, it all came with your job. 

It was unusual for a woman to hold this kind of position. Women barely worked at all. Most were housewives or teachers or secretaries. The fact that you even got this job at all was a miracle. And the fact that the people in this building were so pleasant was a blessing.

After your father died you thought everything was over. He left you a house, a small, one-story building with a nice lawn and a small backyard. It was closed off from the rest of the street, the way he liked it. Away from others, with his own peace. You supposed that trait passed down to you. Other than a simple conversation, you preferred to be by yourself rather than out with a large group of friends, partying at risqué clubs. Besides, even if you liked that kind of stuff, your father would never have approved. 

You were dependent on him, right till the very end. Though you graduated from college, you didn’t know how to get a loan from a bank, drive a car, or even do your taxes. The easiest thing to do was to find a husband, but it was just so difficult. When you saw that sign outside of Sama saying ‘HIRING NOW’ you knew that was where you had to go. A new start. New opportunity. For the first time, you could make your own money, support yourself, and live the life you want.

You sighed, thinking about everything as you leaned back in your chair. The weather was hot today, so you set the fan beside your desk on. It was blowing through your hair, the coolness brushing against your skin with relief. It made your skirt rumple at the ends, but whenever it did that you just straightened it out, pulling it over your knees once more. 

“Hey,” a voice said behind you. 

Startled, you sat up straight, only to realize it was just Anastacha, the girl from the second floor. She lived with her mom, who was a cook at a restaurant, but apparently trying to make it as a chef. She had pigtails in her hair like always and was wearing a simple plaid dress. 

“You scared me,” you said, tone both playful and scolding. “Don’t do that again.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, but she didn’t seem very sorry. “I need help with my homework. Mom says you had a good education, and that if I ever needed help I could just come to you.”

You smiled warmly. “Sure. Pull up that chair over there, and I’ll see what I can do.”

You looked through the folder. It was just basic algebra, nothing too difficult. You remembered doing this in middle school. For the next ten minutes, you both read through each problem and solved it together. She had a lot of questions — annoying ones — but it was fine. She was just a kid, and you were happy to help.

Just as you were explaining the last part to her, the front door opened. 

It was Francis. 

Distracted, you glanced up and down his body. Was it odd that you found him the most beautiful man ever? His long, Roman nose, and his smooth, pale skin. The way the veins in his hands flexed every time he moved them, the light blue dress shirt that hugged his slim, muscled arms, and that dark, tousled hair, widow’s peak dipped in the middle of his forehead.

He passed by you with a short nod. It almost hurt that he didn’t bother to stay longer, but you could see the bags under his eyes and his sluggish movements. He was tired. And to be fair, so were you.

When the elevator door closed, Anastacha exclaimed, “Oh, he likes you!”

“Shh!” You didn’t need people hearing that. “He does not. Do you want to finish this or not?”

“He does,” she insisted with a giggle. “You saw the way he looked at you?”

“You can’t determine things based on a single look.”

“Yes, I can. Mr. Mosses is nice, but he kind of just ignores everyone. He doesn’t do that with you.”

The thought that Francis may like you was an intoxicating one. He was just a man, one that you never exchanged many words with, yet he managed to make you feel all sorts of ways. Was it possible that Anastacha was right? That he really did like you?

“I bet you like him, too.”

You glared at her. You did not need Anastacha spreading rumors about how you were in love with the milkman, however true that may be.

“No, I don’t. Focus.” You pointed the pencil back at her homework. “Now, in order to find x, you have to subtract . . . . . .”

Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

[justnatoka]

Deliver me from darkness

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: This piece is very special to my heart. This is for everyone who felt self-hatred before or like they didn’t deserve to be loved (me included). Of course, these issues are not so easy to solve, but I hope this little thing can make at least a few people feel better. Please, if you know someone who has these thought, show them kindness, a few caring words really can go a long way.

Word count: ~3.2k

Warning: depressive thoughts, feelings of self-hatred, of not being enough, self-isolation, angst with a happy ending

Prompt: “Nobody’s seen you in days.”

Song recommendation: In The Androgynous Dark by Brambles (I know it doesn't fit the vibe of the movie, but it's what I was listening to while writing.)

The fluttering of wings infiltrated the quiet of your bedroom. A slight push, and your windows slowly opened, bringing with them the scent of the warm summer night. Your heavy curtains that kept the room dark for the last couple of days got caught in the breeze, and in the small gap between them a sliver of moonlight stretched across your floor. It was soon blocked out, however, as a familiar figure stepped into the room, pausing for a second as he noticed the lump of blankets on the bed. When all he could hear was soft breathing, he made his way over there, his footsteps echoing loudly in the stillness.

You knew who he was the second he entered, the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to him like a second skin. And as you felt the bed dip behind you and a hand on your shoulder above all the layers, you could faintly make out a scent underneath, one that was all him, so indescribably David.

“Nobody’s seen you in days, darling. We were starting to get worried. I came to check on you.” He spoke with such tenderness, as if afraid that you would shatter any second. It was a tone so uncharacteristic of him, but it made your chest ache with longing. When you didn’t answer, he continued. “Can you say something? Just so I know you’re alright?”

You wanted to scoff at that. You were obviously not alright, and he could clearly see that as well.

“Why did you come here, David?” Your voice sounded rough and unfamiliar, not having been used in a while, and although you couldn’t see it, his eyebrows furrowed in concern at the sound.

“Like I said, we were worried. You didn’t come to meet us on the boardwalk, and none of us heard from you in a while. We even went to ask Michael if he knew anything.”

As he was explaining, you slowly tuned him out, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to listen to his concern. It only made you feel more miserable. When he stopped, you spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you whispered. Sensing his confusion you added, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

David’s heart clenched at how pathetic you sounded, and it only made him more sure of himself.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, and neither are they.”

You heard whispering as more people stepped in through your window. They were probably waiting outside for a sign to come in, not wanting to overwhelm you all at once. The thought caused your chest to ache even more.

“We won’t let you suffer alone, sugar,” Marko declared.

“We’re here to take care of you, dollface,” Paul added.

“Whatever you need,” Dwayne finished.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you finally made a move, slowly turning over and looking at them. Their heart broke when they took in you appearance. You hair was a mess, your skin pale and tired, your eyes puffy and red from crying, fresh tears running down your cheeks. You looked sad and exhausted, and all they wanted was to take the pain away from you, to see your sunny smile once again.

Paul was the first to move. “Oh, honey,” he sighed as he came over, scooping you up and into his lap, enveloping you in his arms. You sniffled as you buried your face into his chest. You felt more hands on you, Marko draping himself over you from the other side, and Dwayne sneaking his arms around all three of you. Not feeling like he had any space left in the group hug, David opted to link his fingers with yours, holding your hand and caressing your knuckles gently.

Feeling all this love around you, you broke down. This time, crying your heart out actually felt cathartic, not full of bitterness and sorrow like the past few days. As if their mere presence, the smallest sign that they cared, that someone cared at all opened the floodgates and washed away all the miserable thoughts you bombarded yourself with while no one was watching.

Their love was overwhelming. It’s what drove you to lock yourself away in a dark moment, the small voice in your head slowly poisoning your mind with doubt. Not feeling like you deserved any of it, your thoughts spiraled, constantly questioning why they chose you, hurling insult after insult towards yourself until you felt like breaking. After a while, there was just numbness, having tired yourself out with trying to withstand the waves of self-hate. But it was also their love that drove the darkness away, and as your sobs quietened down, so did the small voice in the back of your head. When you lifted your head, your eyes meeting David’s over the limbs and shoulders, all you saw was affection and reassurance, and after a long few days, you finally started to feel like you were going to be alright.

When they felt you shift, the boys unwrapped themselves from around you. Your heart swelled as you saw the tear tracks on Paul’s cheeks, moved that he cared enough to cry for you. You reached over and wiped them down, not wanting to see him sad anymore. You couldn’t help but notice that Marko’s eyes also glistened suspiciously, but he turned away, rubbing at his own face in hopes you wouldn’t see.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dwayne’s gentle voice drew your attention.

“No, at least not now,” you shook your head, your voice hoarse from all the crying. “Maybe I’ll be ready to talk about it later, but right now I just want to be with you guys.”

He nodded in understanding. “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

You took his hand and gave it a thankful squeeze, your words failing you. He smiled back at you warmly.

“Well then,” David spoke up, his gloved hand still holding your own. “How about we help make you feel better, kitten? Come with me, let’s take a warm shower while the boys set everything up.”

He was already pulling you with him, out of your cocoon of blankets, out of the bed you barely left in the past few days. The only time you got up was to get something to eat from the kitchen or dragging yourself to use the bathroom, your limited amount of willpower only able to do so much. Now you let him guide you out the door, sending one last glance behind him at the others, silently communicating as you’ve seen them do so many times before, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by ‘set everything up’.

He brought you to the bathroom, letting go of your hand to turn on the faucet, even pulling off his glove to check the temperature. When he was satisfied, he started making his way towards the door to give you some privacy. A sudden desperation clenched your lungs, and the next instant you were holding onto his hand tight. His face mirrored your own surprise, both of you caught off-guard by your fast movements. You felt your stomach flip, anxiety gradually turning into embarrassment, and you had to drop your gaze to the floor.

“Could you… would you stay with me?” You had to force the words out of your mouth. Shame crept into your mind about how pathetic you sounded, but after the last few days the thought of being alone for just a second sounded even more unbearable. After a long moment, gentle fingers cupped your cheek, the chill from his bare skin creeping into your own. David brought your gaze back up at him, and every little doubt disappeared at the understanding that radiated from his cool blue eyes.

“Of course I’ll stay, kitten, if that’s what you need.”

A smile turned the corners of your lips upward, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

“There you are,” he teased softly. “That’s my darling I like to see.”

When your smile grew even brighter, he looked visibly relieved, feeling glad that he could finally pull you out of that suffocating cocoon of darkness bit by bit. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, making himself comfortable. You looked at him fondly a moment longer, letting the bathroom fill with steam from the hot water, fogging up the mirror. You wondered if he was feeling warm in all those layers as you turned your back at him and started peeling off your own clothes.

Your embarrassment returned when you felt his eyes on your bare back, your shirt dropping to the floor, soon joined by your pants and underwear. You felt completely bare standing in front of him in every sense of the word. He’s seen you naked before, they all have, but this was the first time you’ve been so vulnerable. You didn’t share your dark thought with people, not wanting to hear their pity, not wanting to seem as weak as you felt sometimes. But for the first time, he’s seen your everything, all your flaws and doubts and fears. It was a whole new type of nakedness, and it made you self-conscious. However, when you turned around to face him, all you saw was love in his eyes, and just like that, baring your soul didn’t feel so scary anymore. You knew this was a huge step, a new, deeper kind of trust was forming between you, and it made you feel safer than ever.

You stepped under the warm spray of water, not bothering to close the shower curtains all the way. You didn’t feel the need for it anymore, you had nothing to hide, and in your current state, you couldn’t care less if water got all over your floor anyway. Slowly, the tension in your muscles started to ease up, the hot shower washing away any remnants of the dark cloud that’s been festering in your mind. And you were pretty sure that David’s presence just a few feet away had a lot to do with that too. Just knowing that he’s there was enough.

As you got out of the shower, feeling refreshed and warm after the grime and sadness of the past few days have been washed away, David was already waiting for you with a towel. He wrapped you up, rubbing over your arms and back as you leaned into him, burying your nose against his collar and breathing in his scent.

“I’m gonna bring you some clothes, okay? I’ll be right back.” He seemed just as reluctant to let go as you were, but the shower helped, and you nodded, signaling that you would be alright to stay alone for a few minutes.

As he opened the door to leave, the sound of Paul and Marko bickering filtered into the bathroom along with clattering and something crashing. David and you shared a look.

“It’s okay, go and sort it out. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. He let out a sigh as left to see what the hell those two were up to. Before you closed the door behind him, you could hear his chastising voice, followed with Marko’s complaining, and you cracked a smile.

By the time David came back, you’ve already dried you hair and was just sitting around, waiting for him. Accepting the pajamas he brought you, you dropped the towel and started getting dressed. This time, the feeling of his eyes on your body stirred something inside you, but you pushed it aside. There will be time for that later, when you didn’t feel so raw, when the memory of your pain wasn’t so fresh.

After you finished, he took your hand again and guided you back into your room. You were amazed at how different it felt now, as if someone sucked out all the darkness and negativity while you were in the shower. You had a feeling that Dwayne had something to do with that, as he was just finishing up with piling every pillow he found in the house on your bed. He had changed the sheets, and made a little nest from pillows and blankets that you honestly couldn’t wait to sink into. You also noticed that all the trash you accumulated the last few days and couldn’t bother to clean up, every single food wrapper, empty water bottle and used tissue disappeared. He even found some candles god knows where and lit them up around the room, creating a truly cozy atmosphere. The curtains were fully open now, the balmy summer night air seeping in through the open windows.

Dwayne raised his head when he heard your footsteps, and by the way his eyes wandered from you to David, you were sure he felt that something had changed between you two. Guided by a sudden urge, you went over to him and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his chest, wanting to reassure him that you were better now. You felt him hugging you back, but you couldn’t see him exchanging a look with David over your head, the leader sending him a silent answer to his unspoked question. He smiled at last, satisfied with what he heard, and finally letting himself really sink into your embrace.

The moment was broken by the sound of more footsteps and bickering back and forth, stopping at the door, then everything went silent.

“Babe?” Paul’s voice was hesitant, but as you unwrapped yourself from Dwayne, turned around and smiled at them, all his worry seemed to disappear. A huge grin lit up both his and Marko’s faces, and quickly discarding what was in their hands, they were on you the next second, wrapping you in a tight hug from both sides, almost knocking you over.

“It’s so good to see you smiling again, sugar,” Marko laughed into your ear from behind, while Paul peppered kisses all over your face, causing you to burst out in giggles as well. You couldn’t help but feel your heart grow twice in size, so full of love for these four. A few tears escaped your eyes, and hearing you sniffle softly, they instantly let you go, fussing over you with panicked faces.

“It’s okay, guys, these are happy tears,” you smiled, your voice thick from all the emotions you felt at once. Paul moved to wipe them away from your cheeks, just like you had done to him before. The moment he was out of the way, Marko pulled you against him, his fingers digging into you as he held you tight, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“We were so worried when you didn’t show up for days. You could’ve gotten hurt for all we knew,” he mumbled against you. “And when we came to check on you and saw that you really were hurting and didn’t tell us I couldn’t… I felt to useless. I felt like I failed you.” His voice cracked at the end, and a fresh bout of tears escaped your eyes as you tightened your hold on him, your fingers sneaking into his hair and stroking his head.

“I’m sorry I made you worry. But you are not useless, you hear me? Do not blame for yourself for this. I should have come to you when I first started slipping into darkness. But that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that you are here right now, and that’s more than enough,” your voice started to waver. “I love you all so much. And even though I might have some similarly dark moments in the future, I want you to know that you make me so incredibly happy, and I couldn’t be luckier to be loved by all of you.”

By now, tears were flowing freely from your eyes again. However, these weren’t tears of sadness anymore, but of healing. It took a few more minutes for Marko to let go of you, and as you looked into his eyes after retreating from his embrace, they were as red as your own. You sent him a watery smile, and swore to yourself deep within your heart that you would do everything in your power to not make him cry again.

“So,” you started, not wanting to talk about sadness anymore that night, “what were you guys doing in my kitchen?” you peered over Marko’s shoulder to discover two big trays they discarded on top of your dresser when they came in. They were practically overflowing with stuff.

“Oh, right,” Paul picked them up and brought them over one by one, setting them on the coffee table they brought in from the living room. “We got some snacks and some takeout, and we even made hot choco.” He looked very proud at that. “We would have marshmallows in it if someone hadn’t forgotten about them.”

“Hey, I told you already, that was your job,” Marko countered.

“No, it wasn’t!”

“Guys, it’s fine,” you chuckled. “It’s going to be just as good without marshmallows.”

“No, it’s not,” Paul pouted. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

Your heart swooned. “I appreciate it, Paulie. That fact that you guys did all this for me,” you motioned over your little cozy setup of pillows and blankets and snacks, “is already more than enough.”

He seemed to relax at that, his ever present smile sneaking back onto his face.

“And there’s one more thing,” he pulled out a VHS of your favourite movie, having gotten it from the video store earlier. He put it in the player under your small TV, and as the opening credits started to roll, he pulled you with him onto the bed, positioning you into his lap, your back against his chest, cuddling up to you.

“Dude, don’t hog our sweetheart,” Marko complained, already next to you and draping your legs over his lap.

Dwayne handed you a mug of hot choco before settling down on your other side, taking one of your hands in his. Not having any more room right around you, David draped himself over the foot of your bed, resting his head against one of your pillows. He didn’t mind it, the precious moments the two of you shared in the bathroom earlier satiated his need for your attention.

Not long after everyone settled, right before the movie really started to pick up, you felt Dwayne gently squeeze your hand. Glancing up at him, you already found him looking at you, his eyes filled with fondness.

“If you feel like you’re starting to sink again, just tell us,” he whispered. “We’ll be there. We will always be there.”

You heart swelled at his words, nodding that you understood. And you did. You knew that after this night, you bond with them will be even stronger, your trust even deeper, and your love even more all-consuming.