#shoe's on the other foot now buddy

[wishing-stones]

Baggs Z: A taste of one's own medicine >:3c

Z. [Make up your own] A taste of one's own medicine >:3c

This was a challenge to figure out how to pull off but, well...

There's always a bigger fish, buddy.

He did not like the way that Nightmare was looking at him. That half-lidded, almost coy appraisal made his hackles raise, although he did his level best to ignore it and continue his work.

"I've been pondering how your magic works," Nightmare drew Baggs' attention back to himself the instant it forcibly left.

"I've no doubt you have," Baggs returned airily, focusing on his work rather than the uneasy feeling that his benefactor's attention presently inflicted.

"How does a human trait bond with monster magic in order to create an entirely new type? If we consider how perseverance affects the soul normally, it creates the ability to restrict movement to only a few avenues. With the holding ability of patience, to force damage unless one is completely still, it makes a certain amount of poetic sense. Restricted and forced to remain still or suffer the consequences."

He feigned disinterest, but Baggs was actively listening. He'd thought about this a number of times and come to the same conclusion Nightmare was approaching; the latent patience in his system attached to the foreign perseverence and crafted a new magic that utilized traits from both. The stillness of patience and the rigidity of perseverance literally swirled together to create his unique brand of magic. Since both traits affected the soul and its movement, it was little wonder it leeched into affecting the mind as well.

"Not to mention the almost Determination-level of focus it grants-- it's more than evident in the way that yours is more pink than purple. It dances a fine edge that I'm sure very few can escape."

"If you are getting at something, sir, it would behoove you to get to it rather than waste my time." There were rare occasions Baggs felt comfortable in pushing his boundaries with Nightmare. This was one of them. Nightmare was actively distracting the doctor from his work, and Baggs was already irritated and verging on overtired again. When Nightmare had initially shown up, he'd assumed it was to herd him to bed... but no. The Guardian of Negativity had simply stayed and watched. Baggs thought he might, perhaps, be watching his work for a while, until he saw how frequently Nightmare was watching him specifically.

"Oh my, we are getting cranky, aren't we?" Nightmare cooed in a voice thick with amusement, "I've a point, doctor, but it bears explanation."

Baggs leveled his best unimpressed, expectant stare at Nightmare, who only smiled serenely at his underling.

"And that explanation is...?" Baggs prompted, sitting down at his desk to transcribe his notes for the evening.

(He subtly checked the access records to make sure that no one had come snooping while he wasn't here and is relieved to see he has nothing to worry about today.)

"I believe I've broken down the specific way your magic resonates." Nightmare took up a seat near his desk, "As everyone's magic passes on their own unique wavelength, yours, likely by nature of perseverance, acclimates quickly to an individual's unique magical wavelength. It's how you can seize control-- you work instantly on the same individual wavelength... or more accurately, your magic attunes everyone else to yours. I have seen how you can command an entire room at once. Each soul in that room attunes to you."

Baggs paused and steepled his fingers.

"Those more in control of their magic and more attuned to their souls have more capability to resist that call." He hummed, "And the presence of Determination makes it easier to maintain one's own unique magical resonance. Interesting hypothesis."

"Indeed." Nightmare nodded sagely, smile still eerily composed, "And any good hypothesis should be tested to ensure its validity, wouldn't you agree?"

Baggs eyed him out of the corner of his socket.

"What are you getting at?" He said slowly, not entirely certain he liked the tone Nightmare took up.

"I've a very fine control over my magic, doctor Baggs." Nightmare stood, and Baggs shifted back minutely, "So much so that I can control the resonance of my soul consciously. It makes cloaking my presence to those who know it very easy. It is how my brother oft times does not know something it transpiring in another world until it is too late."

He was putting on theatrics. Baggs resisted the urge to roll his eyelights and elected not to comment. Best to let Nightmare get it out of his system.

"I've a theory that my control is even fine enough to force other souls onto the same resonance."

"Like my magic does, in theory."

"Yes, precisely."

Baggs screws up his mouth.

"You want to test this theory."

"I do."

There is a very heavy silence that follows, and Baggs finally breaks it after a moment with a callous snort and toss of his head.

"Go bother Killer with it."

"Oh, but doctor, where is the fun in that?"

Baggs did not like where this was going. He slowly pushed himself back from his desk to face Nightmare, scowling.

"No."

"What a pity, I'd assumed an academic like yourself would have welcomed the opportunity for hands-on research regarding your very unique ability, and to understand how it works better." Nightmare idly inspected his phalanges, "...Aside from the fact that I wasn't really asking."

Baggs was very suddenly no longer sitting in his chair-- he was struggling against tentacles, kicking his legs fruitlessly and squirming to no avail.

"Unhand me!" He barked, and Nightmare only chuckled.

"What ever is the matter, doctor? You trust me, do you not?"

He was beginning to rethink that stance.

"Besides, I would never do anything to hurt you. That much you can be completely assured of."

Baggs quick kicking his feet and frowned.

"Beyond all of that, it is high time that you cease your work for the evening."

He glanced sideways at his computer screen, squinting faintly at it. He'd saved... and if the computer just went to sleep it would require a password to get back into.

Something... something strange squirmed against his soul, and Baggs recoiled with a bark of indignation. He tried fruitlessly to get free again, but the more he struggled, the more it felt like something was trying to work its way in.

A heavy feeling settled on his shoulders, and he struggled against it, shaking his head fitfully.

It did nothing. The feeling of something working its way past his defenses, to the very innermost parts of his mind and soul was pervasive... But at the same time, strangely... not unwelcome?

Was this truly what it was like?

Struggling grew more and more difficult as his limbs began to respond more slowly. His head felt heavy, difficult to keep aloft, and when it tipped to the side, it was righted with a tentacle.

While Nightmare's eyelight didn't swirl and pulse like his own, it did seem very difficult to look away from. It held an unearthly, beguiling light that seemed to leak into the farthest reaches of his mind and quiet the relentless buzzing of his thoughts.

...It felt kind of nice to not think for a bit.

Nightmare chuckled softly. Baggs tried to return some witticism about his self-satisfaction, but nothing came but a weak, feeble moan that tailed higher at the end in almost a questioning manner.

"Hm. That hypothesis seems rather firmly proven correct." Nightmare observed airily, "And an interesting new utilization of my own magic. Really, I ought to thank you. Had we not met, I doubt that I would have thought to try this."

The words sunk heavily into Baggs' mind, followed by the feeling of both amusement and genuine gratitude. Nightmare might be having fun toying around with him, but he was, at the very least, truly thankful for the insight.

Still, it was getting harder and harder to keep his sockets open. This was not an unfamiliar feeling-- He was quite used to the sensation of Nightmare forcing his unruly magic into submission so that he could sleep. It was slightly different now, though. His magic did not try to retaliate. It complied easily-- almost as easily as Nightmare himself carried Baggs away from his lab and to his quarters.

He tried again to vocalize the faintest flicker of a thought, but it was snuffed out, and the words came out as a quiet, nonsensical mumble. The flash of unease that accompanied the realization that his acute mind was succumbing to numbness lasted only a moment before he was hushed-- hushed in the same way he so often hushed his own patients-- and then all was quiet.

"There, now. Nothing to fret yourself over." Nightmare's voice was a low, sweet lull, and Baggs finally lost the fight with his sockets, letting them fall closed with little resistance. The gentle sway of Nightmare's gait was pacifying as well, and he teetered on the edge of consciousness, only rousing slightly when he felt the softness of his mattress beneath him. He tried to stir out of it, but felt a tentacle smooth almost soothingly over the top of his skull.

"Sleep now, doctor. We will discuss this come the morrow."

[commanderhearteyes-r]

nat x reader with a combo of 2, 12, and 23? (nat directing those at reader)

This one 🤭 good one, good one. I enjoyed this hehe. Apologies for any errors I’m road-tripping rn lol.

————

A Student Is Only As Good As Her Teacher

Natalie x fem!r

Prompts: 2. “you’ve really never touched yourself?” 12. “does that feel good?” 23. “do you want me to teach you how?”

Warnings for: pwp, 18+ only

Truth or Dare was truthfully not your favorite game, but you guys were having a team bonding party. It had started out at Jackie’s place, but once word had gotten out about the Friday night gathering it had quickly been moved to Lottie’s house so more and more people could pile in. The booze was flowing through your veins so you were honest when Misty asked you, “have your parents ever walked in on you masterbating?”

You shook your head no, “nope,” with an exaggerated lip pop. “I’ve never done it so it’d hard for anyone to walk in on me doing it.” You see all of the heads from the girls that had not been paying much attention previously whip to you. Suddenly your honesty feels like it was too honest, “I just, ya know, don’t like know what’s going on down there or whatever, really.”

Natalie scoffs at that, you look at her with your innocent eyes and she can tell you’re not lying. She suddenly feels a surge of emotion and feels bad, to make up for it she shrugs and says, “nah not everybody is super experienced, ya know? It’s cool y/n. All good.” Natalie tips her drink back and swallows the last few warm sips, “I need a pee break, anyone wanna walk me? Y/n?” She stands and brushes off the non-existent dust from her pants.

You look around at the team before deciding that if you were picked as the designated bathroom buddy you better tag along. Giving Nat a smile you stand, “yeah I’ll come with you Nat.”

The two of you wade through the thick crowd of sweaty bodies and Nat reaches back for your hand so you stay close. She turns her head around to make sure you’re still there and you squeeze her hand. She pushes the masses and eventually you see the stairs come into view, confused you say, “Nat I thought we were supposed to use the bathrooms down here?”

“It’s all good, Lot told me I’m good to use hers. Come on,” she nods up the stairs. You’ve never been, it’s not that you and Lottie aren’t close exactly but you’ve always just hung out together as a group downstairs.

You give a reluctant smile, “okay.” As you trail up the stairs with your hands still intertwined, you smell what must be Natalie’s perfume or cologne, it’s a deep woodsy scent and you feel a sense of calm come over you about following her.

Lottie’s room is a sprawling display of her families wealth, it encapsulates her own personality but you can tell without the money she wouldn’t own half of the things inside the room. And the bed is ginormous, you give a giggle as you sit down on the mattress and wait for Natalie to finish in the en-suite bathroom.

With the sound of the door opening you let your head back fall towards Natalie’s direction, done looking around Lottie’s room, “ready to go back down?”

Natalie tucks her fingers into her jean pockets and hums as she digs around for something, “I was actually gonna ask if you wanted me to smoke you up, I have a few pre-rolls.” Her fingers find the prize and she whips out her plastic bag showing you, she looks so proud of her stash. “I just saw you smoke with Jack the other day and this is usually where I smoke so… since we’re here I might as well ask.”

You lean back on Lottie’s bed and rest your palms flat on the comforter. You probably shouldn’t, you really were fucked up already. But Nat’s weed is probably good and if you wanted to get closer to her this is your chance, the season is just starting and now you have an in. You nod and smile, “I would love to smoke with you Nat. Thank you.”

She claps and comes to sit next to you, she pushes her hair out of her face as she slips her shoes off of each foot. She’s adorable. “Okay so Lot just asks that we use the ash tray, which I’ll grabbbbb.” She tells you as she reaches for the tray on the side table. Natalie then flicks her gaze to you, admiring you it seems. You did feel cute tonight, but you weren’t wearing anything crazy it was just supposed to be a team party. But your hair was lying nice and you smelled like your shower gel and your signature scent. It looked like Nat liked those things as well, you weren’t sure if Nat liked girls but you were sure that she had at least kissed one or two from seeing it happen first hand. Needless to say you had a little crush on the girl that was sporting a dark eye look, baggy jeans and a white shirt. Her leather jacket had been discarded down stairs, but that was a crowd pleaser always. You both break the silence with a quick throat clear and Natalie reaches in her plastic sandwich bag to grab a beautiful little pre-roll. She takes her lighter and you watch the flame ignite and catch the leaves and paper on fire, it turns into a slow red pulse as the lighter flicks off. “Here, shits pretty strong.” Nat says, strained through a lung full of smoke after a deep inhale.

You focus and reach forward to take your turn, “thanks,” you mumble. As you inhale a slow smile spreads across Nat’s face, confused you inhale and ask, “what’s up?”

“Have you really never touched yourself? I didn’t mean to be a dick in front of everybody.” A hand brushes yours gently taking the lit joint back in its possession.

A warm heat creeps up your cheeks, this is just Nat. You look down at your lap and sit forward slightly. “Uh no, I tried once or twice, but it made me feel like weird. And it’s all wet and like I literally had no idea what to do.”

Natalie gives you a soft giggle, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I swear I am not laughing at you. It’s just like no one knows what to do at first, you gotta fuck around and figure out what you like and start going from there ya know?”

You consider her words - watching as her lips wrap around the white cylindrical wrapping, you swallow and give her a little mhm. “I guess you’re right, it’s not that I don’t get turned on or anything. I just feel like it’s out of my depth.” She exhales and you feel the smoke rush over your face.

“Here, your turn. Do you want me to teach you how?” The words slip out of her mouth like honey, her raspy voice sounds so sure. Your eyes track her, she leans down to lay on her side and she pushes your hand towards your mouth. “Take a hit.” You do. Breathe, she’s just a girl. She’s just Natalie. Suddenly that idea sounds so intriguing. You release your lungs and exhale.

The head rush caused by your thoughts racing has you dizzy so you hand Nat back her weed, “yeah. Yeah I want you to show me.” Natalie bites her lip and falls flat on her back before taking a drag. Her feet are waving back and forth, she’s just a girl too. She’s excited, no need to be nervous.

Nat offers you a turn and you decline, she stubs the end out on Lottie’s tray. “I’ll save the rest for later. Do you wanna talk about this? Or do you trust me? I’ll take it so slow and only do what you’re comfortable with.”

You pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them tucking your chin in your arms, “um I don’t know. I don’t know how any of this works. But… I do trust you Nat. Do I have to be liked - naked?” Your last question is asked with an air of unease and she puts a hand on your knee and shakes her head.

“You can be however you want, I just figured no pants would at least be more comfortable. It’s up to you though I can work with whatever.” She is so sweet, she’s gentle and her eyes are screaming please don’t change your mind.

“Um no pants is probably good, maybe underwear at first though.” Nat nods.

“Lean back, I’ll take them off for you. Relax.” She makes quick work of your button and your zipper, she looks up and makes eye contact before telling you to lift your hips so she can drag your pants down below your butt. You lift and your can feel her fingertips brushing skin as the pants leave your waist, Natalie is really about to touch your vagina. This is insane, she asked to do it!!! What is your life?! “Come here.” She tells you as she pulls your legs over hers and settles them behind her hips. The two of you are facing each other both sitting on the bed and your underwear clad self is sitting legs spread for her, you’re face to face with the pretty girl now. “Are you doing okay?” She asks as she runs her thumbs over your hips.

Mhm, the noise is weak. But your heart is pounding, you’re so fucking nervous. Maybe a kiss would calm your nerves, or maybe make it worse. Oh god. Fuck it. “Can I kiss you?” Makes it past your lips, you swallow while waiting for an answer.

A hand leaves your hip and makes its home on your cheek, her eyes bore into yours. “You can kiss me whenever you want. You don’t have to ask.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re cute.” Natalie giggles before pulling your lips to hers. Oh they’re so soft. You’ve stared at them before, but your imagination is nothing like feeling them on yours. You can smell the scent of the weed from both of you, but it’s mixed with the smell of your mint chapstick. Nat keeps the kisses light, but it’s sending the signals in your brain haywire.

Your thighs go to clench and it only serves to pull Nat in more, her jeans rub slightly against your underwear and you gasp, “oh! I’m sorry that was unexpected, I didn’t know I was pulling you in that much.” You apologize.

Natalie closes the gap completely and presses you against her jeans giving you a good pressure down below. “This is what we’re here for, it’s okay.” She gives you a soft smooch and asks, “can I see your hand?” You nod and put your right hand in her left, “I’m gonna show you something that I like to do to myself okay. It’ll all be up top, just with your clit and we don’t have to do anything else if you’re not comfortable with that.”

“As good a place as any to start I suppose,” you replied. Nat takes your middle finger and sticks it in her mouth, your jaw drops and the feeling of her tongue wetting your finger. You didn’t know fingertips could be so sensitive. You feel yourself clench around nothing. You let out a mmm. She releases your finger and twists your hand into a comfortable position to go into your underwear, then both of your hands make entrance into the fabric. She’s not looking down though, she’s sure to make eye contact as she guides your finger to the sensitive bud. You feel her part your lips and then your middle fingers fingertip is placed solidly on your clit, with the spit on your finger it’s slippery and you’re not sure what to do now so you wait. Your eyes are searching her face for an answer.

“I like to make a sort of curling motion like up and down with my finger, your hand won’t move, just your finger. And keep your clit under your finger don’t let it slip, okay? Now this is preference so if this isn’t what you like I can show you something else.” She whispers, the two of you are so close together that you know she can smell your arousal and hope she doesn’t mind, because you are extremely turned on. Suddenly she starts your finger in motion, her hand is still over yours and making the motions happen. You understand what she means though by the curling motion and shortly start going faster to chase that feeling, her hand stops helping but it doesn’t leave your underwear. “Does that feel good?”

Oh my fuck, hearing her ask that question while you’re masturbating in her lap is pushing you past the point of sanity. “Yes, yes it feels so good. I don’t wanna stop.”

“No, no don’t stop. Keep going, please.” As she says that she sneakily dips a finger down to your hole to prod and see if you’re wet. You are too preoccupied to notice what she’s done until her hand exits the fabric and you see her own finger enter her mouth. “Mmm, you taste so fucking good.” Your hips jump involuntarily.

“Oh shit N-… oh shit that was hot.” You don’t know what to do about this while situation. You almost said her name, is that too far? She’ll have to deal with whatever happens. “Can I lay back? I can’t hold myself up anymore my stomach is cramping.”

“Yeah hun lay back, here let me help you.” She lays you down and gives your legs a gentle scratch as she runs her blunt nails down the naked length of them to make sure they stay around her hips. “Keep that rhythm on your clit, can I show you something else?” You nod, ready for another addition to your skills. Her finger pulls your underwear to the side and your hole is exposed, “when you fuck yourself it’ll be a different angle, but this is still good.” She wets two of her fingers and slides them inside.

“Oh Na- God! Holy fuck.” You clasp your hand over your mouth.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, say my name - please?” Natalie pleads to you. Her fingers spread inside you and then go in and out exploring your hole.

“Nat, Natalie fuck me holy shit.” You went from touching yourself for her to taking her beautiful, gorgeous fingers. This is your best case scenario.

“Look at me, you feel so good. You’re so tight and wet. Your warm, wet pussy is pulling my fingers in and swallowing my fingers. You were made for them, keep doing what I showed you hun. Don’t look away from me though.” She talked you through the shock of fingers being inside you for the first time. Your hips start rocking and you do your best to maintain eye contact with her.

“Nattie I think I’m gonna cum already, I’m so wound up. I can’t hold it back. I think I’m gonna cum! Please go harder.” You beg the girl inside your cunt.

“It’s okay hun, if you need to cum then you cum for me. Say my name while you cum and look at me.” Your head had dropped for a second, but shot back up the second she said look at me. Your stomach clenches so tight and you feel like your head rush is gonna kill you.

“NAT! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Nat fuck, fuck. Nattie oh my god.” She keeps pushing her fingers into your tight clenching cunt. It lengthens your orgasm and makes your legs shake.

“Hey is y/n in here? OH MY GOD!” Jackie screams as she barges in and covers her eyes, “y/n what the hell are you doing?! You’re supposed to be downstairs drinking with me. Oh god I’m leaving.” She slams the door and footsteps are heard receding down the hallway.

Natalie extracts her fingers and stands before looking at you so apologetically and she’s panicking as she says, “I didn’t even think to lock the door. Fuck I’m so sorry.”

You, breathless, lean up on your elbows, “she’ll get over it. Come show me how to say thank you.”

Natalie runs to lock the door and jumps back on the bed…

[0mg-bird]

Sister’s Mister ~ B. Bradshaw x Seresin Sister Reader

Summary: When Jake’s little sister pays a visit, Bradley gets himself into a sneaky situation where he might want to be the sister’s mister.

Warning: 18+ content ahead, language.

A/n: Very Nickelback coded, argue with the wall.

There was a feeling of uncertainty among the men in the locker room as they showered and cleaned up. Jake left early to pick up a package, that package being his dearest little sister. You.

“He’s bringing her to Payback’s birthday party.” Fanboy states and he pulls a clean shirt on.

The rest groan, asking Payback why he’s allowing it. He just shrugs. “Dude, I felt bad, alright? She’s coming to stay for a month, I don’t want to start off on a bad foot.”

Bob, who was currently pulling his civilian shoes on, shook his head. “Hangman’s enough, what are we gonna do when a second him is going to be hangin’ around?”

They moan about that, all making claims about what you must be like. Things like spoiled, arrogant, and self centered all came up.

Bradley runs his hands through his hair a few times. “Which sister is this anyway? He’s got about five of them.” He asks.

“Big families are common in the south.” Bob reminds.

Coyote is there to answer his question. “I think it’s the one born after him? They’re the closest ones out of the seven kids.”

“Seven!” They all exclaim, cursing with wide eyes.

Bradley shuts his locker. “Six siblings might be the reason Hangman’s a head case.” He claims, making the others laugh.

“Yeah, let’s just hope the sisters not the same way.” Omaha chuckles.

~~

At the airport, you look for the tall head of blonde hair that is your brother. Suitcase rolling along behind you, you pass security and immediately see him.

Jake leans against a pillar, looking rather bored until he sees you approaching. Then, he’s walking to you with a smile.

“I was hoping you’d accidentally board a flight to Mexico instead.” He teases as you hug him.

“Oh c’mon now, don’t act like you haven’t missed me.” You smile, air getting squeezed out of your lungs as his strong arms grip you.

He pulls away and takes your suitcase and backpack. “Hard to miss someone whose face is plastered on magazine issues. But it’s good to see ‘ya, sis.”

The two of you leave to get a bite to eat, then Jake drops you off at the small house you rented.

“We’re going to my buddies birthday party tomorrow night.” He tells you as he checks the place.

You roll your eyes at his effort to make sure no crazy people are hiding behind the curtains, then open up your backpack to unpack some things.

“Which buddy is this?” You question.

“Just someone on my squad.” Jake explains.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Yay, a barbecue in the park.”

Jake glares at your fake enthusiasm. “It’s not a barbecue, and I feel personally victimized by that stereotypical statement.”

“Ooh, Jakey’s using big words.” You fake gasp.

He isn’t amused.

“We’re going to a club, okay? You know all about those, huh?” He teases, making your brows furrow.

“Is that what you think I do all day? Go to clubs with rich people?” You ask, to which he shrugs and nods. You scoff. “I do have an actual job, I just happen to know how to party.”

Jake sits at the kitchen counter. “So do we. Look, it’ll be fun and you can meet the crew.” He says, making you give in.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

He hums. “You never had a choice but I appreciate your cooperation.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out of my house, Seresin.”

~~

“Where’s Hangman?” Phoenix asks as she greets everyone in the parking lot.

They all wait to go inside the club, ready to get drinks down and watch Payback get wasted, but the only problem was they were waiting for the last two to join.

“Fashionably late.” Bradley huffs, checking the time. They agreed to meet at ten, but the minutes continue to tick by.

“Hey, what’s this chick’s name?” Phoenix asks, looking down at her phone with a face of confusion.

They all rattle off names until one clicks.

“Yeah! That’s it.” Coyote agrees, looking at the faces of surprise. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I’m Facebook stalking her.”

Though they want to call her crazy, they huddle around the phone as she scrolls through the profile. Bradley rolls his eyes at the antics.

“You guys are being ridiculous.” He states.

“Holy shit…” Fanboy exclaims.

“She’s gorgeous…like insanely gorgeous.” Payback finishes the thought.

Just as Bradley turns to look, Jake’s truck rolls into a parking spot. Phoenix scrambles to put her phone away, trying to act natural as Jake gets out. He walks around the truck and opens the passenger side door.

Two long legs step out, they all watch with anticipation. The door is shut to reveal you in full.

Long, curled hair, a short black dress. You smile as you approach, it reflects in your blue eyes.

Bradley stands in a daze as you get introduced to everyone. He’s trying to think of a time when he’s seen someone more beautiful than you but he just can’t.

“This is Rooster.” Jake finally gets to him.

Bradley snaps out of it and smiles, shaking your perfectly soft hand.

You let your eyes rise from his shoes, all the way up his jeans and white tank top under his unbuttoned shirt. When they meet his eye, you take in a small breath at the way he gazes at you.

“Hi, Rooster.” You speak with a subtle southern accent, introducing yourself.

Then, you’re pulling away from him, his hand falls back at his side and he sees you turn to Payback.

“Happy birthday.” You say and hand him a small gift bag. “Jake helped me pick it out.”

He reaches into the bag, thanking you and saying that you really didn’t need to get him anything. He takes out a velvet box and opens it to reveal an expensive looking watch. The crew lowly whistles at it.

“Damn…my birthday’s next month by the way.” Coyote tells you, making you laugh.

Inside the club, the group of you gather in the reserved booth with a first round of drinks. Bradley sits directly across from you, watching you intently as you answer different questions.

“What do you do for work?” Phoenix asks, making Jake cut in.

“Stripping.” He says with a serious face, making you slap his arm.

“Stop telling people that.” You scold before looking back at Phoenix. “I model.”

That sparks a roar of interest, the whole time Bradley just watches your movements. Your fingers toy with the skinny straw in your glass as you tell a story about being in a rock music video or of doing an issue for Vogue two months ago. He sees your pouty bottom lip get caught between your pearly teeth when you laugh at something and his mind is flooded with thoughts he cannot speak out loud.

Here he was, worried you’d be a stone cold bitch when he should have been worried that you were gonna make him grip the table to ground himself. All you were doing was sitting there and he was already getting pulled in.

You’re Jake’s sister.

He has to remind himself of that as you are dragged into the swarm of clubbers by Phoenix and Halo.

“So…we’re just going to ignore the fact that she was a bunny?” Coyote mentions, making Jake cringe.

“Hey, asshole, let’s not talk about that when I’m sitting right here. Besides, it was like one issue, and she wasn’t buck naked.” He corrects, chugging his beer at the odd topic this has come to.

“You seen it?” Fanboy cringes.

“Our mom sent it to the family group chat! I was horrified.” Jake gags.

Bradley laughs at his reaction, then shifts his eyes to Coyote who finishes his drink. He sees the smirk he has and knows that there’s gonna be a comment to follow.

“She was hot, dude. I feel a little star struck, actually.” Coyote chuckles.

Jake points an angry finger at his friend. “I love you man, but say anything like that again and I’m putting you through this table. Got it?” He spits.

Bradley looks at his glass.

He better just keep his mouth shut, because if Jake hears the things he’s thinking, he’s as good as dead.

“What do you mean she was a bunny?” Bob questions, defusing the tension. “I thought she was Jake’s sister?”

The guys let out a sigh, Jake races off as it has to be explained to the pilot.

Lights and music pulse and as you dance along, Bradley’s jaw is ticking back and forth. You appear like a phantom, arms up as you laugh with Phoenix.

“I’ll be back.” He tells the guys before heading for the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him and leans on the sink, trying to get himself together. Then, he pulls out his phone and Googles your name.

Hundreds and hundreds of photos appear on the screen, all in which you look sinfully good.

How could he not know of you before? He feels like he’s lived in darkness this whole time.

Bradley splashes water on his face and tells his reflection to get it together. With a deep breath, he goes to the bar, trying to get his head straight.

Things with Jake were finally fine, there was a truce made. The last thing that Bradley needs is to start another war by getting too close to the miniature Seresin.

Leaning on the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him, he’s suddenly joined.

“You weren’t gonna offer me a drink?” You ask with a playful smile.

He turns his head, looking down at you and he internally curses. Of course you’d find him, life was never easy for him.

“I figured you were a big girl and could get yourself something if you were thirsty.” He states, swallowing hard.

You let out a small chuckle, then wave the bartender over.

“Whatcha’ need sweetheart?” The bartender asks, leaning forward with a wink.

“Vodka with a diet redbull, if you wouldn’t mind.” You order, then turn to Rooster with an expectant look.

“Oh, uh, just whiskey on the rocks.” He mutters.

The bartender gets right on it, leaving the two of you alone once more.

You run a manicured hand through your hair and look up at him. “So, Rooster, you got a real name?” You ask.

He nods, avoiding eye contact. His fingers flex into fists and back out again because you smell like cherry and vanilla, it makes him feel woozy.

You laugh. “Yeah? What is it?”

Blowing out a breath, he tells himself he’s stronger than this and looks to you.

“Bradley.” He says, aching as you hum and try the name out for yourself.

“Bradley. I like that.” You nod, taking your drink as it is given to you.

Your lips wrap around the straw and slowly sip as he drinks his whiskey, focusing on the taste of it washing down his throat.

You watch the veins in his arms and the way his adams apple bobs. He’s the perfect picture of fine, the wheels are turning in your head as you establish that he’s what you want.

“You want to dance with me, Bradley?” You ask as he finishes the drink in silence.

He shoots his brown eyes down at you, but doesn’t answer. Your straw slurps as you reach the bottom of your glass. “It’s a simple question.” You state.

“No.” He shutters.

“No?” You clarify.

“I do but no, I won’t.” He says weakly.

“And why is that?” You question, lips pursing.

The way you squint your eyes makes him want to drop dead. He clears his throat. “You’re off limits, sweetheart. The last thing I need is your brother ripping my head off.”

You smile. “I’m a big girl, I can make my own decisions.”

He turns to fully face you now. “I don’t think that matters to Hangman.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I’m standing here talking to you and he hasn’t come found me. I don’t know about you but to me, that seems like it’s okay for you to continue talking to me.”

You were being extremely difficult.

He sits on the chair behind him, motioning for you to do the same. Slowly, you sit, crossing one leg over the other. Your thumb nail gets caught between your teeth for a moment before he reaches out to pull it away. You lightly gasp at the action, then fold your hands together in your lap. “Wanna talk? Let’s talk.”

The two of you exchange friendly chatter, both very aware of the space shrinking between you. The sound of your voice is addicting, the longer you talk, the longer he adores it. All those silly things they guys assumed about you were entirely false. You were smart and kind, you were actually hilarious.

“You still don’t want to dance with me?” You ask after a breath, your fingers running over his thigh.

He sucks in a breath. “You just want me to be killed, don’t you?”

You look at the mass of people. “If I know one thing, it’s that my brother is probably all over some little blonde right now and way too distracted to worry about me.” You state, moving your fingers now to the back of his hand, slowly tracing shapes on his skin.

“What about the others?” He asks.

You shrug. “There’s a swarm of people, I doubt they’ll notice.”

He fights his inhibitions, then decides he’s aching to feel the silk of your dress under his hands way more than he is scared of getting caught.

Bradley grabs your hand, it’s strong as it guides you off the seat. You smirk to yourself as you follow behind him. He strategically places the two of you in the crowd, the lack of space makes you press yourself to him. Your arms hook around his neck, you feel the warmth of his palms on your lower back.

The different colored lights make the silhouette of you sharp and enticing. Though the two of you start out calm, your movements aren’t subtle. One hand in his hair, the other smooths up his chest. You’re hot, blame it on the people around you but the way he’s looking at you isn’t helping. The size of his hands on you, the way his hair gets messy, it has your knees feeling wobbly.

One movement forward, you’re pressed right against him, giving a delicious contact to the crotch of his jeans. His fingers grip your hips tightly, he leans down to press his lips to your ear. Your eyes widen as the heat of his breath washes down your neck.

“Don’t.” Is the only word he utters.

And you aren’t used to being told no.

You do it again, creating that aching friction as you rub against him. “Why not?” You whisper back.

Bradley shuts his eyes, trying to stay strong in the war he is not winning. “Don’t start something, sweetheart.”

You reach down to grab both his hands and slide them behind you. He grabs your ass instinctively.

“What if I want to?” You ask, anything but innocent.

He pulls away from your ear, shaking his head at you like it’ll change the situation. He’s saying no because it’s the smart thing, but really all he wants to do is slide his hand under your dress.

Your hand braces one side of his neck while you lean to the other. Slowly, like you aren’t sure if he’ll push you off or not, your lips press to his skin.

Bradley wants to curse, the way your tongue tastes the salt on his skin has him grinding you against him on his own accord. You make your way up to his jaw, then pull back. His eyes are entirely dark, you open your mouth to speak but he’s kissing you roughly.

You sigh contently as you start to feel like you’re buzzing on more than just alcohol. It only lasts a few seconds, like he just needed a taste. Bradley pulls away with a huff, you feel like you’re going to fall over.

“Still scared of Jake?” You ask him.

He shakes his head. “This isn’t smart.”

“But you want it.” You say, hand sliding up his chest.

He wants it, fuck he wants it. You can see it in his eyes, that’s why you take his hand and pull him out of the crowd.

In the secluded hallway of the bathrooms, in the low red lighting, you’re grinning as you’re backing him into the wall. You inhale deeply, fighting with his lips as he holds your waist. It’s feverish as you kiss, the way you gently press against his waist has Bradley biting back moans. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back, walking you until you hit the opposite wall.

“Don’t be a tease.” He warns lowly, hand gently squeezing your jaw.

Your smirk is victorious. “I won’t be a tease if you take me back to your place.”

He tightens his grip slightly before swooping down and devouring your lips. His strained jeans rub against you. “That’s what you want?” He asks, pulling away again.

You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “I’m up for anything you want to do, actually.”

His thumb pulls that lip down. He looks at it in awe as he makes his final decision.

“Text your brother, tell him that you called an Uber home.” He says.

“Jake already said he was taking a girl home and sent me the cash for a ride.” You breathe.

It’s all a sudden blur, the way Bradley’s dragging you out to the parking lot, helping you into the passenger seat of his Bronco. He’s definitely breaking traffic laws as he races to his one bedroom house.

He struggles to get the door open as you suck at his neck. Once he does get it open, he’s tugging you inside and slamming it shut.

Down the hall, you’re shredding his layers. His button shirt is thrown over the couch in the living room, his belt lands on the coffee table. As you pull his white tank off, your breath catches.

“Fuck.” Is all you can say, looking at how toned his upper body is. His biceps make you want to wrap your hands around them and squeeze.

Bradley smirks, feeling good about himself. “This is what gets you to shut that mouth of yours?” He asks.

You run your eyes over his abs. “You’re like…insanely hot.”

He grips your waist, then backs you up into the kitchen counter. “Says the one with the million dollar body.”

Your fingers dance over his bare skin. “Art appreciates art.” You shrug before devouring his kiss again.

At this point your lipstick is gone, Bradley wears some of it on his skin like you’ve branded him. His hands brace under your thighs, easily lifting you to sit on the smooth kitchen counter. You sit with a huff, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot between them. The smooth material of your dress bunches on your hips, giving him a perfect view of the pretty pink thong you wear.

He breathes heavy in excitement, gazing down at the lace like it’s a prize. That’s before he’s tilting your head back and kissing down the column of your throat. You mewl softly at the feeling, how he dances down the tops of your breasts that threaten to spill out of the dress.

Then he’s sinking further down, you watch him slowly lower himself to become eye level with your core. You gasp softly as he grips your thighs and places warm kisses to them. It stimulates you, the way his lips feel. His hot breath fans over your aching center, he’s kissing the lace fabric like he’s praising it before he grips the top of it.

“You still sure you want this?” He checks one last time. “Because I don’t know if I can stop after I start.”

You grow impatient, flexing your hips to move your heat closer to him. “Bradley, I don’t want you to stop.”

That was enough for him to yank the panties down your legs, letting them hang on one ankle. He keeps your heels on, enjoying the way they press against his upper back as your legs drape over his shoulders.

His tongue comes to run up your center, you take in a sharp breath. He tastes your arousal, immediately becoming intoxicated off of it. Fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs, he keeps you spread open for him as he dives in, eating you out in a way you haven’t experienced before.

Your head falls back, hand wringing in his hair, holding him close to you. A moan tumbles free from your throat. “Oh fuck, you’re good at this. Fuck! Like that.”

He can’t help but grin wildly, stimulating your erected clit before stretching two fingers inside of you. Your hips buck at the feeling, you’re humming out, panting at the feeling. He eats it so good, you don’t even think to muffle the sounds you make.

“Ah, Bradley.” You breathe, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“You like it, pretty girl?” He vibrates against you, making you cry out.

His eyes lift to look up at you writhe. You’re perfect, open mouthed and grinding against his tongue, reacting when he curls his fingers.

“Yes.” You encourage.

The sound is wet and lewd as he sucks on your sensitive skin, your eyes widen as you feel your finish coming on.

“Rooster, I’m close.” You whine slightly, it only makes him focus more and get you closer.

“You want to cum? Do it, finish for me.” He encourages.

Your chest heaves, you tighten your grip in his hair as you clench around his fingers. You curse loudly, feeling the orgasm build and build until you finally snap. You shudder, your thighs clench around Bradley’s head as you feel the wave wash over you. He’s there through it, cleaning you up with his tongue, sucking his fingers clean.

You lick his lips, tasting yourself on him before kissing him.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He coos, helping you off the counter, chuckling at your uneasy legs as he guides you to his bedroom.

The door is clicked shut behind you and Bradley’s pulling you against him, cradling your face in his hands as he clashes his tongue with yours. His pants are pushed off by your greedy hands, then he’s watching you crawl onto his perfectly made bed. Your eyelashes fan perfectly as you stare at him, slowly pulling your dress off and dropping it to the floor.

Fuck.

You’re perfect.

Sitting pretty for him, he lets his eyes roam over your perfect skin, how great you look in his bed.

He’s in trouble.

Your leg extends out, lifting your foot up expectantly. With a pleased smile, he comes forward to the foot of the bed, unbuckling the heel, then the other. He tosses them carelessly behind him, they hit the floor with a clatter.

“Those are expensive.” You warn as he tugs at your ankles, making you gasp and fall onto your back.

“Yeah? I’m sure you have five more pairs just like them.” He states, crawling up the bed to hover over you.

Slowly, the two of you share the same air. You lay, looking up at him. “Come on, Bradley, I won’t tell if you won’t.” You tease.

He could devour you.

“You do this often? Target your brother’s friends?” He jokes back.

Your nails run down his scalp. “I can’t stand my brother’s friends. You on the other hand, you’re different.”

Tongue in your mouth, he’s moaning, sitting up to pull open his nightstand drawer. The foil of the condom is cool in his fingers, he pulls back to sit on his knees as you sit up. You pull his boxer briefs down his toned legs, breathing heavy as his full erection is freed. It aches against his stomach, the tip dripping with precum. You swipe your thumb over it, making him groan.

Completely infatuated, you pump your hand over his length as he rips open the condom package.

“I’ll cum if you keep doing that.” He grunts out, pulling your hand away so he can roll the rubber on. “Get on your stomach.”

The direct tone of his voice has you a mess between your legs, you roll over, legs spread, yelping in surprise as he tugs your hips, positioning your ass in the air.

“Is this okay?” He asks, warmly rubbing your back.

Hair falls in your eyes, he moves it away. You look back at him and nod. “It’s more than okay.”

His dark eyes gleam, then he’s positioning himself at your entrance. You feel the tip of him run down your folds, nudging your clit, making you mewl lowly and grab the pillow.

He pushes halfway in before you gasp, he slowly enters your walls to make sure you’re relaxed enough for him. The pressure his size gives you has you breathing hard already.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart.” He says lowly, letting his head fall back as he finally bottoms out.

Adjusting, you can feel how good he fills you. “Oh god.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly pulls back and pushes into you again.

“You sound so perfect.” Bradley says, slack jawed.

He kneads your ass, gripping it as he sets a pace. The way you lay out on front of him, arched back and taking him so good, he wants to cum inside of you in that moment.

“Mm, like that.” You guid. “You’re so fucking deep.”

Hearing those dirty words from your perfect lips, his vision threatens to go blurry.

“Yeah? Is this what you wanted the whole night, my cock buried inside you. Fuck, you’re so tight, it’s amazing.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling your hips, he fucks you back into him. As you meet his thrusts, broken sounds are coming from your throat.

You’re picture perfect, he’s going to be getting off to this image for weeks.

Mind completely cloudy, you mutter your words, they slur together. His fingers snake down to rub your clit and it has you choking on a sob, burying your face into the pillow at the build up inside of you.

“There you go, baby.” He breathes, picking up his pace. His hand stretches to gently tangle in your hair, his thrusts are hard, jolting you.

His name is muffled as you chant it, warning him that you’re oh-so close. You can’t even turn your head to look back at him, you just lean your head back and cry out as you clench around him.

“Holy shit- I’m almost there, hang on.” He grunts, edging himself closer and closer.

Your body shakes. “Bradley.” You whimper out, then you’re coming all over him.

The shout of him is what makes him push fully inside of you one last time and release. He bucks against you, riding his high out.

You’re collapsed onto the mattress now as he pulls out of you, mouth open as you pant, face and hair a mess.

“Holy fuck…” He runs a hand over his face, moving to lean back against his headboard.

He looks down at you, thinking you’re utterly spent. His gentle hands pull you up to him, slowly kissing you, trying to comb your hair down.

You learn how affectionate he can be. Especially after another round, where you’re watching him fuck up into you as you ride him, and genuine tiredness overcomes the two of you. You both clean up, then you try to decide what your next move is.

Hookups weren’t something you were too familiar with, you’ve only ever slept with your previous boyfriends.

Were you supposed to go back to your house? Did he expect you to leave?

The answer is decided when he shifts to his worn side of the bed.

“Come back to bed.” He says, watching you stand in the doorway, looking at your shoes.

Your eyes lift back up to him and his heart stops for a moment, you’re wearing a genuine grin.

Tangled in his sheets, not bothering to get dressed, the two of you talk until you eventually are lulled to sleep. You tried to fight it, but he’s so warm as he holds you, his voice is such a perfect tone, he’s rubbing your head and doing everything a hookup doesn’t do.

He’s well aware of this.

And when you’re snoozing peacefully, tucked against his chest, he curses and looks up at the ceiling.

He was already in too deep.

Part 2 here

[whosbloom]

Aaron Hotchner » Spirit Halloween

day 11 of flufftober

⋆.˚ summary: while having to watch Jack for the day you decided to show him the true Halloween spirit and surprise Aaron

⋆.˚ fluff , babysitter!reader , mentions of sexualized costumes , Jack being absolutely adorable

“Alright, Jack, ready to check this place out?” You smiled as you held his hand, opening the door for him, watching his eyes light up as they immediately darted around the many decorations upon entering.

He let go of your hand and rushed over to one of the interactive decorations, a large pumpkin headed animatronic. He looked down at his shoes and saw a button with bright red letters saying ‘Step On Me’.

His curiosity spiked, stomping his small foot on it as he looked back up, watching the animatronic spring out and shout out an automated line.

You walked up behind him and smiled, listening as he started to giggled loudly, turning around to face you before grabbing your finger and started tugging you around to the next one.

“Jack, buddy, slow down.” You laughed lightly, bending down a little to follow after him, watching as he happily started pressing different interactive buttons and watched the different animatronics pop out at him.

He glanced back at you and smiled widely, squeezing your finger before using his little hand to gesture you to bend down.

You sighed and crouched down to match his height, raising your brows in anticipation. “What is it, bud?”

He smiled and moved in closer, using a hand to cup his mouth so he could whisper to you. “We should surprise daddy with one.” He giggled lightly at his own suggestion, before rushing away from you to go search the store more.

“Jack! Gotta stop running from me!” You laughed and pushed yourself up from your knees, taking quick and big steps towards him, scooping him up and held him close.

“Alright, well, what do you wanna do to surprise your dad?” You asked, placing him back down and held him still by his shoulders.

“There’s masks, fake weapons, some little kid costumes. Maybe we pick out your costume and show him what you’re going as this year.” You raised your brows at him, fixing his hair a little and kissed his head.

“Costume! I wanna dress like him.” He smiled and grabbed your hands from behind his head, awkwardly tugging you along to the many costumes on shelves.

Infront of you was several like his father’s job; cops, firemen, etc. You squeezed his hand before pulling away, walking down the small aisle for a moment until finding an FBI agent costume.

“Oh, buddy, I think we found one.” You glanced back at him, showing him the costume, before attempting to find one that was definitely his size.

“Maybe.. you dress as the good guy, and I’ll dress as the bad guy. You wanna help me find a bad guy costume?” You watched as he eagerly nodded, walking over to you and eagerly pointed out some of the criminal costumes—which sadly were very sexualized.

“Maybe not that one..” You smiled awkwardly as you held his costume under your arm, redirecting his attention to the more normal costumes.

He nodded and picked out a classic orange jumpsuit, one that came with a pair of handcuffs as well. You ran a hand over his hair before helping him grab the costume off the shelf, letting him hold it.

“Wanna check out the masks before we buy these?” You gently grabbed his arm again, directing him towards the other end of the store.

By the time you had gotten back to Aaron’s place you were helping Jack adjust his little tie, straightening out the suit from his costume and made him look all professional.

“Now.. we add your badge.” You smiled and picked up the quick makeshift badge you had printed out and stuffed in the provided ID holder from the costume, flipping it to his collar.

“You’re just like your dad, aren’t you?” You kissed his forehead as you smiled at him, adjusting the plastic handcuffs that dangled from your wrist, watching as his smile grew.

“I’m a hero now.” He small words were simple yet enough to make your heart ache, nodding more as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.. best hero out there, right?” You raised your brows at him, seeing him happily nod before perking up at the sound of keys jiggling at the door.

“Looks like the real hero’s home now.” You laughed softly, kissing his head again as you pushed yourself to a standing position, watching as he carefully grabbed your hands and held them behind you, loosely clipping the handcuffs around your other wrist.

“You gotta be stern and put me in my place, okay? Really sell the act.” You whispered to him, giving him a short nod before nudging the door open, listening for Aaron as he entered the living room and called out to you both.”

“Jack? Y/N?” His voice rang through the apartment, before he was greeted by the sound of Jack’s voice yelling at you rather sweetly.

“Daddy! I got the bad guy!” He smiled proudly as he pushed you into the living room, showing off your matching costumes to his father, before letting go of your wrists and rushed over to him.

Aaron crouched down with a smiled, taking in his costume before picking him up, planting a kiss to the side of his head. “Where in the world did you two go?”

You laughed lightly and awkwardly messed with the plastic handcuffs, attempting to loosen them as you glanced down behind your back. “Uh—y’know. Spirit Halloween.. Jack wanted to be a hero for Halloween, so he chose to dress like you.”

Aaron gently put Jack down as he walked over to you, helping you get the cuffs off, before holding them up for you and smiled.

“Thanks.. you really didn’t have to. I can pay you back however much the costume cost.” He offered with slightly furrowed brows. “Aaron, it’s fine. I’d gladly spend all my money to see Jack this happy.”

He nodded simply, a hand finding purchase on your lower back, his gaze on yours as a smile found its home on his lips again.

He was about to speak up when he was interrupted by Jack, his attention going over to his son. “Are you two going to kiss?” He gave you both a weird look before walking away to his room, making you laugh slightly.

“Guess he didn’t want to witness that if it happened.” You shrugged and fiddled with the cuffs in your hand, raising your brows at him.

“If?” He glanced back at you, gaze flickering to your lips for a split second. “Doesn’t have to be an if.” He suggested quietly, his hand still on your back.

“You do realize you’d be kissing a criminal then, right? I’m in character right now.” You smiled and laughed, turning more towards him and placed a hand against his chest.”

“Clearly, you stole my heart. Thief.” He responded simply, before leaning down and planted his lips against yours softly. You almost immediately reciprocated, your hands in his shoulders.

The kiss lasted a few moments, before you pulled back and gave him an amused look. “That is the most cliche thing you could have said, I hope you know that.”

He rolled his eyes, hands on yours waist as he let out a content sigh. “Let me enjoy this, will you?” He gave you a playfully annoyed look, before kissing you once again.

tags: @lemoniiiiiii , @xrag-dollx , @jazz-berry (ask to be added!)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Walk Dates

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (+ Kojo and r's service dog)

Summary: You and your service dog meet Tim and Kojo during a walk. The dogs force you and Tim to keep meeting, but neither of you mind. When you're late for a walk because of an emergency, Tim decides he would like to be more than walk-buddies.

Warnings: r has a service dog for unspecified reasons, r passes out and goes to the hospital, mostly fluff! unplanned Shania Twain reference

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Match my shoes or complement?” you ask your dog.

She barks once and raises her left paw to point to the grey booties you’re holding. You nod and put the other pair away before kneeling before her. She raises one foot at a time so you can put her shoes on to protect her paws from the concrete outside. Your doctor told you going on walks could be beneficial for your mental and physical health, and your service dog seems to enjoy them just as much as you do.

“Ready to walk?” you ask as you stand.

Rather than barking to answer, she runs to the end cabinet in your kitchen and sits. Her leash and your small medical bag are inside, and you shake your head in amusement. Once your bag is on your back and her leash is clipped to her harness, you exit the back door and lock it behind you.

“Let’s go, girl.”

Tim sighs as he shifts his truck into park. His shift was hectic, but he knows Kojo has been trapped inside and would like a walk. The weather is nice today, so it would do Tim some good to get outside too, he thinks.

As Tim suspected, Kojo is bouncing excitedly and full of energy when he enters. Kojo runs to the shelf holding his harness and leash, then back to Tim. “I know, I know. Let’s do it, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo.

They leave a few minutes later, and Tim takes a deep breath as Kojo leads the way. The neighborhood isn’t busy this time of day, so Tim can relax a bit and follow Kojo rather than dictate where they go while actively looking for any threats.

Your service dog stops when another dog barks happily. You look away from the butterfly you were watching and smile when you see a man walking a dog. His dog seems interested in meeting your dog, and you click your tongue to signal her to keep walking.

“Kojo, no,” the man says, pulling the leash tight to his side.

“Hello,” you greet kindly.

“Hi,” the man replies, dipping his head in greeting. “Kojo.”

“Beautiful dog,” you add.

“He thinks that means he can do whatever he wants. Sorry, he likes meeting other dogs.”

“He’s fine,” you promise.

“She’s working, Kojo,” he whispers harshly.

“He can come over,” you offer. “She’s sweet, and she can multitask.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The man loosens his grip on the leash and steps toward you. Your dog wags her tail quickly, slapping your leg every time she does. She sits, and Kojo flops down as they introduce themselves as dogs do.

You extend your right hand and tell the man your name and your dog’s name.

“I’m Tim, and that’s Kojo,” he replies. “We usually have more manners.”

Your dog steps over Kojo’s back legs to stand over him, and you chuckle as you say, “We don’t.”

“I haven’t seen you over here before.”

“Our walk times differ daily,” you explain. “I should start coming out now, though, because there’s no one else.”

“That’s why we love it.”

Your dog stands quickly and presses her nose into your thigh. Time to go home. “That’s my cue,” you tell Tim. “Maybe we’ll see you and Kojo on another walk soon.”

“That’d be nice. Enjoy the rest of your day,” Tim agrees. You smile as your dog leads you back the way you came. Tim is nice, his dog is adorable, and they exude comfort. You truly wouldn’t mind running into him again, you decide.

As you leave, Tim watches you go, and Kojo does too. Kojo looks up at Tim and pants happily.

“Good boy, Kojo,” Tim compliments. “But we need to talk about your manners. Service dogs can’t always hang out, bud.”

Kojo tilts his head as his ears perk, and Tim shrugs. He doesn’t know why you have a service dog, but it doesn’t matter. You do.

“We’re both going to be thinking about them for a while aren’t we?”

Kojo barks in return, and Tim sighs. There are worse things to think of.

Tim falls asleep thinking of you and wakes with a smile on his face. Kojo jumps onto his bed with his leash in his mouth, and Tim assumes he’s thinking about you and your dog, too. When Angela and Lucy started joking that Tim and Kojo were exactly the same, just different species, he didn’t expect to prove them right so easily.

“Fine, fine,” Tim concedes when Kojo moves to stand on his chest. “A quick walk before work. They won’t be there, though.”

Tim shakes his head as Kojo leads him to the same stretch of sidewalk where they met you last night. You’re nowhere to be seen, as expected, but Kojo keeps walking.

“Good morning, Kojo.”

Tim looks up quickly when he hears your voice, and your smile is stronger than any coffee he’s ever tried. He returns your smile and steps closer. Kojo greets your dog happily, and they step into the grass-covered yard beside you.

“Good morning to you, too, Tim,” you add.

“Good morning. Didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“This one couldn’t stop thinking about Kojo,” you explain, pointing to your dog. “And my doctor wants me to walk more, so win-win.”

“They’re best friends now, aren’t they?” Tim asks.

You turn at the same time as him, and your arm presses against his as you watch your dogs play together.

“They certainly are. Do you think they’ll keep waking us up to see each other?”

“Kojo will.”

“She will, too.”

“Well, I have to get to work, but it was great seeing you. Kojo appreciates your early morning walk.”

“What do you do?” You scrunch your nose and add, “Sorry, if that’s too personal you don’t have to answer.”

“Not at all,” Tim assures. “I’m a cop.”

“I knew it,” you reply.

“What about you?”

You give him a quick overview of what you do but leave out the part where sometimes your dog won’t let you. She does her job a bit too well sometimes and she’s already pulled you away from Tim once.

“Have a good day at work, Tim,” you say. “See you around.”

“You, too.”

Over the next week, you and Tim meet on walks once or twice a day. Your dog seems attuned to Kojo’s schedule and leads you to Tim every time you go for a walk. Within a week, you and Tim decide to walk together rather than stand in one place and interrupt your walks.

“I- this may be too forward,” Tim begins as you walk beside him.

“May not be,” you counter.

“Would you want to exchange numbers? It could be easier to let these two partners in crime meet up if we can talk before,” he suggests.

“Don’t call them partners in crime! Then you’d have to arrest them.”

“I’m sure they’d get off with a warning.”

“Tim!” You chuckle before agreeing to exchange numbers.

When your fingers brush Tim’s as you hand him your phone, you suddenly understand why your dog wants to see him and Kojo every day. You could get used to life at his side.

“I tried to leave last night to run to the store, but Kojo wouldn’t let me pass his leash,” Tim tells you as he returns your phone. “Had to take him for a walk before I could go get dinner.”

“Is he that convincing?” you inquire.

“He’s that bossy.”

“I wonder if he gets it from you,” you muse playfully.

“His former owner. Friend of mine from work, so I can blame that on her.”

“But all of his good traits are from you?” you guess.

Tim shrugs with a smile, and you bump your shoulder against his. These walks are doing you more good than your doctor anticipated. Your dog hasn’t alerted you to any health-related threats in days, which you attribute directly to walking with Tim and Kojo.

“Tim…” could we be more than neighbors who walk their dogs together?

Tim says your name, matching your tone as you return to your starting place.

“I just wanted to ask if we could meet again tonight. For another walk, to wear them out before bed?” you suggest, rather than saying what you want to.

“Text me the time.”

You nod and return home with a smile on your face. Though you have plenty you could do, you waste most of the day staring at the clock and looking forward to meeting Tim and Kojo again.

The leash hangs limply from your hand after you retrieve it from the cabinet. Your health took a sudden dip about an hour ago, but you’re trying to stay strong enough for the walk. Paws thud on the floor behind you, and when she presses her snout firmly into your thigh, you lower your hand toward her head.

“I know,” you mumble weakly. “I know, girl. But we can walk, right?”

She barks before she tugs on your shirt with her teeth. You shake your head, and she wraps a paw around your calf. Despite your need to see Tim, you know she’s right, and you carefully lower to the floor. As soon as you sit, your dog licks your cheek and presses her nose to your chest, but her whines are muffled as your eyes flutter closed.

Tim has never been more excited to walk Kojo than he is today. He had a rough day at work, so he doesn’t hesitate to take Kojo out as soon as he arrives home. They get to your meeting spot early and wait. As your suggested time comes and goes, Kojo gets antsy. Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, but he doesn’t have any messages from you. He sends you one, but it goes unread until he turns the screen off.

Kojo starts pulling on his leash a few minutes later. His nose is lowered to the ground, so Tim gives him some slack in his leash. Kojo walks through your usual route but passes the place where you and Tim part ways. He stops in front of a house several blocks from Tim’s and looks at the yard before he leads Tim to the door.

“What are you doing, Kojo?” Tim asks.

A dog barks inside, and as the barking continues, growing louder as the dog nears the door, Tim recognizes the sound of the bark. It’s your dog. She scratches against the door and whines, and Tim realizes that if you’re late and your service dog is upset in your house, something happened to you.

He leads Kojo off the porch and calls for an ambulance as he rounds the house. The side door is unlocked, and as Kojo steps inside, Tim sees your hand against the floor, with a leash beside it. Tim pushes the door open quickly and barely manages to catch it before it breaks the window behind it. Tim drops Kojo’s leash, and Kojo lies beside your legs to provide comfort to you and himself. Tim has known for over a week that Kojo loves you but seeing you like this makes Tim question how he feels about you.

Tim says your name but gets no answer. “Hey, girl,” he tells your dog instead. “What do I need to do? Show me.”

She presses her nose against your pulse point, and Tim follows suit on the other side. Your heart rate is elevated, and your slumped position is likely making it hard to breathe. Tim gently moves you into a more comfortable position as Kojo moves with you.

Your dog moves away from you and pulls a cabinet open before dragging a small backpack to Tim. He unzips it and sees medication, water with minerals and electrolytes, and a small booklet with instructions on what to do in case something like this happens.

Tim lays the book open and begins working through the recommended actions. In his mind, he pleads with you – begs you – to come back to him. He can hear the sirens on the ambulance approaching when you finally blink your eyes open.

“Tim?” you ask softly. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t meet us on the walk,” he answers. “Kojo got worried.”

“Just Kojo?” you ask knowingly, brushing a thumb over the crease between Tim’s eyebrows.

“Ambulance is here,” Tim tells you. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You see your bag beside him and whisper to thank him. “Sorry, I missed our walk.”

“You’ll have to make it up to me when you feel better,” he replies.

His hand slips into yours as you and your dog are taken to the ambulance. He asks the EMTs which hospital they’re taking you to before he kisses your temple and heads back into your house to clean up the mess he made. The deep scratches on your front door will have to wait, but he was nearly as upset as your dog when he got inside. Kojo whines at the door with his leash dragging behind him, but Tim says, “We have to wait. She’ll call when she’s ready.”

The moment you get discharged, you call Tim. He agrees to pick you up before you even ask, and he and Kojo are waiting for you in the lobby when you’re pushed out of the elevator in a wheelchair.

“You can still walk, right?” Tim checks.

“Yes,” you promise. “And I’ll need lots of walks to feel better.”

Tim frowns, and you rush to tell him that you’re teasing. You feel much better, thanks to him, and the doctors said he helped you properly and with plenty of time to spare.

“They think I should keep you around,” you add quietly.

“Kojo would happily become your second service dog,” Tim replies.

“Thank you, Tim,” you say as he helps you into his truck. “For everything.”

He nods once before closing the door, and you sit back to watch Kojo get comfortable beside your dog in the backseat. He would look cute in a service vest and booties.

After a few days of hourly check-in messages from Tim, you feel as good as new. You text Tim as you leave your house, and inhale deeply as you enjoy your first walk since your impromptu hospital visit. Your doctor scolded you for even trying to leave when you knew that you needed to act, but when she heard you talking to Tim, she understood why you put someone else before yourself. You’re not supposed to do that again, though, doctor’s orders.

“Hey,” Tim greets when you turn a corner.

“Hi,” you reply. “Care to join us for a walk?”

“We’d love to.”

As you walk side-by-side with Tim, you allow your arm to press against his and your hands to brush as you move along the sidewalk. You talk to Tim about his day, he asks about yours, and along the way, you lose track of time. When you notice the sun dipping below the horizon, you realize that it’s time to get home.

“I needed this, Tim. Thank you,” you tell him as your turn to return home.

“Let me walk you home,” he offers. “Kojo and I can’t let two lovely ladies walk home alone in the dark.”

“Well, thank you.” After a few steps, you remember that you never told Tim where you live. “How did you find me?” you ask.

“I didn’t. Kojo did. He’s obsessed with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Kojo,” you tell him.

His tail wags faster at your attention, and you chuckle as Tim shakes his head. It seems like you reach your house much faster than usual, and it’s time to say goodbye to Tim and Kojo again.

“Would you like to go on a date?” Tim asks quickly as you stop by your door. “With the dogs?”

You open your mouth to reply, but Tim continues talking before you can.

“These walks are nice, but I’d like to try something more… if you’re willing,” he finishes.

You smile as you open your door. Leaning against it to keep it open, you say, “I’m willing. As long as the dogs are there.”

“Like they’d let us meet without them,” Tim scoffs.

“I’ll try not to have a medical emergency this time.”

“I’ll pick you up Friday night, around the same time as our walk?” Tim suggests.

“Sounds perfect. Goodnight, Tim, Kojo.”

“Goodnight,” Tim replies. As he turns to lead Kojo home, he says, “Say goodnight to our girls, Kojo.”

Our girls. You smile long after Tim leaves. If the walks impacted you this much, dating Tim will make spending time away from him and Kojo infinitely harder.

You text Tim before you fall asleep, looking forward to your first real date.

What happened to letting service dogs work?

Just before you drift off, you read Tim’s reply and your smile grows.

We’re her number 1 helpers. Besides, someone had to encourage you to take those walks your doc recommended.

A picture of Tim and Kojo accompanies the message, and suddenly, Friday seems an eternity away. You’ll just have to take as many walks as possible between now and then.

[princessbrunette]

okay so hi! i wanted to send in a lil jj and rafe prompt myself for the kook princess.

so i lowkey think that she gets tired of the beefing one day and she’s just all upset because she doesn’t know what to do or who to chose in this whole situation, so she just pulls a “if i can’t have you both i don’t want either of you” which was hard enough for her to do anyway because let’s be so real standing on business with RAFE & JJ is hell in itself. so she like really stands on business doesn’t come around either of them avoiding parties the whole nine until she ends up needing to go to midsommars or something kinda much like kie in season one her parents are making her go, so word gets around fast that she’s going because people haven’t seen her in a while and jj leaps on the opportunity to work with pope & heyward, so he can see her and obviously rafe is gonna be there regardless. she doesn’t come until late which gave rafe and jj enough time to at least come to a certain level of an agreement, she still avoids them all night staying with her parents and drifting to sarah whenever she got the opportunity. so she finally ends up going to the bathroom and they basically corner her (teamwork 🤣) and they talk to her and they both end up fucking her in the stall.

this!!!!! this is perfect. i never brought the two of them together bc i just thought it was too unlikely because they really don’t like eachother — but if they’re kinda forced together by reader giving them no other choice it seems more likely.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

jj practically jumps you in the corridor, appearing frantically infront of you in his lil waiter get up and starts dragging you to the bathroom.

“jj, no — i already told you—”

“just five minutes just — just hear me out for five minutes okay — c’mon, in you go, chop chop.” he pushes you into the bathroom before turning round and blinking at passersby who worriedly witnessed the low level kidnap. “nothin’ to see here alright just, carry on…” he excuses awkwardly before closing the door.

upon entering, to your surprise rafe is stood in the centre of the room with his hands in his pockets and lips pursed like he was forced to be there too. he perks up a little on your entry, eyeing you over. he speaks your name and you glance between the two boys nervously.

“damn, you— you look really beautiful i mean—” rafe begins as he edges towards you and you all but nearly stomp your foot, pointing to him with an angry pout.

“don’t!”

the oldest boy holds his hands up, slowing his pace as he approaches you, showing he comes in peace. “alright, alright… look we… just wanted to talk to you. ‘that okay?”

your eyes slide over to jj, who’s gazing at you with this desperate plea that makes you soften a little. you cross your arms and nod, and naturally the boys close in on you, shielding you from the rest of the room.

“trust me, okay— the last thing i wanna do is share you with rafe freaking cameron but,” the blonde runs a hand through his hair frustratedly as the cameron rolls his eyes. “you went goddamn… radio silent on us and i was worried, okay? are you seeing the level of concern you caused right now? ‘cus i’m standing next to rafe and my hands aren’t around his neck—”

“yeah like you could reach, buddy.”

“i’m like three inches shorter than you asshole i’on even wanna hear it right now ‘cus—”

“guys.” you interject sulkily, huffing a sigh out your nose.

“sorry, sorry— yes, so uh— to cut this thing short, maybe until you like, make a decision or whatever… we can alternate weeks with you?”

you gaze up at them from beneath your lashes unsurely. “like… you get me this week rafe gets me next week… and so on?”

“yeah i’m not thrilled about this guy gettin’ you at all but i’ll… i’ll take it.” rafe scuffs his shoe on the floor, uncharacteristically bashfully.

you think, and honestly as it was the best case scenario you nod, gaze flickering between the two of them.

“okay… just… want you both. missed you.” you don’t know who to look at, so you cement your stare to your shoes. there’s some shuffling of feet through the tense silence before you feel a pair of fingers gripping your jaw lightly, tilting your head up to them.

“look… why don’t you uh, why don’t you give maybank here a little kiss. alright? i’m— i’m actively showin’ you i’m cool with it.”

even jj’s brows lift in surprise, licking over his rubied lips as he watches you for permission. you let rafe’s hand drag you closer, before bringing your mouth to jj’s, locking lips. rafe’s hand switches to cup the back of your head, supposedly feeling this was the most control he could have in the situation. his eyes flutter in irritation as he watches jj slip you tongue and after a moment he pulls you back, immediately bringing your mouth to his— to kiss you sloppier and dirtier than the blonde.

jj’s eyes roll, licking over his lips once more. “jesus, dude — okay.”

you let out a pleased moan after a moment, just happy to have your favourite boys back with you, this time together — and rafe tugs you back with a smug smirk. you watch his eyes flutter up to the cubicle behind you, before his gaze moves to jj.

“get the door, yeah busboy?” he slaps jj on the back, and with his tongue in his cheek — he pushes the cubicle door open for the three of you to fit inside.

“watch it, douche.” he glares as rafe leads you in. it’s a squeeze, but it’ll do for now. the competitive nature in them both was flared up to ten, set on using this time as a way to prove themselves to you.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 13 part 2/2

masterpost

Given that Dr. and Dr. Fenton had taken him on a drive around town that legitimately climaxed with an on-foot chase of a hulking ghost who did not care to comment for their family blog, Jason thought that was actually kinda probable. If the Drs. had that technology, their kids would probably have access as well.

“Why not?” Tim said, sounding a bit defensive. “We know for a fact that there’s a few undead out there, zombie boy. And there’s a ghost affiliated with the JL.”

All solid points.

‘But there’s no way the good Doctors would be able to convince a ghost to do anything they wanted. Would the daughter have any better luck?’

Jason covered a laugh in his fist.

His ghostly experience so far consisted of:

Danny Phantom, who was very annoyed that Waters was trying to pay him tribute and not happy to see Jason, either.

The mysterious collaborator who hadn’t even wanted Jason to enter his tower.

Skalker, who spent the length of their acquaintance screaming and flying away at what appeared to be his top speed while Jack Fenton whooped and Dr. Fenton shouted questions from a megaphone.

“I get the vibe that they don’t really care to interact with the living,” Jason said, before Tim could get his knickers in a twist. “So my skepticism is in regards to the likelihood of a ghost agreeing to collaborate.”

“What, you think they’re all the same?” Tim said. His tone made it seem like he thought that was such an embarrassingly unintellectual idea that Jason should sink through the floor.

“I think there’s pretty good reasons there might be a trend.”

Tim made an unconvinced sound and changed the subject. “Since they have a similar area of interest, I want to look for a connection between the Fentons and Waters. They could be- Why did you laugh?”

A neon sign lit up across the street, sending a wash of purple light through the air. Jason shook his head. “The Fentons- the Dr.s Fenton, at least, strongly dislike Jeremy Waters.”

“Why did that come up?”

“No reason,” Jason lied airily. “Anyway, that’s not it. Could be some kind of rivalry. But I doubt they’d want to visit Waters in Arkham to give him their sympathies.”

Tim chewed that over for a moment. “Could be a rivalry. I gotta go, O’s hitting my line.”

“Stay safe out there.” Jason cut the conversation and settled in to think. He stuck his hands in his pockets and wished for something to fiddle with that wasn’t a weapon. It had poser vibes to stand around on a rooftop alone playing with a knife or a gun. If Oracle caught you on video, she would tint it blue, set it to some humiliatingly emo soundtrack, and send it around the hero community.

Not, uh. Not that that had happened to him.

He called in. “Hey, O, good evening.”

“Good to hear from you, Hood.” She sounded as serene as ever.

Jason fidgeted a little. “Anything I could help with?” He toed the front of his boot back and forth on the cement ledge for a moment, killing time by idly calculating how many seconds he’d have to engage a grapple if he fell from this height.

“Good news for Gotham, it’s a quiet night.”

He sighed.

“I know, I know,” O said sympathetically. “You got all dressed up in your dancing shoes-”

“And there’s no one to go out with,” Jason agreed. At the back of his mind he vaguely remembered that that…might not be true, actually. He made a dramatic sigh. “I might call it a night, then. No point staring at the city like some bat-eared creep. I don’t have any monologues to work on right now.”

“Oh, you got those all done? Good for you, little buddy.”

Jason resisted the urge to flip her off. She wasn’t even here.

“Stay safe,” he said, because the idea of ending a call without saying that always filled him with a terrible premonition that this would be the time the other person ended up shot in the head and gone forever. He blew out a long, slow breath when he was finally truly alone and reconsidered the thought he’d had earlier.

‘I haven’t messaged Phantom all this time. It might be a good night for it. It’s been most of a week. He won’t be annoyed that I’m checking in now.’

Yeah… Yeah, okay. Jason grappled down and made his way to where he’d stashed his bike. He got into his current residence and stripped out of his gear. He got out his phone and shot Phantom a text before he went into the shower. Not much, he didn’t wanna come across as desperate. Just a nice, casual, “Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!”

[lareynaderucorazon]

Gyutaro x Skimpy! Tomboy! Reader

Somnophilia, smut, dry humping, p in v

Guytaro is a horndog.

But you weren't really helping either.

The man initially fell in love with you when you were in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized tshirt, and your bonnet. This is also the version that he recognized you in most of the time as his girlfriend.

Yes, you were a bit of a tomboy, but you were also a girl goddammit. You had spouts where you wanted to dress up, do your hair, look fly,... they were just far and few.

Well, this was one of those moments now.

It's such a basic date really, you're just going to a bar with some of your friends so they could meet your boyfriend. And for some reason you just felt like dressing up real pretty, so you are. You started with the essentials, taking an everything shower, doing your hair just perfect, skincare + makeup, now came time for the outfit. You were torn between a black sleeveless bodycon dress with a slit, or an off the shoulder flowy dress that reached your midthigh.

While internally debating on your outfit, you received a text from Gyutaro. He was asking if you wanted to meet at the bar or at your place. A realization dawned on you, Gyutaro had never seen you dolled up. Sure, he had seen you with your hair done before and maybe some light makeup every once in a while, but you were always dressed casually. You smirked as you finally decided what to wear and texted him that you would hitch a ride with your friend before sending him the location.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Gyutaro on the other hand was also at a loss on what to wear. He didn't want to dress up super fancy and stand out, but he also didn't want to stand out for being too casual either. The man was going through an internal battle, he's never met his girlfriend's friends before, fuck he's never even had a girlfriend. He honestly believed it was a miracle you two were even dating. At first he thought it was a cruel joke from the heavens when your sister asked if he thought you were cute, but here he is now. He started picking at his skin from the nerves, then an idea popped into his head. He heavily debated on asking his sister for help, eventually deciding to swallow his ego and ask Daki for help.

After a grueling 10 minutes filled with ridicule, banter, and relentless teasing on his sister's part, Daki finally threw a pair of pants and a shirt at him. As she was leaving his room she also listed what cologne and shoes to wear.

The man was just happy to finally get some guidance. He quickly changed and attempted to do something with his hair, not liking any look before deciding to just fuck it and wear his hair how he usually does.

Once in his car he texted you that he was on the way before putting the location in his gps and taking off.

The ambiance in the bar was foreign to him. When he wanted to drink he would just pull on a dark hoodie and go to the nearest liquor store, never daring to set foot in a bar, let alone a club for the fear of ridicule. Gyutaro tried to calm his breathing while searching for his girlfriend, to no avail as you snatched his breath from him once he spotted you. He instantly recognized you despite your look vastly contrasting what he was used to. His eyes took what felt like hours analyzing every single thing about you, from your more bolder makeup style to that very tight dress you had on. He gurgled before quickly clearing his throat at the sight of your leg peeking out of your dress.

"Creep much?"

"Huh?"

He was completely caught off guard as a very handsome bartender who appeared to be in his mid-twenties stared at him with disdain.

"You've been staring at that girl for the past 5 minutes. Am I going to have to call someone to escort you off the premises?"

"Huh- no, she's my girlfriend."

The man scoffed before asking his coworker to bring someone over. At that a burly man appeared before walking up to him.

"Alright buddy, I think y've had enough, y're gonna hafta go now."

"I haven't even drank nothin' i just barely got here, why are you trynna kick me out?"

The man reached to grab a hold of Gyutaro's arm but he snatched his hand away, he fould his heart pounding in his chest and his face burning with both shame and embarrassment.

"Don't try n' escalate, just get out ya fil-"

"What's the issue here?"

Gyutaro exhaled in relief as he heard his favorite sound, your voice. He turned to see you, also noticing your group of friends behind you. Before he could explain to you that nosy ass bartender spoke up.

"This creep here was staring you up and down, but don't worry ma'am, we're handling the situation."

"Well I'd hope he'd be staring me up n' down, I didn't dress up for nothing. If my boyfriend being here is a bother then I guess you don't really want customers"

"I- we, uh.."

"I uh eh err, yeah see how stupid you sound? C'mon babe let's go somewhere else."

Gyutaro stumbled as you dragged him by his hand out of the bar.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

"Your drinks ain't even all that", you heard one of your friends exclaim after you. You would have laughed at that if you weren't so fucking pissed. You practically stomped all the way to the parking lot, stopping at your friends car before taking a deep breath and interlacing your fingers with Guytaro's. You silently appreciated your friends staying back a bit to give you two space to talk.

"M'sorry."

"What're you sorry for?"

"I ruined this, we were, if I wasn't-"

"Don't even, I don't give a fuck if you walked in with a goddamn furry suit that still wasn't cool."

He stayed silent as he didn't really know what to say.

Your lotion caught him off guard, it wasn't one you usually wore, he remembered them all. Then he paid attention to how you were practically glowing, now remembering how you looked as you took his breath away all over again.

He grabbed you by your hips, bringing you in and burying his head in your neck, just inhaling the new scent, committing it to memory. Your hands found their spot on his hips as you let him do his thing.

"This one's new"

You immediately knew what he was talking about.

"They don't sell it no more, save it for special occasions."

"And what was the special occasion?"

"You."

Butterflies. You identified after he confided that you made his stomach feel weird. He nuzzled into your neck, placing a gentle kiss to distract him from how hot his ears felt.

"Hey, totally not the best meeting but we're your girlfriend's friends."

He begrudgingly left his comfy spot, turning to meet your friends. You also turned to face them, now moving one hand to sit on the middle of his back. You introduced Gyutaro to your friends and vice versa. He was trying his best to give them his full attention but god you looked so sexy and smelled so fucking good. Your friends exchanged looks and giggles as they picked up on his behavior. Not that he was being subtle at all. The conversation flowed effortlessly and you all eventually decided that food was a great option.

"Rengoku's is still open?"

Rengoku's Ramen it is.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Your friends bid you and gyutaro farewell with the promise of hanging out sometime soon.

Driving with you in his passenger seat looking so irresistible was honestly dangerous Gyutaro thought to himself. His hand was constantly playing with your exposed thigh, on a high from actually having a good time with people that weren't you. He kept replaying points in conversation with your friends both as enjoying the memory and as trying to distract himself from pitching a tent. He was so fucking horny, god you had no idea how insane you drove him today. Fiercely protecting him, comforting him outside of the bar, your laughter and playful touches under the table. Gyutaro was absolutely smitten, and he didn't even care.

Even though Gyutaro took the long way, he had to arrive at your place eventually. He didn't want you to leave, but gave you a goodbye kiss regardless. You deepened the kiss until it turned into a makeout session.

"Stay the night."

You didn't have to tell him twice.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

As much as he loved the dress, he also appreciated you in a pair of boxers and a bralette.

You also appreciated him in his tight boxers.

The both of you were cuddling, just talking about the day and joking about your friends when you went silent. Gyutaro softly called your name but all he received back was a pause of silence. The man was lowkey kind of disappointed, hoping to get some tonight but he was just glad to be in our arms, eventually dozing off.

...

His body said otherwise though.

You groggily woke up from shuffling several times in the past couple of minutes. Your eyes slowly opened and it took some time adjusting your eyes before you could read the time on your alarm clock.

4:27?...

You closed your eyes and attempted to go back to sleep. Gyutaro had other plans. You furrowed your brows as you heard grunts and whimpering coming from behind you. You bathed in your position, your mind slowly beginning to wake. During the process you felt 2 different things, your damp underwear and your boyfriend rutting into you. You quickly understood the situation and contemplated your options. You could either...

a. wake him up

b. just try your best to ignore it and go back to sleep

c. relieve yourself

you chose option c. you both had talked extensively about what you both could do sexually and you noticed the way he would always seem more interested when discussing somno. however, you just haven't had the chance to try it, until tonight.

Your hands pulled your boxers down from your hips and you wiggled them off the rest of the way, kicking them off of the bed onto the floor. You tenderly reached behind you, arching your back just enough to slither your hand in between Gyutaro's bulge and your ass. He groaned and rutted at the friction. You peeled his sticky boxers down and grabbed his member.

"fuh-"

You paused, waiting for him to wake up but he never did, so you continued. You spread your legs and situated his hard dick against your folds before clamping down your legs. You moaned at the presence of his dick against you.

Almost like if he was a sleeper agent, Gyutaro began rocking his hips against yours at a sluggish pace. Over time his thrusts became more erratic and sloppy, his grunts becoming louder and his voice needier. The friction and situation wasn't enough to draw you close to your orgasm so you reached your hand down and began to toy with your clit, occasionally swiping the precum from your boyfriends tip and using it to get yourself off.

"mmf... babe?" your boyfriends groggily husked into your ear, sending shivers down to your core.

"What're you doing?"

"You were dry humpin me in your sleep."

There was a pause of silence before he began mumbling apologies, using how sexy you dressed for him as an excuse for his behavior.

"Don't be sorry, it was really hot. You wanna continue?"

"fuck yes."

Gyutaro pulled out from between your legs and shifted your legs legs up, keeping you on your side. He aligned himself at your hole like it was second nature, groaning at how wet you were. You both moaned as he pushed himself inside. He paused so you could adjust to the feeling of him being inside you before he began moving. He shuddered as your walls clamped around his length, intensifying the pleasure he was feeling.

The scent of your sinful activity mixed with that new scent you were wearing drove him insane. He briefly pulled out, spreading your legs around his waist and delving right back into you. He bit his lip as you groaned from the deeper position. He situated his arms under you and nuzzled his nose in your neck, beginning to leave a trail of hickies, before starting his pace where he left off. The new position had you seeing stars as you tugged on his hair and locked your legs around him. Both of you were nearing your orgasms so he set a brutal pace, pistoning into you which caused your bead to loudly creak. Neither of you could care less about the nose you were creating when ecstasy was within reach.

Your orgasm came first, your walls spasming around Gyutaro's dick, causing his orgasm as well. The moans leaving him as he emptied his ballsack into you was downright filthy and you loved every second of it.

Both of you panted like dogs in heat, which wasn't that for off from the truth. Gyutaro chose to stay nestled inside of you as the both of you dazed off, this time staying asleep.

Ahh been a while since I wrote, hope this one turned out ok as this scenario has been plaguing my mind for months.

Not proofread.

[ambernotember]

A Knight’s Favour

For @bucktommyaupril - Fantasy AU

read below or on ao3

“Good morning Blaze,” Buck greeted his horse, rubbing his hand along the namesake marking.

Blaze whinnied at him and Buck chuckled, pulling an apple out of his satchel.

“Oh, you smelled that huh?” Buck teased as Blaze chomped the apple in two. He ate the second half and left a wet patch behind on Buck’s palm. “Now, we’re not going for a ride today, but I thought I’d stop by and give you another good grooming after you rolled around in the paddock yesterday.”

Blaze let Buck walk into his stall and groom him, but leaned heavily into him, his version of giving Buck a hug.

“Hey buddy,” Buck said softly, scratching between his ears. “The faster I groom you, the faster I can train, the faster I can come back, okay?”

“You know he can’t talk back,” Maddie said from outside the stall, bemused at her little brother’s habit of talking to his horse.

“Here to see Sir Howard?” Buck teased, ignoring her comment.

“No,” Maddie said, though the blush creeping up her cheeks said otherwise. “And you know he goes by Chimney.”

“And yet no one will tell me why he does.”

“Maybe one day when you’re older, Buckaroo,” Chimney said, appearing at the stall door. “Hi Maddie.”

“Hi,” Maddie said. They smiled at each other and Buck turned back to Blaze, ignoring the flirting happening behind him. He picked up Blaze’s brush and moved it in circles through his hair, brushing out remnants of the grass and dirt from his roll in the paddock.

Blaze nosed at him whenever he got close enough, huffing into Buck’s curls. By the time he’d finished brushing Blaze, Chimney had moved on to whatever he had to do that day, and Maddie was still hovering by the stall door.

“If you’re going to stay here, can you pass me the hoof pick that’s out there?” Buck asked.

“A girl can’t visit her brother?” Maddie asked, handing over the requested tool.

“Mm, she could, but she’s not,” Buck teased. “You can talk to him without using me as an excuse.”

Maddie hummed noncommittally.

“He likes you too,” Buck offered.

“He said that?”

“I mean, not to me, but I heard him talking to Hen.”

“I will take that under advisement.”

Buck resigned himself to at least another month of unsubtle flirting. He lifted Blaze’s front left hoof to clean it and frowned. He gently prodded the shoe with the pick, and it moved slightly upwards. He tested it again and saw that a nail had loosened.

“Change of plans, Blaze,” Buck said, putting his foot down and straightening up. “We are going to the blacksmith.”

“Going to use your horse to flirt, are you?” Maddie asked.

“No, his shoe is loose. Flirting while I’m there will just be a bonus,” Buck smirked at her.

Maddie wrinkled her nose at him and Buck laughed.

“Hey, at least you don’t need to be there.”

“Goodbye, little brother,” she said, rolling her eyes at him as she went off to meet Hen.

Buck hooked a lead to Blaze’s halter and walked him out of the barn and in the direction of the blacksmith. He could hear it before he could see it, the rhythmic sound of the hammer hitting metal ringing out in the early morning air.

He tied Blaze’s lead to the hitching post outside the blacksmith and leaned against the open door, watching Blacksmith Kinard work on the piece in front of him. Buck stayed silent until he was done working what turned out to be a sword, plunging it into barrel of water next to his work station.

“Morning,” Buck called out as Kinard wiped his forehead with a rag.

“Sir Evan!” Kinard turned around, startled. “I thought you were at the barns this morning.”

“Blacksmith Kinard, you know I asked you to just call me Evan,” Buck teased, the flirty tone in his voice obvious to anyone within earshot.

“And what did I say about you calling me Tommy?” Tommy asked, his eyebrow arched.

“You’re working,” Buck pointed out. “I thought the title appropriate.”

“Are you here for my services? Your new breastplate isn’t ready yet, you know that.”

“Actually, Blaze is about to throw a shoe. I was hoping you could take care of it?”

“Oh, of course,” Tommy said. “Let me just grab my tools.”

“Wait,” Buck said, moving closer and taking his hands. “Don’t I get a good morning kiss? You were already gone when I woke up.”

Tommy chuckled but kissed him, though it was much more chaste than Buck would have liked.

“That’s it?” Buck pouted.

“Evan, I’m at work. If you’d woken up earlier this morning…” Tommy trailed off.

“Fine, we’ll continue this at home tonight,” Buck promised.

Tommy released his hands to pick up his tools and a new horseshoe. “Let’s get Blaze sorted out, shall we?”

He followed Buck outside to where Blaze was waiting for them. “Hmm,” Tommy said, looking at the horseshoe in question. “I think we can just replace the nail, not the whole shoe. Do you mind standing at his head to help keep him calm?”

“He’ll be good,” Buck promised, holding Blaze’s halter and petting his nose.

“He always is,” Tommy assured him. He quickly had the old nail out and hammered in the new one, bending it into place.

“Thank you,” Buck said, pulling Tommy in for another firm kiss once he had straightened up and his hands were free.

Tommy’s hands came up to cup Buck’s face, holding him in place. Buck sighed into the kiss, not pulling back until Tommy released him.

“See you for dinner?” Buck said.

“Absolutely,” Tommy promised.

“And my breastplate will be done soon?” Buck waggled his eyebrows at Tommy.

“Just needs some finishing touches,” Tommy said. “A permanent favour, for one.”

“You’re going to etch it for me?” Buck asked, eyes soft.

“As long as you want that.”

“I always want you with me,” Buck said. “That would be perfect.”

tag list: @chimneyz @bucktommyyendgame @desert--moonchild @swagmaster9k @geekwarrior107 @racerchix21 @fan-of-a-lot @bybobbysbeard @adhd-dean @styxhuntress @owlgirl495

interact with this post if you would like to be added/removed

[anon-sect]

Picture source: @bmci-blog

Diego had set up two glasses of cold water. One in front of himself and the other in front of Ricardo. Also, two small pieces of hot chili pepper on a small plate in front of each of them. "First to grab the glass of water loses. The loser has to do whatever the winner says. Deal?" Diego spoke. "Deal." Ricardo responded back.

Both eat their pieces of hot chili pepper, chewed and swallowed it. Both waited to see you who would grab their drink of cold water first. Soon the flame was getting the best of Ricardo. He quickly grabbed his glass of water and was guzzling it down fast. Diego just laughed as he then grabbed his glass to tone down the hot flame on his tongue. He lasted a lot longer than Ricardo.

"Okay, you won, so what do you want me to do?" Ricardo asked his friend.

Diego smiled. "I want you to let me turn you into a pair of shoes for me to wear since I won. I get to wear to loser on my feet for a whole week." He stated his request.

"Are you serious? Don't you want something else?" Ricardo asked.

"Nope, be my shoes." Diego responded back as he opened up his TF Pro Max app. He put in the setting.

"Okay, but you promise just for a week?" Ricardo asked back. Diego nodded.

Diego hit the flash and watched as Ricardo was instantly a pair of white shoes on the floor. "Just perfect for my feet. I will wear you every day for a full week, buddy. I hope you don't mind the smell of my socks and feet. It's what my shoes have to deal with on a regular." He laughed as he tried on his new shoes. He loved how comfortable they fit on his feet. He began to walk around in them. Human transformed shoes were very comfortable to walk in, he thought to himself. He was going to enjoy the whole week of wearing Ricardo on his feet.

Ricardo found his friend's socks to be rather foul smelling. It smelled like he hasn't changed them in a few days. He could see the dinginess pressed up against his insole face. He could feel every surface the sole of his new form was pressed up against as Diego walked around in him. The pressure and pain of each step was tremendous. He now knew what his shoes had to endure when he wore them. It was a good thing that this was only to be for a week. He didn't know if he could do something like this for a lifetime.

After the first day, Ricardo found a change in him. Nothing hadn't changed. His friend was still wearing dingy old socks, and he could feel everywhere Diego stepped. The change was that he was starting to get attracted to how his friend's stinky socks and feet smelled. The odor would sometimes get worse when Diego's feet would sweat in the hot sun. Yet, for some reason, it wasn't bothering him anymore. He was enjoying it. His existence under his friend's feet was starting to get pleasurable despite the pain he was still enduring.

Three days in their bet, Diego found Ricardo to be the best shoes he had ever worn. At the end of the day, his feet no longer hurt at all. To reward him, he would place the socks he wore that day into the sneakers for Ricardo to sniff all night long while he slept.

When the week was over, Diego kept his promise. He used the app to revert Ricardo back to normal. "So how was it for you, being my shoes?" He asked, wondering what it was like.

"I first, I hated it. After the first day, I started to like your foot stench. Soon, it became an attractive aroma to me. I wanted more of your stinky socks and feet." Ricardo paused, thinking about the last seven nights, having to smell foul socks all night long. "Especially, forcing me to smell your stench all night long while you slept was nice. Being your shoes weren't so bad eventually." He added.

Diego was a little surprised at his answer, but it got him to thinking. "If you like it so much, we could do this on a bi-weekly basis. I could wear you for a week or just a few days or so. What do you think?" He asked Ricardo.

"Oh, yes, I would love that, but next time can it be two weeks as your shoes. I kind of became addicted to your stinky feet." Ricardo quickly answered.

"It's a deal. I will let you be human for the next two days, then it's back on my feet for two weeks straight." Diego spoke up, so looking forward to wearing his favorite pair of shoes again.

[bellaxgiornata]

It's been a bit since I've posted one of these (or have even been hearing the guys), but Matt decided to show up unannounced this morning in that fake apartment filled with fictional characters that exists solely in my head in a way that couldn't be ignored. And he wasn't alone...

(My brain is rebooting as I try to get those two Tuna-Tober fics edited to post hopefully soon. Thank y'all for being patient. I'm still behind on answering messages--thank you constant illnesses and the holidays. Promise I'm not ignoring any of y'all).

[Matt striding into the room in his black suit]

Jax (smirking as he leans back on the couch, spreading his legs while throwing an arm over the backrest): Showing up in pajamas this time? Think that's gonna suddenly get her attention? You look ridiculous.

Matt (huffing an amused breath): Think I know her better than you do, buddy.

Jax (cocking his head to the side and arching a brow in challenge): That why it's just been me here for weeks? 'Cause she hasn't written a damn thing for you in a while. So now you gonna throw a fit about that?

[Frank shoves the front door open, stepping inside followed by Michael. Both men immediately glare at Jax comfortably resting on the couch, one of his shoes now perched on the coffee table. Frank’s eyes zero in on the shoe before he makes his way over, kicking it off with a booted foot.]

Frank (growling): She don't like shoes on the furniture, asshole. Stop fuckin' the place up.

Michael (speaking to Matt but glaring at Jax): This the bastard ya said been stayin' here while we were gone? Looks like a right prick.

Jax (expression darkening as he leans forward on the couch): Seems to me none of you fuckers were comforting enough over the past few weeks.

Frank (jaw tightening): Better watch your goddamn mouth, blondie.

Michael (glancing at Matt as he stalks his way to the couch beside Frank): The hell are ya wearin'? What happened to the red suit?

Matt (smirking and unphased): I'm doing something here, just trust me.

Frank (still focused on Jax): What makes you think you're so damn comforting? The fuck you know about the stress of raisin' kids?

Bella (rubbing my forehead as I make my way into the room): Would you all just quiet down? I've got a migraine that's been a persistent pain in my ass for over two and a half months and the yelling isn't helping. Also, Jax has two kids, Frank.

Michael (quirking a brow at me at the information): Ya really got a type there, don't ya, love?

Bella: Okay, ha ha, morally gray men are my weakness. Especially if they're dads. Now can y'all play nice while my brain tries to boot back up? It's been months since I've written or edited anything and the arguing isn't helping. So just, like, get comfortable with each other right now, alright?

Jax (smug as he puts a foot back up on the coffee table): Oh, I'm getting real nice and cozy, darlin'.

[Frank grunts and kicks his foot off the coffee table again.]

Frank: Watch it before I get curious to see how flammable your hair is.

Michael (resting a hand on Frank’s shoulder and shaking his head): Not helpin' things, Frank. Just ignore him.

Bella: Great. So just...play nice for a bit. Okay?

[All of them give each other unsteady looks, clearly knowing that's not about to happen.]

Bella (glancing over at Matt): And you just...stay in that.

Matt (a satisfied smirk curling up his lips): Sure thing, sweetheart.

[bunnysbrainrot]

No Vacancy - Day One

Relationship: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Content: fluff, nothing spicier yet

Summary: Separated from Dean and Castiel, you and Sam are on your own. Now paired up, you spend a few days in a motel. The only problem? The last room available only has one bed.

A/N: shout-out to all the Sam lovers, this one’s for y’all (me included tbh) **forehead kiss**

————

“Well,” Sam said, his hands gripping the steering wheel, “I think this is literally the only motel in town.”

And he was right. The two of you had scoured the area for over an hour, driving block after block for any other place to stay. This lone motel was far from where you needed to be for the case, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“That’s what you get in a small town, I guess,” you reply, grabbing your backpack from the floor of the car. Of course, Dean couldn’t fathom letting the two of you borrow Baby, so you had to get another ride. Thankfully, Sam had his own car in the garage of the bunker, a newer one with polished leather seats yet less flashy than the Impala.

Sam parked the car and cut off the engine, letting out a sigh.

You looked at him, tilting your head in concern, “At least we can rest, now. We can shower up and turn in for the night.”

Sam nodded in relieved agreement - the past few days had worn you both thin, exhausted and in need of proper sleep. The two of you stepped out of the car, grabbed your duffles from the back seat, and walked to the lobby of the motel to rent your room.

The clerk at the desk was not a talker, the silence in the room feeling uncomfortably thick. Sam nodded to the man with a terse smile and guided you back outside.

“That guy definitely wants to go home,” joked Sam. At last, you reached room 115, your final spot for the day. You stretched your aching neck as Sam unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Crap.”

“What is it?”

“I think we were given the wrong room,” Sam continued, stepping out of the room to let you peer inside. A single king sized bed sat against the wall, with no other place to sleep. You turned to Sam, who had already made his way back to the main office. You waited for him for a few moments, seeing him return with a remorseful look.

“What’s up?”

“That’s the only room left,” Sam explained, “you wanna stay here anyway? They didn’t have a cot, but we can figure something out.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

You waved dismissively, giving Sam an embarrassed smile, “Don’t worry, we’re both adults here. Sharing a room doesn’t bother me.”

Sam looked at you for a moment, contemplating the next step. He shrugged and opened the door to 115 again, leading you inside.

The room was small and sparsely furnished - just the bed, an armchair, and the TV sat on a minuscule set of drawers. You placed your bag down next to the lonesome armchair, and sat down to remove your shoes.

In front of you, Sam paced at the foot of the bed.

“They, uh… didn’t have a cot, so I’m not sure how you’d want to go about this.”

You kicked your boots to the side and glanced up at him.

“Scared of sharing a bed, Sam?”

If you were being honest, you were petrified of the idea. Ever since joining this self-proclaimed ‘Team Free Will’, Sam had been the one you’d gotten closest to. Before they took you in, you had been more reserved and quiet. A more nerdy type of person; Sam was the perfect guy to buddy up with. You both had a passion for research, to Dean’s dismay.

“So we finally have a chick on the team, and we get another nerd?” He had teased.

Despite Dean giving you shit for it, you had never felt more welcome into a group. There was a sense of purpose, a motivation to save people from monsters. With your help, the world would be a safer place for those unaware of what lurks in the shadows.

Bringing you back to reality, Sam cleared his throat.

“I’m not, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You retorted, “And why would I be uncomfortable with you?”

He quipped, “I mean, how often have we been forced to share a bed?”

He had a point, and your brave façade of nonchalance wouldn’t last much longer. Sure, if you both kept to a side of the bed, fully clothed, it would leave the fewest issues. But the butterflies in your stomach told you that this may not be something you could handle easily.

Your mind raced back to a memory of a case three months back, out in Tennessee. It was another shapeshifter, and it was hard for Sam and Dean to gather intel about much of anything. It was Dean’s foolish idea to send you and Sam to question the local townsfolk, masked as a tourist couple to keep your anonymity to a maximum. That time spent with Sam opened your eyes to what you had been missing for a shamefully long time. Love, or at least what felt like it.

Although it had been an act, the sweet gestures Sam had to uphold for the charade won your heart. He opened each door for you, kissed your cheeks, held your hand, the whole nine. Everything he had done drove you wild. Except, the one thing he never did was press his lips to yours. It seemed like a sick game of Dean’s pairing you up like that. You made sure to give him shit for it, telling him how embarrassing it was to have two friends act like a couple. What Dean didn’t know was the secret gratefulness you had for his plan.

At one point Dean did suggest you liked Sam, to which you denied, fumbling over your words like an idiot. He had shrugged it off, but now you wondered if that interaction inspired him to cut you off from him and Castiel. You silently cursed that damn Winchester for it.

“Never, but it’s just for a couple nights, right? We’ll share ghost stories and braid each other’s hair. It’ll be fun,” you joked, having walked over to Sam and patting his arm.

You went to the bed and furiously fluffed each pillow - the ones in motels were notoriously limp. Next you shook out the blanket. You hated the way it stayed cold when it’d been pulled taught to the mattress all day. Of all fun facts about you, Sam found that the most endearing. He hadn’t told you before, but he’d always been keen on your quirks. Simply put, he loved that he wasn’t the ‘weird one’ anymore.

Getting comfortable on the bed, Sam flopped down, still fully dressed in those tough denim jeans and signature red flannel. Your eyes grazed over him as he closed his eyes from exhaustion. Your pajamas were in your duffel, so you fumbled for them before heading to the bathroom to change. The sound of the TV muffled against the door - it seemed to be one of those dramatic crime shows you and the brothers scoffed at.

Pajamas was a loose term for the oversized t-shirt and mid-thigh sleepshorts you wore to bed. If you were alone maybe you’d have worn far less. Sam had removed his shoes, at the very least. You dimmed the lamp in the corner of the room and settled onto the bed. Then that was it, the exhaustion of today had finally gotten to you. It took everything in you to not let your mind drift off to sleep.

“We gotta go into town tomorrow?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah,” his voice honeyed with a groggy softness, “we should talk to the families of the victims. Figure out if these really were ‘accidents’.”

“FBI? Police? Ooh, maybe church officials?”

Sam let out a breathy laugh at your joke, the husk of his voice reverberating through you. God, it could be absolute torture to be around him at times. When the stress of hunting melted away, and you two could be your real selves.

“Just FBI, Cas is on standby as our ‘supervisor’.”

You looked to him fully, “Cas is our supervisor? And Dean actually trusts he can do that? Cas doesn’t know the first thing about the FBI.”

“Eh, Dean thought it could be good for the ‘people skills’,” Sam replied, finally opening his eyes at turning his head to you. Suddenly the two feet between you felt like mere inches. Your breath caught in your throat; you couldn’t reply even if you tried, so you opted for a small smile. Sam countered it with one of his own - the flashy grin that melted your heart more each time.

“We’re gonna have to get up so early. I’m not too excited for that.”

Sam’s face softened, his voice lowering, “We should get some sleep, then. You good with that side of the bed?”

You nodded, rising out of bed to switch the lamp off. The light from the TV drew Sam’s sights to you, loosely shrouded by your shirt and shorts. His eyes raked over your bare legs, wandering up your thighs until your shorts stalled his imagination. Sam followed suit and stood, but walked to the bathroom with a handful of clothes plucked from his bag.

A moment later he returned to see you under the covers, hunched over from the cold. Whatever those shitty detectives said on the TV drowned out as you noticed Sam. Just then you realized you had never seen him wear anything but a suit or his regular garb. Even in boxer shorts and a black t-shirt, he managed to catch your eye.

He caught your eye contact and smiled once more, that familiar ache in your chest growing stronger. You reached over and lifted the covers for him, letting him settle on his side of the bed.

“Do you sleep with the TV on?” You asked softly.

“No, do you?”

You gave him a small laugh, closing your eyes, “Nope. Keeps me up too late.”

Sam smiled. A part of him was relieved that he could get some proper rest with you here. Dean had the habit of leaving the TV on, depriving him of countless hours of sleep.

Even though they were rare, Sam appreciated these moments alone with you. It was easy to be with you. It was easy to laugh, to open up, to ramble on about whatever lore he had obsessed over. He loved the way your eyebrows tugged together when you didn’t understand something, and the way you tried piecing words together before asking your questions.

The A.C. unit cranked on beside the bed, pumping freezing cold air on your back. You shivered, curling into yourself to keep the warmth in.

Sam’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Hey, are you cold? I can turn the A.C. off.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll warm up in a minute,” you insisted. Sam sighed, knowing you wouldn’t say yes, and turned the unit off.

He quickly settled back into bed, letting out a shuddering exhale. You waited until he shifted under the covers to speak.

“You cold, too?”

“Maybe just a little bit.”

In the faint light of the TV you could make out his smile. A part of your mind drifted off to a place where that smile met you every day, lounging around in bed. Sam’s hands would run across your skin and tangle into your hair, pulling your mouth to his before making you breakfast.

The room dimmed as the television went silent. You and Sam shifted under the covers for a moment before getting fully comfortable, the silence of the room felt like a bated breath.

Sam broke it first, “These blankets don’t really do their job, do they?”

You replied to him, “Not a damn bit. It’s freezing in here.”

“You can, uh… move closer if you need to,” his voice wavered. The silhouette of his form moved to face you, dimly lit by the light from street lamps in the parking lot. You could make out his sharp cheekbones and the chestnut brown hair draped around his neck.

When another shiver won your body over you took the offer, moving closer to Sam until your arms touched. Now inches from one another like you’d wished, your mind went blank.

It took everything you had to remind yourself what this was, well, wasn’t. This wouldn’t be the lust-driven breakthrough you had hoped for. Nor would it be the time for Sam Winchester to take you the way you ached for. An awkward, strictly business sleeping situation.

You let your mind wander off, the waves of exhaustion turning into the gentle lull of sleep. You could’ve sworn you felt Sam’s arm wrap around your waist, keeping you warm.

————

By the time you woke up, Sam was still fast asleep. You had never seen him like this up close, with his eyes fluttered shut and breathing slowed. The image painted itself into your memory.

You were right, though, Sam had laid his arm over you. And now both had enveloped you close to his chest, rising and falling steadily against your ear. It took twenty more minutes for Sam to wake up.

He stirred until he noticed you flush against him, and he stilled completely. You wiggled in his grip to look up at him.

With a groggy smile you greeted him, “G’morning.”

“Hey,” he said, voice still thick with sleep, “sleep okay?”

You gave him a simple nod, regaining your composure. You scooted yourself away to give him the space that should’ve been there all night. Even though a part of you crumbled as you did, you padded out of bed to the bathroom.

“At least we know to turn off the A.C. tonight. Maybe a room with two beds will open up while we’re out, and we can switch.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak before you closed the bathroom door. What he was going to say escaped him.

He just hoped no other rooms opened up before the evening.

Thank you for your support, everyone! Day two will be here soon

- Bunny

[peleksstuff]

escape 1v | rafe cameron x pogue! reader

*gifs not mine*

just as i promise with the 50notes a lil bit late but yeah and also ty for those people reblogging really appreciate getting my writings out there and also for the rafegirlies out there for just reading this series yeah i think thats it or else too much yapping ahaha go ahead and read this ☺️

~~~~~~~

one

two

three

"Dance with me."

You blinked up at him, caught off guard.

"What?"

——————————-

It was the kind of party where everyone who mattered on the island was in attendance—everyone except the Pogues. But you weren’t there to party. You were there to work.

Dressed in a white shirt and black slacks, you blended in with the other waitstaff, balancing trays of champagne as you moved through the crowd of well-dressed Kooks.

You kept your head down, avoiding any unnecessary attention, but it was hard not to notice the familiar faces of the people you usually avoided.

Sarah Cameron was laughing with her friends near the buffet, and Topper was mingling with some other Kooks near the entrance. Your stomach tightened when you spotted Rafe standing by the bar, drink in hand, talking to a couple of his buddies.

The last thing you wanted was to run into him, especially in front of this crowd.

As you passed by, you felt his eyes on you. You glanced up for a second, meeting his gaze, and to your surprise, Rafe smiled at you.

It wasn’t a mocking smirk or the usual arrogant grin he gave to people. It was just… a smile. Simple, unguarded.

For a moment, you were taken aback, but then you found yourself smiling back, just a small curve of your lips.

Neither of you said anything, and you quickly continued with your work, moving to the next table. Rafe turned back to his conversation, but something about that brief exchange left a strange warmth in your chest.

Across the room, Pope and Kiara were standing together, catching the moment out of the corner of their eyes.

"Did Rafe just smile at a Pogue?" Pope asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Kiera glanced between you and Rafe, her expression just as confused.

"Yeah… that’s rare," she muttered, shaking her head before they both moved on, equally baffled by what they had witnessed.

You were too busy focusing on the job to notice them, though. The night carried on, and you weaved through the crowd, offering drinks and making sure to stay out of trouble.

Everything was going smoothly—until you accidentally stepped on the shoe of a well-dressed girl in an emerald green gown.

She gasped dramatically, looking down at her foot as if you had just committed the worst crime in the world.

"Are you serious?" she snapped, her voice loud enough to catch the attention of a few people nearby.

“You stepped on my shoes, you filthy—ugh, I can’t believe this.” She exaggerated her disgust, wiping at her shoes dramatically.

You stepped back, heart racing. "I’m really sorry—"

"Sorry?" she interrupted, her tone dripping with disgust.

“Do you even know how much these cost? Of course, you don’t. You probably can’t even afford shoes that aren't falling apart."

The humiliation hit you hard, and you felt the eyes of the crowd on you, the heat rising to your face.

You could feel the tears prickling behind your eyes, but you swallowed them down, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"I’m sorry," you mumbled again, trying to hold it together.

Before the situation could escalate, your supervisor appeared, stepping between you and the girl.

"Is there a problem here?"

The girl scoffed. "Your waitress is a disaster. She’s lucky I don’t demand compensation for my shoes."

"Apologies, ma’am. We’ll handle this," your supervisor said with a tight smile, before turning to you.

"Go to the back, now."

You nodded quickly, ducking your head and heading for the back door. You tried to push down the lump in your throat, hoping that your supervisor wouldn’t fire you.

You needed this job—this gig was one of the few chances to make some extra money, and losing it would be a blow you couldn’t afford.

You waited near the staff room, nervously tapping your foot, hoping that you’d just get a warning and not be sent home. But when the manager finally came back, his face was thunderous.

"You’re done for the night. Go home."

"Please, I really need this job. I didn’t mean to—" you started, but he cut you off.

"I don’t care. You’re out. Now."

Your heart sank, and you could feel the tears welling up again. Without another word, you went to the changing area, slipping back into your clothes.

The party music from the event drifted through the air as you stepped outside, heading to where your bike was chained near the back of the estate. As you fumbled with the lock, you heard the rumble of an engine behind you.

Rafe’s truck pulled up beside you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him stepping out.

He walked over, hands in his pockets, a familiar nonchalant expression on his face, but his eyes held something softer, something like understanding.

"Midsummers," Rafe said with a half-smile, "the worst, right? My father kicked me out."

You snorted, surprised at the casual admission. "Maybe because you were cornering a Pogue. JJ?"

Rafe laughed, a low, easy sound. "Yeah, you saw that? Surprised you didn’t save his ass."

You shook your head, smiling faintly.

"He’s a big man. He can handle himself. Which he did." You thought of Kiara and Sarah running off with the boys, probably causing some sort of chaos somewhere.

Rafe leaned against the side of his truck, watching you with that same relaxed gaze. "You’re not wrong."

For a moment, you just stood there, the tension from earlier slipping away as you bantered back and forth. It felt surprisingly easy, like the weight of the night didn’t matter anymore.

After a pause, Rafe’s eyes flicked toward the beach, then back at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked, nodding toward the sand in the distance.

You hesitated for a moment, but something about the way he was standing there, relaxed, open, made you nod.

“Sure.”

The two of you drove down to the shoreline, parking near the sand. The night sky was clear, the stars twinkling overhead as the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air.

You sat by the water, both of you with a beer in hand, the cool breeze offering a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the Midsummers event.

Rafe turned the radio on in his truck, and a soft melody floated through the night. You felt the weight of the day’s stress begin to fade, the peacefulness of the moment sinking in.

Then, without warning, Rafe stood and extended his hand to you.

"Dance with me."

You blinked up at him, caught off guard.

"What?"

He smirked, shrugging slightly. "C’mon. It’s a slow song. What’s the harm?"

For a second, you hesitated. But then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

The music played softly as Rafe’s hands settled on your waist, yours resting on his shoulders. It was awkward at first, neither of you saying much, but the longer you swayed to the music, the more the tension seemed to fade.

The world around you felt far away, the night closing in just the two of you, the sound of the waves and the distant hum of the music blending into something that felt almost… peaceful.

five

[birbmotherpigeon]

HERMIT UNIVERSITY socmed

Part 10

pov Scar

Today was the day! Scar had been waiting for this day since last semester. Auditions day. He already knew who he was aiming for Demitri, the charming conman? It was almost made for him! Scar arrived early to the music room they where using today. He had promised Ren and Martyn to help set up before the tek team comes. Although Scar wasn't sure if it was a tek team or just Zed and Cub since 6 people from last years tek team seemed to have quit over night.

"Mornin' Scar" Martyn greeted him, Scar was surprised anyone had arrived before him, until he remembered Martyn was basically the righthand man of Ren at this point.

"Mornin'" Scar greeted heartily he looked around not seeing Ren "Where's the king?" He asked, setting down his bag before sitting down. He rested his cane on the char beside him. Martyn let out a small huff at the nickname.

"Ren's running copies for the acting part of the auditions" Martyn answered turning to look at Scar fully "Why are you here so early?" He asked stapping whatever he was doing. Scar shrugs "Told Ren I'd help set up" Martyn takes a box of kables

"Good, Then you can help me set up the sound system before the band gets here" Martyn says, putting him straight to work.

pov Mumbo

Mumbo stood waiting at the entrance to his unofficial dorm. Despite being the least excited about the event, he was somehow the first one ready to leave.

"Zed, we need to leave now if you want to make it in time!" he called, glancing at his phone for the time.

A moment later, Zed poked his head out from the room he shared with Tango, his hair still a bit tousled.

"They can wait. They can’t start without us anyway," he replied, though he stepped out with a box of assorted audio supplies anyway.

Tango trailed close behind him, already slipping on his jacket.

“Skizz!” Tango called toward the hallway. A door slammed open, and their final roommate stumbled out, hopping on one foot while trying to put on a sock.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m here!" Skizz grumbled, hurriedly grabbing his shoes and sitting down to shove them on.

The four of them made their way across campus, energy gradually building with each step. When they arrived at the venue, they were greeted by a blond man in a green hoodie, his grin wide and mischievous.

“Zedaph!? Look at you, solving all our problems! I swear, I could kiss ya right now,” the man teased, then turned his gaze to the rest of the group. “Who’s this lot, then?”

Zedaph opened his mouth to introduce his friends, but before he could get a word in, Mumbo stepped forward from the back.

“Martyn?” he said, tilting his head, trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

Martyn squinted for a moment, clearly trying to place the voice—then lit up.

“MUMBO!?” he shouted, striding over and pulling him into a warm, crushing hug. “Oh husband, thou hath returned! Doth mine eyes deceive me?” he declared theatrically, drawing laughter from a few nearby students.

Mumbo chuckled, doing his best to return the hug despite the box in his arms. “I didn’t know you went to HCU,” he said with genuine surprise.

“Last-minute decision, really. Applied to theater—kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing,” Martyn admitted with a grin.

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, amused. “You? Choosing theater? Could never have guessed.”

The friends Mumbo had arrived with were now watching in silence, expressions ranging from amused to bewildered. Eventually, Tango broke the moment by clearing his throat.

"You guys know each other?" Zedaph asked, his curiosity piqued.

Before either could answer, Skizz piped up. "I’m more curious about the ‘husband’ thing.”

Impulse made an agreeing noise. “Yeah, that kinda stood out.”

“We’re old high school buddies,” Mumbo explained, brushing off the question with an intentionally vague tone.

Martyn, of course, wasn’t about to let that slide.

“Where we got married,” he added smoothly. “Oh, you should’ve seen Mumbo. He was a blushing bride.” He clutched his chest and swooned dramatically.

Mumbo let out a muffled laugh. “Pfft—as if! You were the bride.”

“No, no. It was definitely you. You wore the veil.”

“Only because you made me.”

They slid easily into casual banter, clearly having had this playful argument many times before. The rest of the group watched, partly entertained and partly confused.

Before they could reach the climax of the joke, someone across the room called Martyn’s name. He turned, gave a quick thumbs-up, then looked back with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, lads. We’ll have to do introductions later—the band just arrived,” he said, already in work mode. “If you could set up the master board and start on the mics, that’d be great.” He pointed toward the stage, then gave Mumbo a quick pat on the shoulder.

“See ya later, handsome,” he added with a wink as he walked off.

“Oh hoho, this isn’t over, darling!” Mumbo called after him, laughter lacing his voice. He could hear Martyn snickering as he disappeared into the next room.

When he turned back, his friends were staring at him like he had two heads.

“What was that?” Etho finally asked, doing a poor job of hiding his smirk.

Mumbo raised a brow. “What was what?”

“That!” Tango exclaimed, motioning vaguely at the air. “Dude, you can’t look at a cute guy without having an existential crisis, and suddenly you’re flirting with one?”

Mumbo blinked, caught between confusion and mild embarrassment. “No! Not flirting—that’s just how Martyn is!”

Impulse snorted. “Sure, darling~” he teased, fluttering his eyelashes.

Mumbo groaned, rolling his eyes and starting toward the stage. “You’re the worst.”

Laughter followed behind him as the group trailed after, the teasing far from over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ♡ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last Part:

Next Part:

Authors note:

Hi guys! thanks for being so patient I kinda took up a bunch of extra shifts ar work so I've been Woking none stop the last 15 days ಥ‿ಥ.

Anyways it's been sitting mostly finished in my drafts for a while. I was planning to add another Grian pov at the end but I wanted to get it out faster so it'll start with that next time instead ~~~~

And yes I had to include Aha-sbands somehow they are my beloved. This will absolutely not cause any drama what so ever... ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ (I'm not actually sure It will, but there's potential!!!)

The boys will actually get to meet soon, hehe. Like actual full on talk sooooo look forward to that!

//Birb ♡

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

omggg i LIVE for ppl babying van. never considered mama!lottie and little!van before now, that was adorable! <33 begging for more though! or even headcanon’s of all the older surviving yellowjackets taking care of a little!van? ahhh so perfect!!!! no pressure though!!!!

Regressor!Van (adult timeline)

Hi Nonnie !! Thank you for this ask <3 it kinda turned into just general little!van Hcs, hope you enjoy anyway <3

- I kind of see adult Van as a permaregressor ! Usually she stays around 10-15 but occasionally goes younger, 2-4 (usually only when around the other yjs)

- Van likes nicknames such as buddy, kiddo and little one if she’s feeling smaller. She calls Lottie Mommy and Tai Mama when she’s feeling younger. They get either Mom, Lot or Tai when she’s feeling older.

- Van loves anything that is from the 90s and really just wants to relive a time before the crash as much as they can.

- Obviously movies and tv are a big part of her regression. When she’s having a hard day usually just puts on an old tape and tries to sleep until she feels better. Some of her comfort shows are Full House, Seinfeld and The Simpsons. When they’re smaller they like scooby-doo and teenage mutant ninja turtles.

- Van loves playing on their gameboy and their super old nintendo. They love playing teenage mutant ninja turtles games, tetris and donkey kong.

- I see Tai and Lottie as the main ones to take care of Van, while Nat takes on a sort of sibling role. Van isn’t the biggest fan of Misty and Shauna but will accept their care if she has to.

- Lottie is definitely one to baby Van the most! she just wants to spoil and coddle her. Even if Van is feeling older Lottie is trying to tie their shoe laces and buy them new toys. She can be a little overwhelming, a little micromanaging, but eventually she learns to calm down a bit. Van likes the coddling, it makes her feel safe, even if she outwardly complains.

- She’ll be playing video games and Lottie will come over, trying to cuddle up with her and ask if she needs any snacks. Van will grumble and shrug Lottie away but when she notices the dejected look on Lottie’s face she’ll offer a hand out to hold or ask for some chips.

- Lottie definitely has rules, but she enforces them very gently. No swearing, screen time limits, stuff like that. But she speaks so patiently and calmly that Van doesn’t really ever feel like arguing.

- Tai is a lot more relaxed though she is better at putting her foot down. Tai is very good with super young Van, always knowing just how to calm her down. And she’s also great with an older Van, she’s always asking Van questions about her games and trying to understand them (though most of the time she just smiles and nods along).

- Both Lottie and Tai are very big on spoiling Van. They want to buy her all the toys, games and clothes that she wants. Van can be a bit weird about them buying stuff for her because they feel bad but when they see how happy it makes them they calm down a little bit.

- Van’s loves action figures, they’re not huge on actually playing with them but just enjoy having to go searching for super old ones to collect and display around the shop.

- Huge comic book reader !! I honestly think Van maybe has a little bit of trouble reading and probably struggles to focus on very word heavy books but she LOVES comic books because she can just look at all the cool pictures. If Lottie or Tai are there they can read the words for her which is fun too!! Probably not a fan of wolverine though…

- Massive consumer of energy drinks and anything sugary. Candy, soda, ice cream. This is very much not something either Lottie or Tai like to encourage or support. Lottie likes to try and have Van help her with cooking and baking to encourage them to eat something more healthy, it works sometimes. Tai prefers the approach of ‘if you eat all your vegetables you can have a sucker after dinner’ - that works better.

- Van is very witty and sarcastic, often speaking before she really thinks or not really understanding fully when she might cross a line too far. Usually this is aimed at Misty and the others just let it play out, but the few times she’s gone a bit too far she’s felt bad after.

- Super little Van loves shirts with cartoons on them, dinosaurs and things of that nature, usually paired with a pair of jorts or trackies. Whilst teen regressor Van’s wardrobe consists of a lot of big jackets and band shirts from the 90s. Likes lots of cool rings and Lottie takes her out to vintage stores to find me ones.

- Really doesn’t enjoy brushing their hair or having it brushed. Never wants her hair done up either, even if it’s falling all over her face while she’s playing.

[amgk22]

on my knees begging for pre-canon lenore dove and haymitch hurt/comfort (preferably lenore dove comofrting haymitch but anything is good)

thank youu <3

nothing i can do. haymitch abernathy x lenore dove

description: haymitch’s dad ends up in a coal mine explosion. with his mother trying to explain the truth to sid, haymitch’s comfort comes in the form of words from his love, his all-fire.

warnings: haymitch’s dad dies when he’s a bit older, like 14 or 15 now fight me, violence, cursing

the letters on the shelf

hold something of yourself

the books I read that day

I only see your face

Haymitch heard it first when he was at school. Reading a novel which was clearly written by a Capitol citizen, having to deal with Blair’s bad breath, and tapping his foot.

“Haymitch and Sid Abernathy, please head to the office immediately,” the low-quality loudspeaker managed to chirp out.

A couple of ‘oos’ and ‘aaah’s’ came from seats, including one from Haymitch’s sworn rival, Maysilee Donner. “Oh, shut your trap,” Haymitch muttered, leaving the class with his hands on his hips and his boots untied.

The hall was dirty, as always. The elementary kids had came in from recess not too long ago- and their boots and shoes were always filled with dirt and other outdoor substances. He was used to it, though, and made it to the worn-down office.

The office wasn’t anything special- just a normal building with a peeling desk. “So, what’s up?” Haymitch asked.

“Your mom’s here,” The office lady declared, adjusting her monocle.

“What?” Haymitch looked to the side, and saw his mom- Willamae. But he just called her Ma. “What do you want now?”

“Your dad..” Ma mumbled, before letting a tear shed from her left eye. “He was in the explosion, Haymitch.”

She was joking. She had to be joking. “Be serious,” Haymitch repeated. “He’s not there.”

“Do you think I’m joking?” Ma asked sternly. “Your dad’s in that explosion!”

“Did he come out yet?” Haymitch asked. “What’s his injuries.”

“They’re just finishing bringing people out,” Ma ordered. “We’re going to see your dad the second Sid comes.”

Almost as if it was fate, Sid ran right through the door. “Mom! Mom! Look! Miss Hawthorne brought us CHALK!” He held up his paper with pride, a drawing of Haymitch’s tight-knit family being plasted on the white sheet.

“We’re going to the mine; okay buddy?” Ma asked. “To see your dad.” Haymitch didn’t get why Sid had to be babied- but he didn’t judge. He just watched Sid’s smile brighten.

“Dad! We’re seeing dad!” Sid exclaimed. “Come on Haymitch! Let’s go!”

Ma led Sid out the doors, Haymitch following suit. “What about my bags?” Haymitch asked, suddenly remembering about all the stuff he had left.

“We’re coming back,” Ma reminded Haymitch. “We’re just going to see his injuries and make sure he knows we love him.”

“Aw,” Sid whined. “I wanna stay with dad!”

“I know, buddy,” Ma chuckled, although Haymitch could tell she wasn’t completely happy. He could see her worry.

The walk to the mine wasn’t so far away, Haymitch noticed. A couple turns left and he could already see the opening. There were people around it. What counted as ambulances. Ma and Sid’s pace quickened, and Haymitch had to jog to keep up.

“Julius,” Ma called out. “Julius! Can you hear me? Is he there?”

Ma’s hands slammed onto the railing that was put up, and Haymitch lifted Sid up so he could see. “I don’t see him!” Sid whined.

“He’s coming,” Haymitch insisted, feeling the pit in his stomach grow larger the longer he waited. “He’s coming, Sid.”

A man in a mining uniform, similar to his dad’s, approached Ma. “Hello, are you the Abernathy’s?” The man asked.

“Yeah,” Ma replied. “We’re Julius’s family. When’s he coming up?”

“We’ve finished bringing the survivors up,” the man said. “But there’s no Julius Abernathy. I’m so sorry.”

Haymitch’s eyes grew colder than he knew they could be. His dad. His dad hadn’t came up. “The fuck you mean he didn’t come up?” Haymitch interrupted, putting Sid down.

“Language!” Ma exclaimed, trying to resist tears.

“He’s not coming up?” Sid asked Haymitch. “When’s he coming home?”

Haymitch froze up. “Sid..he’s not coming home.”

“Why?”

Haymitch didn’t wanna explain why. He didn’t wanna have to comfort his mom, he didn’t wanna have to deal with this. He wanted this to have never happened.

“He’s not dead,” Ma ordered. “They’re lying. They’re lying! He’s not dead! Julius is NOT dead! GIVE ME MY HUSBAND!” As Ma reached over, leaving Sid to watch her, Haymitch’s heart thumped.

“There’s no point!” Haymitch yelled. “He’s dead! Our dad’s dead!”

“Shut up!” Ma screamed back, before attempting to jump over the fence.

“Mom?” Sid asked quietly. “Haymitch, where’s she going?”

Haymitch’s eyes swelled up with tears as the anger and sadness inside conjoined. “Stay here with your mom.” He turned his head away.

“What?” asked Sid, tugging on Haymitch’s leg.

Haymitch looked back at his brother, guilt crawling across his skin. But he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t cry in front of his brother. Sid saw him as his hero.

As Haymitch ran, he could hear Sid’s cries out. “Haymitch! Come back! Where are you going?”

Even his mom yelling his full name couldn’t make him stop running. He didn’t know exactly where he was going. But he needed space. He needed to escape to a place where his dad wasn’t dead.

Which is what he did. The second he reached the meadow, he sunk down onto the grass and leaned onto the tree. His head was in his hands quickly, and he let out a hard sob.

“Please let this be a dream,” Haymitch mumbled to himself. “Please..”

Other then the occasional mockingjay cry and scream, Haymitch heard nothing except for silence.

That is, until Haymitch heard the subtle sound of an accordion and footsteps. It was silent at first, but the noise grew louder.

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow,

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.”

His eyes slowly opened, peeking behind the tree to see Lenore Dove slowly walking down the meadow. She saw him quickly, and bounced a bit. “Haymitch! What are you doing here? Isn’t it school time?” Lenore Dove had been absent from school the past few days, apparently catching the flu. From what Tam Amber had told Haymitch, she was better today- but it was better for her to stay home. “Haymitch, you’re crying..”

Haymitch nodded slowly, glancing at Lenore Dove going down towards him. She placed down her accordion, and sat next to Haymitch. “What happened?” Lenore Dove asked.

Haymitch sighed. “There was a mine explosion.”

“And you got let out of school?” Lenore Dove questioned. “Wait, your dad! How’s he?”

Haymitch just looked at her, his eyes becoming more glossy with every thought. His dad was dead.

“Oh. Oh,” Lenore Dove mumbled quietly, wrapping her arm around Haymitch’s shoulder. “Haymitch, I’m sorry…”

“He’s gone,” cried Haymitch. “Forever. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I know,” Lenore Dove whispered in Haymitch’s ear. “You don’t want positive advice, do you? No lift-up speeches?” Haymitch slowly shaked his head. “You just want silence.” Haymitch nodded.

Lenore Dove leaned her head on Haymitch’s shoulder softly, looking at him longingly. She wished she could take his pain away, and that she knew how to do it. But Lenore Dove wouldn’t quit.

“You must be feeling really alone right now,” Lenore Dove mumbled. “But you’re not. You have your Ma. Sid. Blair and Burdock. Me. I’ll help you.”

Haymitch wiped a couple of his tears away. “I know you’ll help me. But it’s just so hard to come to terms with, y’know? My pa’s dead..”

“I never met my dad,” Lenore Dove added. “You have memories of him. Memories that’ll last your whole life.”

“And those’ll never go away,” Haymitch forced a smile. “They can’t take my memories.”

“You’re right, they can’t,” Lenore Dove pointed out. “The mind is a powerful weapon, Haymitch. The Capitol can’t control our minds. They’re our one strength we can always gain no matter how hard the Capitol tries to take it away, because the songs and the stories and the poems will always live between us forever.”

“I remember a story my pa told me,” Haymitch mumbled, loud enough for Lenore Dove to hear. “One of the only stories of his he told me- a private guy, he was.” He struggled to say ‘was’, resisting a bit before finally uttering the words.

“Can I hear it?” Lenore Dove asked softly. “I’d love to hear it.”

Haymitch nodded, looking at her with a genuine smile. “It was about two soldiers in battle. They cared for eachother- some say they loved eachother, and fought for their country with dignity and pride. But then, one of the soldiers died. And the other soldier kept fighting, because you don’t give up when you lose someone. And he won the battle,” Haymitch couldn’t continue, as his eyes watered up. He realized the story his pa had told him was becoming more and more realistic. Two soldiers- him and his pa. And Haymitch had to keep fighting and win the battle.

“That’s a lovely story,” Lenore Dove said. “The two soldiers..in love. Sounds mystical, forbidden, like a book I read once.”

“It really is a good story,” Haymitch mumbled. “You know, Lenore Dove, you always find a way to make me stop crying. You’re a gift, remember that.”

“Oh, don’t make me blush,” Lenore Dove giggled slightly. “Geese mate for life, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Haymitch said. “You remind me every day. Where are your geese?”

“One of em’s sick,” Lenore Dove said with a frown. “So Clerk Carmine’s getting his guy to come over and fix her up.”

“I like your geese more when they’re not quacking in my face,” Haymitch chuckled. “When they’re calm, laying next to you like an angel in a bouquet of flowers.”

“Don’t compare me to an angel, Haymitch,” Lenore Dove smiled. “You know you’re fibbin’.”

“I’d be fibbin the day the sun didn’t rise on the reaping. And even then, you’d still look like a blue jay with big wings,” Haymitch grinned. “You know I’m not a liar.”

“I know. That’s what I love about you most,” Lenore Dove whispered. “Your honesty.”

“I’ll never lie once in my life,” Haymitch chuckled.

“Promise?” Asked Lenore Dove.

“Promise.”