#these questions & more will not be answered. thank you for your time

[bloomseishiro]

Hi! Can I request some BLLK drabbles (with whichever BLLK characters you like) where the boys see the reader in tight clothes for the first time? Like, the reader usually wears baggy clothing or stuff that hides their curves/body figure, so it’s a total surprise! It doesn’t have to be a dress—tight shorts and crop tops work too!

Anyways, I love you and your fics! You’re doing amazing, hunny! 💕 Keep doing what you’re doing—your stories make me smile and feel the thrill!! 💓🩷💗

what a surprise — he sees you in tight clothes for the first time

౨ৎ ft. nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, itoshi rin

a/n. THANK YOU SWEET ANON FOR THE REQUEST!! i had sm fun writing this and ur kind words def made my day ^-^ i chose the three characters i’m most comfy with heh one day i will expand!! >.>

contents. fluff, pre-relationship, timeskip/pro soccer player bllk boys, reader wears a tight dress for rin and nagi’s + crop top/short shorts for sae’s, these are suggestive so rated 16+ pls ! 

NAGI SEISHIRO

Nagi isn’t one to go to parties often. But this one was for Reo’s birthday and you were begging him to go. 

He thought it would be less of a hassle to simply agree with you and make an appearance. Besides, he could always bring his phone and hide in the corner of the room, if needed. 

But when Nagi sees the dress you’re wearing to the party, he decides maybe agreeing to come wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

“Does this dress make my butt look big?” you ask from his room, popping your head out of the doorframe. 

The two of you are getting ready at Nagi’s apartment, mainly so he can’t flake at the last minute, and he had stepped out earlier to give you privacy while changing. 

At your question, Nagi looks around lazily before his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. The dress on your body is short and tight, leaving nothing to the imagination when it comes to the shape of your waist and hips. 

Nagi swallows with uncertainty. It’s different from your usual attire, that much even he could recognize. 

“Yes,” he manages to answer your question honestly. 

You beam as if that's just the response you’re looking for. “Great! I was going to wear my usual clothes, but Reo said we should dress nice since his family invited some celebrities.”

Nagi nods in acknowledgment. “Your dress is nice. But your usual clothes are nice, too.”

Hiding a giggle, you tug the dress down so it covers more of your thighs. Nagi can’t help but notice how shiny and supple your skin looks there. 

“Do you like one more than the other?” you ask playfully. 

He shakes his head hesitantly and he feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I like…both.”

“I’ll make sure to mix it up sometimes, then.”

ITOSHI SAE

Sae isn’t a saint. He’s never claimed nor pretended to be. While his focus has always been on soccer, he wasn’t one to turn down one night stands so long as they were conveniently timed for him. 

All that to say, he’s seen plenty of minimally-clad bodies before. But he’s never felt the dryness in his throat that he does now. All from seeing you in those denim booty shorts and cropped baby tee. 

Of course, the ridiculous shirt has, “Make Men Cry” written across your chest, only accentuating the curves you normally kept hidden even more. You may very well be able to reach that goal if you keep walking around like that. 

His face is neutral; only Sae himself feels the slight clench of his jaw as his eyes trail across your figure. 

“Do I look bad?” you blurt hesitantly, tugging at the hem of your shirt that landed just above your belly-button. Your fidgeting only serves to draw more attention to the exposed, soft skin on your stomach. 

Sae blinks slowly. “No. Who said that?”

“No one, but you just keep staring at me…” 

“Not because you look bad,” he corrects. “It’s because you look hot.”

“You think?” you ask shyly, peering up at him through your lashes. “My friend and I went on a shopping spree and I wanted to change up my wardrobe. Just sometimes, at least.”

Sae makes a mental note to thank your friend. “Well, if you need more clothes, you can use my card.”

“I’ll make sure to get more of these cropped tops. Since you seem to like it so much,” you tease.

“For whatever reason, only on you.”

ITOSHI RIN

Awestruck doesn’t begin to describe how Rin feels when he sees you in a silk dress that gracefully falls against all your curves. 

Galas are a pain, a stupid event he would skip if not for his PR team’s incessant prodding, but at least he managed to drag you along with him for this one. 

He didn’t, however, actually expect you to dress the part. He would’ve been fine if you had shown up in the oversized shirts and baggy pants you typically wore, but he was completely caught off guard at the sight of you now.

“Can you help me tighten the back?” you ask bashfully, turning around to reveal the almost-backless dress that held itself together by a few measly strings. “I don’t want it to fall off at the gala…”

Rin’s ears heat up and he mentally slaps himself for picturing that. “Yeah. C’mere.”

You aren’t one to wear revealing clothes often, and this is the most skin he’s seen since he ever met you. His fingers ghost the back of your spine as he fastens the strings into a little bow. His fingers jerk as he skims the softness of your skin and he clears his throat to distract himself. 

“Is this good?” he asks hoarsely. 

You tug at the straps to make sure it’s secure and nod brightly. “Yep! Thanks, Rin. Do you need help with anything? I can tie your tie in return!”

Panicked, he shakes his head and quickly fastens his tie himself. It’s the fastest Rin has ever gotten it done. Once finished, he catches you staring at him with a funny look. 

“You’re acting silly,” you say, sticking your tongue out.

“Sorry. I know. I’m just not used to you looking like that.”

Your gaze meets the floor as you shuffle your weight from foot to foot. “Is it weird?”

“It’s unfamiliar. But you look…” he trails off, cheeks a bright pink. “You look really pretty.”

You blink in surprise and an equally embarrassed look graces your features. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he coughs. “Not that you’re not always pretty. Just…it’s different.”

“Yeah,” you repeat, giggling through the shyness. “Well, if you want to see me like this more often, I guess you have to invite me as your plus one to more of these events.”

“Do you want to attend more of these with me?” asks Rin in surprise. 

“Not particularly,” you admit and Rin scoffs. “But maybe it’s worth it to see your cute reactions.”

His face heats up once more. “Shut up.” 

You laugh at him, placing your hand on your hips and only drawing more attention to your curves. Maybe Rin doesn’t hate galas, after all.

[justoneotherthing123]

We can discuss the minutiae of manipulation, but I feel like that's not going to be really productive because if you think that every act you do that influences others to do something you like is manipulation then we're just going to debate definitions and I don't care about that. So, alright, no nuance, no subtlety, just "manipulation is when you influence others."

Manipulation can be fine. In fact, manipulation is sometimes necessary.

Let's say you're working with Crochety Alex. Alex hates helping others. Alex thinks that there's Alex job and other people's jobs, and the two things shall never be mixed. The only way to make Alex help is to have a boss give Alex a direct order to help, at which point helping becomes Alex's job. This makes Alex a nightmare to work with.

Your job requires Alex to give you the McGuffin. What do you do, do you directly ask Alex to help you, just for Alex to ignore you, forcing you to repeat your questions again and again until it's been a month, you're late, your boss is angry, and you have to explain the problem and now Alex is furious too because Alex considers this "throwing Alex under the bus"? Or do you wait until the boss is in the room and, with a giant smile, go "oh, by the way Alex, for my project I need a McGuffin, which i believe is in your department. Would you be so kind to give it to me at your earliest convenience? Thank you so much," because you know that Alex will be more inclined to say yes and, most importantly, follow through, least the boss thinks that Alex is a bad worker?

If you have any sense you go with the second option, because that's the actually correct option in this case. You can avoid manipulation, or you can get the job done in time without ruining the day of a lot of people.

Now, change of scene. You're talking with a friend. You're thinking of ordering food. The friend proposes pizza. You propose burgers. The friend is totally okay with burgers, but they think that pizza is a better choice because of convenience. You don't want pizza. Instead of answering back with your own burger manifesto, or clearly saying, "I don't feel like having pizza," you keep trying to poke holes in your friend's reasoning for why pizza is the best choice. Your hope is that your friend will eventually relent and go with burgers. According to our definition, this is manipulation. But is it justified?

To answer your question, you have to see the context. Do you come from a culture that sees straight refusals as unacceptable? Does your friend normally refuse to accept a straight refusal on the basis of "I don't want to"? If the answer to either question is "yes," then you're justified. Do you think that a straight refusal will make your friend think less of you, even though they have never given you any indication that would happen? Do you want your friend to not just agree to get burgers, but actually agree with you that burgers are a better idea than pizza for no real reason other than because it's important to you that your friend sees you're correct? If the answer to either question is "yes," then the manipulation is not justified.

So, TL:DR - as a rule of thumb, If the person you're talking to should do something but doesn't feel like it, it's fine to manipulate them. If the person can't or shouldn't or sometimes even just wouldn't do something but you want them to because you feel like it, it's not fine to manipulate them.

there's a fine line between being wary of manipulation and becoming completely paranoid because you get very close to the realisation that pretty much all human interaction involves doing things we hope will lead to a result we like

[caleignii]

Caleb Fluff Headcanons

a/n: can't get enough of my sweet boy calebyy, so here are some headcanons that I think about him sometimes. My requests are open btww! Have fun reading dolls. (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Caleb who's love speaks softly—never with grand declarations, but in the quiet consistency of care. A warm drink materializes on your counter, perfectly timed to your worst days. The bulb that flickered last night? Fixed before morning. When the frost settles on the windows, your coat and gloves are already waiting by the door, touched by hands that never ask for thanks. He never says, “I did this for you.” But when you catch his eye after noticing, there’s a flicker of a smile there—like he’s trying not to glow too much. Like loving you is something sacred he’s choosing to keep humble.

Caleb after his missions, when the adrenaline fades and silence stretches thin, he drives—somewhere quiet, somewhere star-swept. He doesn’t speak much on the way, only reaches for your hand as though that’s all the grounding he needs. You lie beside him under the cosmos, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the universe breathe. Sometimes he whispers things—not to the stars, but to you. “When the stars get loud, I look at you, and they get quiet again.” You don’t always answer. You just squeeze his hand and let the silence cradle you both. Stars don’t speak, but Caleb does.

Caleb who secretly has an interest in riding a big bike. Okay here me out, with him as a pilot whenever he's flying in a small/open-cockpit plane—sends of freedom, thrill, and wind-in-your-face exhilaration that he may miss when flying sealed aircraft. Just like when riding a bike, the breeze during a fast ride contributes to that immersive, high-energy feeling, similar to low-altitude flying. The rush of wind on a fast-moving bike closely mimics the sensory experience of flying in an open cockpit or glider. Both activities provide an adrenaline rush and it attracted him who enjoy controlled risk and excitement.

Caleb's insomnia visits often, but so does he. He settles beside you, opens a worn book, and starts to read—not to pass the time, but to share space with you. His voice is low, smooth, like waves against the hull of a ship. You rest your head on his chest, feeling every word more than hearing them. When your breathing slows, he doesn’t stop. He keeps reading—quietly, carefully—as if the story might guard your dreams better than silence ever could.

Caleb has a photo of you he keeps hidden, tucked in the lining of his helmet like a secret prayer. Every mission, just before the launch seals him away, he looks at it. Only for a second. No one else sees. No one needs to. Once, you asked him why. He said, “Because there are places out there that want to strip the human out of you. But when I look at this... I remember who I am. And who I’m coming back to.”

Caleb doesn’t talk about his soft side. But you see it in the way a stray dog curls up at his feet, or how a kitten somehow finds its way into his arms, even on a space station. Once, you caught him crouched beside a baby bird, gently feeding it crumbs. He didn’t know you were watching. He just murmured, “You’re cold, aren’t you?” He looked up, startled, and gave the smallest shrug. “Someone had to help.” You didn’t tell him, but in that moment, your heart broke a little wider for him.

Caleb when someone flirts with you, doesn’t get angry, just quiet. A subtle shift. A glance. His fingers graze yours, almost like a question. Are you still with me? You smile at him—really smile—and that’s all it takes. The tension slides off his shoulders like water off armor. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, says nothing, but holds your hand just a bit tighter. The message is clear: I don’t need to fight for you. You’ve already chosen me.

Caleb even when the world freezes around you, hands stay warm. On distant moons, in frostbitten ships, when your bones ache from the cold, he reaches for you. Always. His palms are steady, wrapping yours like a promise. No words—just touch. Gentle, grounding, there. It’s not just about warmth. It’s about reminding you: You are not drifting. You are not alone. I’m here.

[sophrosyncc]

— can't stop thinking of you !

warnings/tags : SFW, yearning, gender-neutral reader, 3.2 exploration spoilers (memory fragment)

author's note : was feeling very romantic so I quickly whipped up something for our amphoreus professor. huge thanks to my pillow who helped me imagine the scenes better

art credits : official commission from honkai: star rail by the artist luminos!

word count : 652

when you called anaxa dear for the first time, you didn't even notice how naturally it slipped out of your tongue.

it was another night of lounging in his private laboratory, relaxing on the couch he recently moved there to host guests, a weak excuse to hide that it was only for you. the two of you were far too used to this routine, staying in each other's personal spaces like it was second nature, drawn to his presence like he was with you.

magnets. a word hyacine often used to describe the two of you.

you think it fits well.

"so, who was chasing you this time?" you question, threading your fingers through his hair. it brought a feeling of contentment to see anaxa relax on your lap. a rare moment of peace in his hectic and fast-paced life, a direct contrast to yours. "fools? guards from the council of elders?"

the sage and founder of the nousporists wasn't someone the majority would consider normal. a heretic, fool, blasphemous scholar— these were all variations of multiple titles the public call him. even his most dedicated students couldn't keep up with every bad mouthed nickname bestowed upon their professor.

ten? fifty? one hundred?

none of you knew the answer to that, including the man himself. someone who didn't even care about such trivial matters in the first place.

anaxa sighs. "fools," he dryly replies, tilting his head to further lean into your touch. you resist the urge to coo or compare him to a cat silently asking for more affection. "they wanted to publicly execute me this time. I had to bring my lecture to dawncloud instead."

"dawncloud?" your eyebrows raise in surprise.

that was very far from the grove of epiphany. too far. it would take a day to get there on foot.

the place was all the way in okhema where aglaea and castorice were stationed, constantly monitored by the golden threads he disliked so much. not to mention, a good amount of people there openly shared their distaste about him. how much of a disturbance were they that even his 'teaching tool' couldn't scare them off?

without knowing it, you stop rubbing his scalp, lost in thought.

anaxa opens his eye. he peers up at you questioningly, wondering why you suddenly stopped. until he sees that familiar dip between your eyebrows, lips pursed into a thin line, a tinge of barely hidden concern written all over your face.

he nudges your hand with his head.

you don't budge.

he tries it again.

nothing happens.

a quiet grumble leaves his lips.

"why did you stop?" he finally asks, snapping you out of your own bubble of thought. "there's no need to worry about me. the chances of ica reaching apotheosis are far more greater than the success of their threats."

you blink.

hyacine's pegasus turning into a titan?

with a soft laugh, you continue combing his hair. "...that's ridiculous."

"it worked, didn't it?" anaxa smoothly responds. he inclines his head back, sighing as your fingers make their way down to his nape, lightly scratching his skin. even with his eyepatch covering half of his face, you could see the slightest of smiles from the corner of his lip.

for all the nonchalance he seemed to carry with him in front of other people, he didn't hesitate to lower his guard around you.

the same feeling of warmth settled in your chest again, content to stay like this forever.

you lean down. pressing your forehead against his, breathing in the familiar smell that belonged to him, you whisper. "thank you, dear."

he pauses, followed by a sharp exhale. "...it's nothing."

pulling away, you take the time in the peaceful moment to admire him. when you brush the strands of hair away from his forehead to get a clearer view, your heart skips a beat at the sight.

his ears were red.

[prettydaisygirl]

would love to see a one bed trope with james!!

hi nonnie! Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you enjoy <3 I love one-bed tropes omggggg

friend!James Potter x fem!reader who fall victim to Sirius' trap ✿ 2.0k words

cw: fem reader, James has a crush on reader, they are both awkward, James is a professional athlete, Lily is James' ex (sorry), background wolfstar, Remus had an allergic reaction but Sirius saw an opportunity

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

James should’ve known Sirius had ulterior motives. He always does.

When Sirius had called him yesterday, James immediately knew something was wrong. Sirius never calls him. He should’ve been more suspicious when he answered and Sirius’ tone was bright and cheery despite the words he was saying.

“Remus had an allergy attack,” Sirius says, and James can hear the hospital machines in the room behind him. Sirius laughs when James asks if Remus will be okay. “He’s fine! You know Moony, he’s resilient!” 

James doesn’t know if Remus is really that resilient, but Sirius seems to blow off his worries, quickly moving on. “Anyway, Prongs, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Upon later reflection, James will again realize that the tone in Sirius' voice should’ve made him suspicious. 

“Rem and I rented a cabin for the weekend, but now with this, we can’t go. And they won’t let us refund it with such short notice.” Sirius’ voice muffles a bit as he seems to turn to say something to Remus, but James can’t make out the words. Sirius turns back and continues, “You should go for us, yeah? Enjoy a nice weekend away, it might be nice to relax and get away from all of your problems.”

James should’ve known better. He always knows better when it comes to Sirius. 

Maybe it was his burnout, or the sounds of the hospital room in the background, but James finds himself agreeing. Which isn’t the stupid part.

The stupid part was not asking anymore questions. 

James is expecting a cabin in the woods. He is expecting quiet peace away from hectic city life, and work, and everything else. 

But he's not expecting you.

James opens the front door as you’re stirring a pot over the stove. You freeze, he freezes, the both of you like deer in headlights.

“Hello,” He says, smiling softly as he steps inside and shuts the cabin door behind him.

“Hi, James!” You say back brightly, setting down your stirring spoon and brushing your hair off your face with the back of your wrists. “What are you doing here?”

“I was… going to ask you that.” James says as he sets his bag down by the front door. He runs a hand through his hair as you pick up a dish towel and wipe off your hands.

“Sirius invited me,” You explain, and glance at the stove again before deciding to reach over and turn it off. James watches your every move. “He said they rented this cabin for their anniversary this weekend, but Remus had to go to the hospital. They didn’t want to waste the reservation… Why are you looking at me like that?”

James blinks a few times and tries to wipe whatever look he must have off his face. “No, I just… that’s what he told me too. He invited me too, just yesterday.”

“Oh,” You say, and then a sharp chuckle escapes your lips, “Why would he do that?”

James knows exactly why Sirius would do that. 

A few weeks ago, after a few too many, James admitted to Sirius that he maybe, sort of, kind of, just a little bit, fancies you. James has had a very hard time getting over Lily after the breakup, and this admission had Sirius grinning like the Cheshire Cat. James had hoped Sirius wouldn’t remember it, and he thought that because Sirius hadn’t mentioned it again, that he didn’t.

Except, evidently, Sirius did remember.

“Well, that’s alright!” You say, the sweet, happy smile returning to your lips. Its familiar presence makes James’ insides flutter. “I can make more soup!”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Your voice is quick to cut off James’ protests.

“Don’t worry! It will only take me a few minutes,” You wave him off with a hand, already moving to turn the stove back on and begin adding more ingredients.

James takes this moment to slip away and collect himself. He leans down to grab his bag and dashes across the living room to the door on the other side. He opens it and finds the bedroom. 

He runs a hand through his hair, tossing his bag on the bed. He steps into the connected bathroom, turns on the sink, and splashes some water onto his face.

Fuck, He thinks. James was definitely not expecting you. 

He steps back into the bedroom and sits on the bed, only to freeze, his entire body tensing. His eyes dart around the room in disbelief, panic flooding him.

Fuck, again. James thinks. There’s only one bed.

His immediate panic recedes when he realizes he can just sleep on the couch. He groans internally at the thought of having a sore back for a day or two, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

Only, when he walks into the living room, there isn’t a couch. Just two wicker chairs. 

Fuck, three times.

He walks back into the kitchen, hearing you humming to yourself as you set two bowls of soup on the table. He pretends like his mind isn’t reeling as he takes a seat, beaming brightly at you. 

“How have you been?” He asks, and he cringes as you sit down. He should’ve gotten your chair for you.

“I’ve been alright! Things have been busy, but what’s new? How have you been? Lily doesn’t talk about you anymore so…” Your voice trails off as you realize you’ve said the wrong thing. James’ stomach churns just a bit at the sound of Lily’s name from your mouth but he pushes it aside quickly. He waves off your anxiety with a wave of his hand.

“I’ve been alright,” James answers, picking up his spoon but not taking a bite yet, “I’ve been throwing myself into the team. We've been doing really well this season. Oh, and I got a new flat a few months ago, it’s nice.” 

He tries to keep his voice steady and you just nod and smile. So far so good, he thinks.

“Sorry for…” Your voice is quiet as you squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment and James is quick to soothe your anxiety again.

“No, I promise it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. How… How is she?” James asks, and he does care but more than anything he doesn’t want you to think he is hung up on Lily. Their breakup was the hardest thing he’s ever gone through, but it was never going to work out between them and he understands that now.

“She’s alright, she’s… I think she’s getting engaged soon.” You shrug a bit and James gives you a soft smile.

“Good… That’s good.” James says. He hates the way the room is thick and the silence stretches awkwardly in a way that makes his skin crawl. 

You don’t let the tension stop you, speaking up again. “I’ve been watching your games. You’re right when you say the team is doing really well.”

James finds himself both surprised and flattered that you watch them. Maybe you’re just a fan of the sport, but he convinces himself you’re watching it for him. “You watch me? Really?”

He adores the way you become flustered, eyes darting away from his for a moment as you shy, “Well… I mean you’re there, so…”

James chuckles brightly and the room lightens a bit. He shakes it off his shoulders and tilts his head at you. “I wish I would’ve known you were watching. I would’ve shown off for you.” 

Your eyes brighten and James’ heart skips a beat. “You weren’t already?” You ask, the corner of your mouth turning up, and James falls deeper in love with you.

The rest of dinner goes well. James finds the soup you made absolutely delicious, and your company even better. Your laugh is contagious and the both of you find yourself having a good time, especially when you find the bottle of champagne that was seemingly left for Remus and Sirius’ anniversary trip. At the end of the bottle, after moving to sit outside, the two of you are laughing so loud you might have scared off any animals nearby. 

James adores the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, the way the light from the setting sun causes your irises to glow just a bit brighter. The last of a series of chuckles leaves his lips and James finds himself telling you, “There’s only one bed.”

Your chuckles slow and your brow furrows just a bit, a smile still on your lips. “What?”

“There’s only one bed, and there’s not even a couch.” James’ voice is lighter than normal, and there’s a long moment of silence before the two of you break out into giggles again.

“Oh no,” You say teasingly, giggles slipping out every few words, “I have to sleep with James Potter? How disappointing.”

James knocks into your shoulder lightly with his own, but you don’t move, just letting his shoulder rest against yours. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asks, a surprisingly sober question for his tipsy brain. You shake your head, turning to look at him with your pretty eyes and beautiful smile. The alcohol and the look on your face make his brain fuzzy.

“No,” You say, and James lets his knee fall into yours too. “You can sleep on the bed with me.” 

He lets you get ready for bed first, laying on top of the sheets and simultaneously cursing and thanking Sirius for setting him up like this. You come out in some sleep shorts and a t-shirt and James thinks he might die. Just the sight of the skin of your thighs is enough to have him practically jumping off of the bed and heading into the bathroom. 

When he comes back out, now changed into a pair of boxers and a different t-shirt, you’re already under the covers. He feels his heart pounding in his chest as he slides in next to you. His buzz from the champagne has mostly worn off now, and he can see your eyes shine just a bit in the darkness of the bedroom.

“Is this still okay?” James asks softly, the two of you facing each other. His leg bumps into yours.

“Yes,” You whisper back softly, and you seem to hesitate for just a moment before you place your hand on his. “It’s okay. I want you to sleep here.”

James feels himself practically melt and his body moves closer to your own, your words encouraging him. He squeezes your hand and he can feel the soft puffs of your breath against his face. 

“‘m glad you’re here,” James admits softly and your lips curl into a soft smile. 

“Me too.” You say, and he watches your eyes fall shut for a moment before they open again. The two of you lay there, eyes on each other, until you’re the one who leans forward to press a kiss to his lips. 

It’s soft and sweet, nothing earth-shattering. James thinks it's perfect. He decides to be brave too, and slides an arm around you. You continue to kiss lazily for a few minutes until you yawn. James pulls back enough to pretend to look offended.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” He asks, voice soft and teasing as he runs a hand up your side. You shiver a bit and smile tiredly.

“Sorry,” You say, voice practically a murmur as sleep calls to you, “I’m sleepy.”

“I know,” James whispers, and he runs a hand through your hair. You smile, letting your eyes close and letting sleep start to take you. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, James.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[heartyluv]

I LOVE how you write the lads guys!!! May I please request taking advantage (in a kind way, of course) of zayne’s medical expertise and asking him silly medical questions? Just like really random stuff! lounging around with him at home or being out and about while asking those questions would be so funny and I’m sure he would kind of like it lol

Note: This idea is too cute, I love it. Thank you so much, luvly. I felt like this works best as headcanons, so I hope that’s okay. 😚 Enjoy!

Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!

Warning: Just a brief explicit headacanon after you and Zayne have been intimate.

Zayne/Reader

✴︎ Dating a doctor meant that you officially had a walking medical encyclopedia for a boyfriend and you had no shame in utilizing his knowledge. Thankfully for you, Zayne was always happy to deliver whenever you asked him all kinds of questions.

✴︎ I feel like when you start getting comfortable enough to ask him, it’s really simple things. Like it’s questions about your personal health at first. You’ve definitely asked him something like; “Babe, how do I make my headaches go away faster?” and “What do you think are the best vitamins I should take so I don’t have to keep taking gross ones that aren’t doing anything?”

✴︎ Not only does Zayne answer your questions, but he gives you some deeper insight so that you have your own knowledge about things. And you like learning from him—especially because of the way he looks at you as you stay hooked onto his every word.

✴︎ He loves the little text messages you send him. You ask him something almost everyday, sometimes even attaching a photo for reference LOL. I picture you at the supermarket, stumbling upon these new health beverages that you want to try out. But if your Dr. Zayne says that they’re simply drinks full of more sugar than actual benefits, you’ll have zero problem putting them back on the shelf. “Do any of these actually work for gut health? I sent you the nutrition label. What do you think?”

✴︎ I believe he always takes your questions seriously, but you have moments where you ask him something so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. “Zayne, babe… I ate like three apples and a pomegranate, and now my mouth feels weird. Am I dying?” Don’t catch him on a day where he’s feeling goofy either, because he might scare you a little bit.

✴︎ “You may have oral allergy syndrome, my love.” Just imagine his tone being dead serious and the silence that follows. And when you start losing it over the phone, he tries to calm you down, but he’s just smiling so hard at your theatrics. When you search it up and you start worrying if you’ll ever be able to eat another mango again in your life, he tries to suppress his laughter, all while attempting to soothe you at the same time.

✴︎ You’ll be walking around while you guys are on a date and will randomly ask him how many calories does he think you’ve burned, just to see how accurate he is compared to your walking app that tracks all of that for you. Not only does he get incredibly close, he’s also able to do the same with the amount of steps you’ve actually taken.

✴︎ “Quick, we’ve been walking thirty minutes, normal paced. How many calories? Go!”

✴︎ Just wait till you start watching one of those medical shows. You never watch an episode without him because you have to know how accurate the writing is. He’s gotten through three seasons with you and sometimes, he’d answer questions before you even asked because he just knows you so well. And you legitimately learn so much that even you start pointing out unrealistic things yourself.

✴︎ “That doesn’t even make sense. He was hit in a major artery, wasn’t he Zayne? He shouldn’t even be able to argue with a doctor right now.” He’s so proud of you, by the way. How information sticks with you. And honestly? He finds it sexy—particularly knowing that he’s the reason why you know the things that you do.

✴︎ Times when you try to eat healthier, you always ask him how many calories something will be if you take something out or off. Like you’d still eat junk food or foods that aren’t exactly healthy, but you wonder what the difference will be if you add a vegetable. LOLLL.

✴︎ “Zayne, if I put only mushrooms on the pizza, is that better?”

“Honey, I think it’s best to just discard the pizza entirely in order to properly fulfill the goal you intended to reach.”

“But Zayne…It’s Friday and it’s pizza.”

✴︎ Some more questions off the top of my head from you would be; “If I eat more carrots than usual, will the decrease my chances of having to wear those thick bifocals when we’re old?

“If I’m on top more often when we have sex, will that tone my thighs out more?”

“How is it possible to drink a gallon of water a day? There’s just not enough time to drink all that liquid.”

✴︎ Omg, you totally believe that ginger is like the cure all and you even make him eat a raw slice of it a day LOLLLL. He admits that it has its benefits, but when he tries to tell you that you have to do more than just eat ginger, you listen, but you’re still so insistent about it.

✴︎ “Despite the benefits and your complete belief in the sacred ginger, love, please make sure you continue to take your daily supplements. Add to your regimen so that you improve your health—don’t take from it believing that something is an optimal replacement.”

✴︎ This one is a little explicit. But, I imagine you and him finish having sex, he’s on top of you, both of you already came and feel good. And even when you’re breathless, even with the glorious man above you, you can’t help it when you ask: “Do you think we’ve met our quota on physical activity for the next few days?”

✴︎ Zayne can’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss your neck. But he’s also filthy enough to move his hips just a little, hinting that he in fact could go again and says, “I think it’s best to try again… One more time, just to be safe. I’m sure the quota will be more than met once I’m finished with you.”

✴︎ Of course you’re going to let him fuck your brains out again. Why wouldn’t you let Dr. Zayne take care of you? What kind of patient would you be if you didn’t?

[itzpookiepooh]

I didnt know you did requestss, I love your writing so much! if it's not too much trouble, I'd love to see you write the guys' reaction to an mc who's just comically clueless? doesn't catch hints, and flirting goes over the head. even when they've already stablished a relationship, they still doesn't see it coming when the guys want a kiss or more and it always makes mc freeze for a sec like "ooh" and it's just funny. the lis have to very direct, its like mc is on loading screen 99% of the time lmao sorry if its complicated or too specific

Oh, Me!

Thank you so much! I got you don’t worry!

Caleb loves you he swears he does but you were just so clueless. Any advance he try you would not understand at all. He tried to kiss you you’d coincidentally move out of the way. If he tried to flirt you would laugh it off as if he was cracking a joke. Today he was planning on asking you out and everything had to be perfect…for his sake.

He set out a perfect dinner and wondered how to come about everything. You were ready to eat, you had been hungry all day especially since Caleb insisted that you don’t fill up on anything. You tapped your finger on the table waiting for the food to get here. Caleb was nervous practically sweating bullets.

“Hey pipsqueak…” He trails off placing a hand on the table. You turn to him fluttering your lashes with big clueless eyes.

“What’s up?” You ask, he gulps before answering, “I like you. I mean really like you.” His voice shaky with nerves.

“Well I’d hope so we grew up together.” You laugh and tap his hand playfully. He sighs, there you go again.

“No like I really like you like I want to be with you.” He explains both elbows now on the table as he does so. You blink at him still not getting it. Are you not together right now?

A dramatic sigh leaves Caleb as he leans back dramatically in his seat. He throws himself forward and grabs your hands.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He says bluntly. You chuckle before answering, “Oh I get it. You’re practicing!” She taps the said of her head and makes a duh motion with her mouth.

Caleb wanted to pull his hair out. You were so…special. So clueless and yet so smart at the same time. He could only blame himself for this because he asked you last week but the way he asked made it seem like he was practicing on you. He grabbed your cheeks making you look at him.

“I like you, love you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I’m real life right now.” He emphasizes making your eyes go wide as if you just figured out a worldwide mystery.

“Oh! Yes of course.” You answered making him sigh in relief. Finally!

Zayne is use to you being mildly confused. It was what ultimately drew him to you other than your caring nature. Him telling you he wanted to be with you was one thing but now he had to go through the process again. He sighed at the thought but it was worth it in the end.

So on a walk, hand in hand, he took a deep breath. This was it. You were enjoying the scenery around you as the quiet evening sky fell over you. The sunset painting the sky beautifully. He admired you as he holds your hand tighter.

“I want to tell you something.” His usual low tone flows through your ears. You look up at him with hopeful eyes.

“I want to take a step toward our future.” He tells you as you glance at him occasionally.

“Like getting a dog! I’ve always wanted a dog!” You excitedly bounce holding his hand to your chest. He blinks before shaking his head at how you threw him off.

“No I want us to be closer.” He tells you as you continue to walk. You think to yourself before snapping.

“Like getting a smaller bed!” You chuckle as if you were the brightest crayon in the box. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I want us to move in together.” He tells you bluntly. You squeal in excitement, “Like roommates!”

“Why would we be roommates?” He pauses to question you. Why wouldn’t you be roommates? That’s literally what two people moving in are like!

“Because we live together….” You both just stare at each other.

“I’m your boyfriend.” He states the obvious. You nod firmly. “Exactly like roommates version.” You agree.

“Oh my gosh.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Rafayel was on the verge of pulling his hair out. He had been flirting with you all day and you were just not catching on. If he could pull his eyeballs out he would. He called you cute and you said thank you and complimented him back. Fine, whatever. He wrapped his arm around you during the movie and you scooted over thinking you were in his way. He kissed the icing off your face and you told him he could’ve just used a napkin so he wouldn’t get dirty. He couldn’t win.

“How clueless are you?” He asks you on the cusp of irritation. You tilt your head confused on why he asked.

“I’m not.” You tell him. He huffs narrowing his eyes at you.

“I’ve been flirting with you all day and you haven’t noticed me ONCE!” He complains slamming his hands on the bed.

“Really? When?” You ask him as he names off every instance today. “That was you flirting?” He felt a pang in his chest.

“Are you playing with me or something?” He deadpans but you were so very serious.

“Nope sorry.” You tell him as he pouts. He gets up and kisses you putting you in a daze.

“I’ve wanted a kiss this whole time.” He pouts holding your cheeks.

You blink slowly at him before nodding, “Noted.”

Sylus is such a sweetheart. A patient, loving, sweetheart. You were so clueless to his advances and it was kind of funny to him he won’t lie. He flirts with you and you take it literally. It made him and the twins laugh so hard to the point of tears.

You walked by him as he was reading and he decided to test you. He knew how you’d react and that was the fun in it. You were going out for the afternoon and were fixing your jeans.

“Do you have any room in your jeans for me, sweetie?” He smirks at you putting down his book. You raise an eyebrow at him. Of course you didn’t these were already tight as is.

“No? Why would you want to wear these with me in them?” You replied genuinely confused what his problem was.

The twins were wheezing from the doorway. You were always like this. They didn’t know if you were joking at first but now they know you’re dead serious. You look at them with your hands on your hips, concerned. What was so funny?

“What?” You didn’t appreciate being laughed at. You wanted to get the joke.

“Sweetie I’m flirting.” Sylus tells you through his laughter. A lightbulb goes off as your mouth makes an ‘O’.

“Oh…sorry.” You sheepishly replied. Sylus didn’t mind he thought you were hilarious.

You and Xavier are the same amount of aloof and everyone knows it. Xavier was subtly trying to flirt and you were not getting it. He thought he was pretty smooth though even if you didn’t get it. You were dressed up nice already for your date. Xavier couldn’t take his eyes off of you, he wanted to ravish you.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented you making you get shy. You wave him off, “Thanks.” His eyes grow dark as he thought of what to say next.

“It would look even better on the bedroom floor.” He smirks at you making you freeze and stare at him.

“What?” You raise your eyebrow. He smiles softly at you as if he didn’t say anything.

“I said it would look even better on the bedroom floor.” He repeated making you stare at him blankly.

“I don’t get it. Why would I do that? That’s making a mess.” You tell him crossing your arms. He chuckles before walking up to you and whispering in your ear.

“Oh! Xavier don’t be nasty!” You smack his arm making him fall out laughing. You were flustered the rest of the night because he kept flirting with you.

This took a minute but aye I hope I got it right 😅

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“No, man, I was talking to both of you. I mean he's hot but I have enough daddy issues of my own, thanks, I don’t need his too,” he says with a sigh. “I'm dating a different younger brother. Specifically one who is legal, legally adopted, and also is not actively murderous and did the least amount of time in the League of Assassins. Though apparently that’s just . . . not a thing here, I guess.” 

Dick and Jason stare blankly at him again. Even Jon stops sniffling into his shoulder long enough to give him a confused look of his own. Kon just tries to figure out how to explain literally anything about himself without having to say the word “clone” out loud in a reality that may not be all that clone-friendly. Said figuring does not “figure” very well. 

Or like . . . at all, really. 

Goddammit. 

“Who the fuck did any time in the League of Assassins?” Jason demands disbelievingly. 

“. . . don’t worry about it,” Kon says. “So like, uh . . . I can explain. Probably.” 

They all look at him again, up to and including Alfred, who somehow left and came back with tea without Kon even noticing and is now just barely raising an eyebrow at him. How the fuck he even made that so quick is beyond Kon. Doesn’t that shit need to steep or whatever? He feels like that shit needs to steep or whatever. 

“. . . okay,” Dick says slowly. “So when you say you’re not Superman, you mean . . . literally not Superman. As in, not Clark Kent.” 

“Bingo, World’s . . . eh, what’re you, Third-Greatest Detective, y’think?” Kon asks, cocking his head as he looks the guy over consideringly. 

“Bullshit, you look exactly like him!” Jason protests indignantly, pointing accusingly at him. It’s incredibly novel, as an experience, actually, given he’s not doing said pointing with the barrel of a gun. Like, whole new experience to be having with a version of Jason. 

“That is really not as rare a quality in the multiverse as you apparently think it is,” Kon says. “Actually it’s like . . . ridiculously common, in my experience.” 

“How?!” Jason demands, again like he just . . . what, thinks Kon’s gonna answer honestly? Like, genuinely appears to think that? 

Weird. 

“It is such a long story,” he says. “Or like, such a short story that I’d really prefer to see Batman’s immediate reaction to, just in case he feels like whipping out the kryptonite over it.” 

Technically this reality’s kryptonite shouldn’t work on him, but they’re all having a very weird interdimensional crisis right now and also it’s, like, the principle of the thing or whatever. Whether it works on him or not, when you get to the “whipping out the kryptonite” stage, you’ve kinda crossed the Bat-Rubicon or whatever. 

The bigger concern right now, though . . . well, like . . . 

“Wait, you’re not a version of my dad?” Jon asks uneasily, just barely tense in his arms. “You mean–not at all?” 

“Yeah, no, sorry,” Kon says, hoping that if he doesn’t make a big deal about it, the kid will at least, like . . . semi-match that energy. At least this version of Jon almost definitely hasn’t met an Ultraman, so . . . fingers fucking crossed, he guesses. He is being way too optimistic about this shit, frankly, but what the fuck else is he supposed to do with a literal ten year-old? “Thought you realized that earlier, and then the conversation got complicated.” 

“Then who are you?” Jon asks, looking even more uneasy. 

“I would love to have a concise answer to that question,” Kon says. “Like. Ever. Listen, I am sorry, kid, I wasn’t actually trying to pass for your dad. Hell, I wasn’t even trying to pass for their . . . also-dad, apparently, god that is so weird, I’m sorry.” 

“Bruce being our dad is weird?” Dick asks with a frown. 

“You specifically calling Bruce your dad is weird,” Kon clarifies, sparing him a quick glance. “Like, congrats on all the family therapy I’m assuming you did, seems like that worked out real well for you and all. Clearly did the work there.” 

“What?” Dick frowns, looking a little uneasy himself. Kon . . . probably should stop saying shit that’s going to make people associate, like, negative emotions and shit with his presence, considering. 

Like. Definitely he should, at this point. 

“Sorry,” he says again, then looks back to Jon. The kid hasn’t freaked out on him yet, at least, but he’s still pretty tense. Which . . . yeah, well, the kid saw him toss Killer Croc’s teakettle like less than half an hour ago, so probably he is feeling a lot less safe than he’s used to feeling right now. Especially a lot less safe than he’s used to feeling when he thought he was with his fucking dad. 

Kon really, really feels like an asshole over that. 

“Are you okay, kid?” he asks. “Like . . . you need me to put you down, or . . . ?” 

“I want my dad,” Jon says, abrupt and just barely cracked as he stares at Kon’s very El crest-less chest, his hands fisting in Kon’s jacket. 

“Sorry,” Kon repeats, trying not to visibly wince. “Like–listen, I meant it when I said I had you. And we are family, in my book. Like, I’m not your dad or even Superman, but I am a Kent. And an El, too. Though I’m assuming in your case you’re gonna care more about the ‘Kent’ part, far as I know my reality’s version of you’s never been all that concerned with, uh . . . any of the Kryptonian shit, gonna be honest. Which, like, I have a limited amount of dog in that race myself, just I was an ‘El’ first and–yeah, never mind. Sorry, rambling here. Uh. Do you need to put me down, or are you good right now?” 

“What’s your name?” Jon asks, rubbing anxiously at his big wet eyes, and Kon literally does not even know how to compute the question. It just . . . it is very much the last thing he would’ve expected the kid to ask him right now, he guesses. 

“Kon-El,” he says. “Conner Kent.” 

“. . . are you from Krypton? Like–from Kandor, or . . . ?” Jon asks hesitantly, and Kon . . . sighs, a little. He really did not wanna explain himself pre-Batman, but the literal ten year-old definitely deserves at least an explanation, at this point. 

Also he doesn’t want the kid to be worrying he’s from the fucking Phantom Zone, considering. So yeah. 

“Not so much, no,” Kon says.

[luvhughes43]

BOAT DAY | QUINN HUGHES

[MASTERLIST]

request: pregnant reader x quinn hughes lake day on the boat?

word count: 0.4k + insta edit

note: this is a repost of one of my fics thats since been deleted <3

“boat day! boat day! boat day! boat day!” trevor chanted as you, quinn, and the rest of the hughes brothers walked down to the dock. quinn got onto the boat first and grabbed a hold of your hand as he helped you climb into the boat. “thank you!” you smiled cheerfully, and quinn beamed back at you. his hand rested on the small of your back as you made your way to the front of the boat to sit down.

you smiled at the boys' shared looks and smirks as they all nodded towards quinn who was now rummaging through his bag. your boy was especially protective over you now that you were pregnant and everyone knew it.  “what are you looking for baby?” you prompted quinn who sat up in his seat at your words. 

 “sunscreen,” quinn said, handing you a tube of sunscreen from his bag. he watched as you lazily applied the cream to your legs before anxiously telling you to give the tube back to him. “here, let me do it babe” he whispered into your skin as he started lathering the sunscreen generously across your back and down your body. 

“water,” quinn reminded you a little while later, pulling out a plastic bottle from the cooler and passing it over to you. you graciously accepted it, sipping the drink and peeking at quinn through the corner of your eye. ever since you had gotten pregnant he had become ten times more protective over you. protectiveness wasnt new for quinn. he had always been attentive of your needs but your pregnancy had sent things into overdrive. he was constantly checking in on you and making sure you and the baby were comfortable. even though his attentiveness got overwhelming sometimes, seeing the instant relief of anxiety and stress lift from quinn made you want to endure his questions and aids ten times over. 

“hat?” quinn asked, not even letting you answer as he pulled his own hat off his head and settled it on top of yours. you hummed, leaning your head against your husband's shoulder as you tried to hide your smile. you just loved him so much.

“thank you quinny,” you murmured, shifting so that you were looking out onto the water. quinn hummed in response as he ran his hand through your hair to help relax you.  the breeze, combined with the hum of the boat's motor and the rock tunes playing from jacks speaker quickly had you drifting off to sleep. 

ynhughes just posted !

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, _eliaspettersson, and others

ynhughes boat days💘

tagged: _quinnhughes

view all comments

_quinnhughes My whole heart❤️❤️

jackhughes cringe

ynhughes jackhughes if u dont leave us alone…

ynhughes _quinnhughes i love you😭❤️

trevorzegras No feature? I was there too btw!

ynhughes did u wipe the water off the seats so i could sit down and not get wet? I don't think soo…

trevorzegras Well

trevorzegras Quinny boy is too fast i can't do nothing to help cuz he's already done it

_quinnhughes exactly👍

yourbff you're the cutest🥹🥹 love and miss u

ynhughes love you so much! and i miss u too😭💘

fan43 theyre so cute im cryinggg

fan22 baby hughes😭🫶

-

-

-

[er1nne]

hi! i’m the anon who requested a new part for “the interview with drew goes viral”. you actually posted it on my birthday, so i’m sending you a huge thanks, really.

i absolutely loved it and i also wouldn’t mind if you wanted to turn this into a series too hahah.

the two of them 🥺🥺🥺 i love that drew is going to the coffee shop after her, would love to see how their relationship grows! i’m in love with them and with the you you write. thanks again!!!

hope you’re doing well, have a nice weekend xxx

another run in with drew ♡

part one, part two, part three

author's note: love how this had become a series lol, also series masterlist coming soon. give me ideas on what you want to see, your wishes are my command

(do not copy or plagiarize, original work)

You haven’t seen Drew since the coffee shop. No texts. No calls. No accidental likes on Instagram stories. Just that strange little moment—quiet, simple, unexpected—followed by nothing but silence. A silence you didn’t have time to question, at least not out loud.

Work swept you under fast. One interview turned into five, turned into twelve. There were red eyes and red carpets, layovers that bled into morning glam, emails marked urgent that weren’t, and endless voice notes from your assistant reminding you to drink water or, God forbid, actually sit down and eat. You’ve been floating from event to event, mic in hand, pretending the whirlwind is normal.

And maybe it is. Maybe this is just what success feels like when it comes all at once.

But somewhere in the back of your mind—between camera flashes and client lists—you still think about that coffee. The way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the lid. The way he looked at you like you were someone worth pausing for. Not performing for. Just… seeing.

You never followed up. Neither did he. So maybe that’s where it ends.

Until now.

You’re back on the red carpet, badge clipped, mic wired, heels biting into the carpet just enough to remind you to stand tall. Another night. Another venue. Another lineup of stars and stylists and agents crowding every inch of the step-and-repeat. Ironically enough, for a Drew Starkey interview. Even when you can't make time to see him personally the universe has a funny way of putting you two together. Meant to be? who knows.

You try not to think too hard about it—don’t give it weight. You’re here to work. You’re here to do your job. Not to chase the what-ifs of a man who left your texts untyped and your mind way too occupied on nights when you should’ve been sleeping.

Still, your fingers tighten around the mic just slightly as you read down the list of arrivals. Tom Blyth is slotted ahead of Drew. You know Tom. He’s warm, low-maintenance, the kind of actor who gives thoughtful answers and makes your job easy. You ground yourself in that—small wins. Familiar rhythms.

Your team gives you the signal, and you step forward into the chaos of flashbulbs and pre-show nerves. The cameras sweep toward you and Tom as he arrives, his publicist giving you a nod. You settle into the interview, asking your usual questions—questions you could probably recite in your sleep by now. He smiles, laughs, says something about the director’s process. You nod, respond, push the conversation where it needs to go. It’s smooth. Effortless. Just how it’s supposed to be.

Your heels click into place on the press line, the carpet beneath you plush but just unstable enough to remind you you’re balancing on borrowed time—and four inches of designer expectation. The noise is a hum—paparazzi flashes, producers shouting cues, the murmur of industry air kisses and small talk no one really means.

Then you see him.

Tom Blyth moves through the crowd like it’s parting for him on instinct. All charm and movie-star ease, dressed in something sharp and tailored, the kind of suit that looks effortless but costs more than your entire monthly invoice report. The lapels lie just right, the fabric catching the camera flashes like it knows it’s being watched. He carries himself like someone who’s used to being looked at—and knows exactly what to do with that attention.

When he stops in front of you, the grin he offers is the kind you feel—not just see. It’s practiced, yes, but not fake. It lands with just enough weight to leave a mark.

You hold your mic steady and smile back, but the energy shifts the second he opens his mouth.

“Well, well,” he says as he stops in front of you, eyeing your mic, then your face, “didn’t expect to see the best-dressed person here holding the microphone. Shouldn’t you be on this side with the rest of us?”

You smile, professional but just shy of bashful. “Careful, Tom. Keep sweet-talking me like that and I might start charging for compliments.”

“Go ahead,” he says, laughing. “As long as you let me expense it under ‘networking.’”

He winks, and you try not to let your shoulders tense under the cameras. “Let’s talk about the film, yeah? You’ve worked with some heavy hitters this year. What drew you to this script?”

He leans in slightly, enough for you to catch a trace of his cologne—something warm, amber, expensive. “Besides the fact that it gave me a reason to show up and see you again?” He pauses, grin widening. “I liked how human it felt. Honest. Flawed. I’ve been chasing those kinds of roles lately. But this one hit different.”

You nod, genuinely engaged, your mic lifting instinctively. “Do you think audiences are ready to see you in something that vulnerable? Or do you still like being everyone’s golden boy?”

“Depends,” he says. “Would you still like me if I wasn’t?”

Before you can even come up with a reply—witty or otherwise—a voice cuts through the noise, low and unmistakably familiar.

“Now he’s trying to steal my favorite interviewer.”

You turn.

Drew stands just behind Tom, casual but calculated, hands in his pockets, eyes trained on you like he’s trying to read the punchline before you’ve even delivered it.

Tom steps back half an inch, amusement flashing across his face. “Well, didn’t know I was stepping on any toes.”

“Not toes. Just territory.” Drew’s tone is light, but the message is there, coded in the way his eyes flick to you, then back to Tom like a reflex.

Tom glances between the two of you, catching it. “Didn’t mean to step on anything,” he says, chuckling under his breath. “Or anyone.”

You force a smile—tight, professional—and tilt the mic toward Drew without looking directly at him. “We’re all friends here. Right?”

“Sure we are,” Drew murmurs, eyes still on you. He doesn’t blink when you finally meet his gaze. He just lifts one brow slightly, like he knows something you don’t want to admit out loud.

Tom excuses himself down the line, sensing the shift, and you don’t blame him. The moment he walks away, the noise around you fades into a blur. Your crew’s still watching. Cameras still pointed. But all you feel is him.

Then he leans in closer—like he’s adjusting something on his suit, like he’s letting you fix his mic—but his mouth is right by your ear.

“Long week?” he asks, voice low.

Your breath catches before you can stop it. You don’t turn to face him, just nod slightly, lips pressed together. “Busy.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Too busy for coffee, huh? Maybe dinner works better instead.”

You slightly hold your mouth agape with a surprised smile decorates your face. You swallow hard. He’s not wrong.

“Sure, it that will make it up to you.”

"How about tonight? If you’re not busy after the premiere.”

You pause. Then add— Then: “There's not a such thing as 'too busy'. It’s a date, then.”

The words fall out softer than you expect, almost natural, and the moment they land, both of you flinch—just a little.

“Promise.”

That gets him.

He doesn’t smile—but something in his expression shifts. Softens. You feel the shift in his body before you see it—his shoulders ease, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s forcing stillness. He doesn’t smile, not exactly, but something in his face unlocks. Like your words knocked the wind out of him for half a second.

And then—

You turn your head. Just slightly. Just enough for your mouth to hover where his had been.

“Tell me something,” you whisper, breath warm against his skin. “Are you the jealous type?”

He goes still. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink. Just still.

One beat. Two.

And suddenly it’s like everyone around you vanishes. The press. The handlers. Even the cameras seem quieter. Because anyone watching now sees it—the way his hand flexes at his side. The way your smile lifts just barely, slow and knowing. The air between you buzzes, hot and thick and impossible to ignore.

Then you smile for the camera—tight, sweet, unreadable. “We’re rolling, Starkey. You ready?”

He pulls back, expression unreadable. “Always.”

You lift the mic, voice smooth. “Drew Starkey, star of tonight’s premiere, joining us now…”

And just like that, you fall back into the rhythm. But your pulse is nowhere near calm. And neither is he.

And just like that, you’re back on script—two professionals, poised and polished.

But your pulse is nowhere near calm.

And his? His jaw ticks once. His eyes don’t leave you.

But this is anything but far from over.

[thefeverburningalive]

Spencer reid x fem reader

Frinds to lovers

I mean, he is so in love with her

𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢

spencer reid x fem! reader <3

a/n: tysm for the request babes! feel free to send in your requests i love the inspooo. i decided to use one of my favorite billie eilish songs as inspiration since it always reminds me of spender <3. i love writing fics based on songs so also feel free to request song based fics too.

genre: fluff <3

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯•✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

wake up and smell the coffee, is your cup half full or empty?

the smell of coffee hit you as soon as you walked into the break room of the bullpen. after the last case, you’d been having trouble sleeping- which is something that comes along with the grueling job. “good morning y/n, coffee?” spencer’s warm voice flooded your ears. no matter how bad the days got, spencer was the highlight of said days. over the past three months your feelings for spencer have changed. he’d been your closest friend on the team, aside from penelope, since you’d joined. but recently you’ve been wanting to be more than just friends.

when we talk, you say it softly. but i love it when you’re. awfully quiet.

“yes please, thank you spence.” you spoke just as soft back, admiring spencer as he smiled and nodded while pouring some coffee into a mug. not just any mug, but ‘your’ mug. on your first day at the bau, you’d had dropped and broken a mug- and you where so upset and embarrassed about it. the next day, spencer bought a white mug decorated with small flowers, and designated it as yours without saying so. he poured the creamer and sugar into the mug as well, knowing exactly how you liked your coffee. spencer slid the mug next to you, and you picked it up with a bright smile.

you see, the peice of paper. could be a little greater.

two hours later you, spencer, and the rest of the team where sat in the jet. “this is so funsies i never get to come on the jet!” penelope was beaming across from you. “i brought some card games cmon guys let’s play!” so you, pen, spencer and derek played the silly game she brought. as you exchange cards back and fourth and continue the game, you find yourself constantly losing. you’re not a sore loser- but sometimes being on a team full of the smartest people in virginia has its downsides. there are days where you doubt your own intelligence. after the fourth time losing you sigh in defeat as derek re-shuffles and passes out cards. you start to zone out a bit while playing, almost giving up, until you feel a hand over your wrist. the warmth of spencer’s eyes when you look up at him sends shivers down your spine. he gives you a smile before retracting his hand. as you look down, you notice he’s slipped a winning card into your own hand.

show me, what you could make her. you never know until you try it.

a pit of jealously bubbled in your stomach as you listened to derek go on about the two women who continued to flirt with spencer. “boy genius skipped out on not one pretty girls number- but two! man i’m bringing rossi to the next bar i have to interview.” the team laughed and talked while spencer sat looking somewhat uncomfortable. you hadn’t noticed your own silence until you caught spencer’s sight. his eyes looked into yours, his expression unreadable. he mouthed ‘are you okay?’ to you with a furrowed brow. deciding that saying no was unacceptable, you settled on a smile and nod combination. spencer nodded in response with his own smile, despite not fully believing your answer. “so.. why turn them down reid?” emilys question made you snap back into the conversation. “uh well.. i don’t know i guess they aren’t really my type.” for a split second you’re almost sure he looks in your direction as he says that. “or maybe he’s just not looking to be in the dating scene.” jj was the next to speak up during the discussion. spencer shrugged at her comment. “you never know.” was all he responded with.

and you don’t have to keep it quiet.

to say this case had been rough was an understatement. it was taking a tole on the team for sure, but especially you. tears flowed from your eyes as you paced back and fourth inside your hotel room, your mind running a million miles an hour. before you could think about what to do next- you trip over a pair of shoes you’d left in the middle of the room. you fell to the ground ungrateful, managing to knock a few other things over. an exhausted growl/shout escaped your lips. everything was just getting too much for you. the tears continued to fall as you just sat on the floor exasperated. about five minutes later you hear a soft knock at your door. stumbling up- you open it, finding spencer standing there in some lose grey sweat pants and a black tshirt. if your brain wasn’t short circuiting before- it definitely was now. “s-spencer? what’re you doing here..” you tried to quickly wipe your tears but it was pointless. “i heard a bang and you yell.. i just wanted to make sure you were alright.” spencer was reading you like an open book. he had a feeling this case was getting to be a lot for you. more tears welled in your eyes “im so sorry- i-i wasn’t trying to be loud i fell and then i just-“ the feeling of spencer’s arms around you cut off your sentance. he tucked you head beneath his chin, making you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “it’s okay y/n. you don’t have to hide and be silent. i’m here for you.”

and i know it makes you nervous. but i promise you it’s worth it.

the only thing on your mind the rest of the following day was spencer. the way it felt to be in his arms, the smell of his cologne, the way his thumb traced little circles onto your back. spencer was suffocating your mind. it wasn’t uncommon for you to constantly think about spencer some days- but today was different, because for the first time spencer actually showed a sign of maybe liking you more than a friend. this wasn’t the first time you’ve tried convincing yourself he had feelings for you. but it is the first time there’s actual proof. the line between being best friends and being lovers was growing increasingly thin. as much as you want to be together you feared you were at risk for losing the most important person weapon in your life right now. he was just within your reach. but the anxiety swarmed your mind and your nerves simply wouldn’t let you. no matter if it was worth it or not.

to show em’ everything you kept inside, don’t hide. don’t hide.

“uhm, spence?” the night had been like any other night at your apartment. chips, dips, and sci fi movies that spencer loves to make you watch. as the movie progressed, spencer seemed to get closer and closer to your side by the second. by the time his thigh was up against yours underneath the thin blanket sprawled between yours and his laps. that’s what led you to begin the conversation- that and the fact that the movie had finally ended. “yes?” it was hard to focus on the task at hand when he was looking at you with this big brown eyes. he tilted his head slightly when you didn’t answer at first. “i wanted to uh- well i wanted to talk about… something serious?” you didn’t mean for it to come out as a question; but your brain was already struggling to form the sentences. “of course, is everything alright?” spencer had a tone of worry in his voice. “n-no yeah everything fine i just.. well i’ve been kinda keeping something- from you- and i uhm. i don’t think i want to hide it anymore.” at this point you were looking down at your hands, fiddling with the end of the blanket beneath you. spencer didn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt your thoughts. “i’ve been too shy to say, but i..” you took a deep in-hail. “i like you spencer. in a more-than-friends type of like. a-and i don’t know how uhm- well how you feel but i couldn’t stop feeling like this i tried to hide it or stop it b-but i can’t. i feel so strongly for you and i-i just.. had to tell you. i get it if y-you don’t feel the same.. or if you want to leave .. but i hope you stay.” you felt like all the air had been stolen from your lungs. the words came so rapidly out of your mouth you didn’t even have time to properly think before you spoke- you didn’t even know there were tears in your eyes. you didn’t dare look up at spencer. you were filled with embarrassment and shame. you thought about getting up and apologizing- but before you could finish you felt his hand cup your cheek. the warmth of his hand added to the heat already in your face. his thumb wiped a tear that dared to spill from your eye. “don’t hide away.” that was all he said before his soft lips reached your own.

come out and play.

[jacksonsturniolo]

warnings .ᐟ — nick is 40, theo is nineteen, IT IS LEGAL. Very tense, Theo a twink fr, dom nick 😫>>>, cheating, mentions of boners, almost belt fondling? I edged you all no actual smut sorry 💔

a/n — so I attempted at this, also I’m tired as fuck and In the mood to be messy. This is ass. Also thank you Fenton for helping me!! 🙏. everyone thank Rose because my sarcastic ass almost made nick bald for this 😭

dilf.ᐟnick paired with Theo (aka his daughter’s boyfriend, I know I’m so messy 😫.)

knock knock.

Theos’ hand fell back to his side, his green eyes flickering across the familiar sight of his girlfriends house. 

he wasn’t supposed to come over today considering him and Eva didn’t make any plans but he was bored, so like any nineteen year old who had a girlfriend that was his first instinct. 

the door swung open snapping him out of his daze — Nick, one of her dads. He was wearing a black wife beater, baggy jeans, and a pair of glasses.

No one could deny he was an attractive man, especially not Theo.

It started off as a small joke — to himself mainly, yet as time went on and the more he went over to Eva’s Theo just came flat out thirsty for any attention he could get from Nick.

“Oh she’s not here bud sorry.” Nicks voice snaps him out of yet another daze causing Theo to nervously shift onto his other foot.

“Oh uhm yeah sorry i forgot they were going on a trip.” Theo nervously rambled out, his words rushed.

“No no it’s all good.” Nick murmured, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. His blue eyes met Theos’ green ones the two sharing a split second of eye contact before Theo broke it.

“I should uhm probably get going.” Theo said again, in that same nervous tone he always had.

Nick shook his head. “Nonsense, you came all the way over here the least I could do is offer you a snack?” Nick mumbled, the smirk on his face not doing anything to help ease Theos nerves.

once the two were inside, Theo was sat on the couch, his shoulders tense his eyes focused on the ground, and his leg shaking.

up and down up and down up and—

he jumped slightly when two hands landed on his shoulders, they squeezed slightly before beginning to massage.

“Why are you so nervous…hm?” Nicks deep raspy voice murmured, so quietly but Theo heard it. “Am I making you nervous?” He questioned.

Theo let out a shaky exhale, his shoulders dropping as he slightly relaxed still tense — just not as tense.

“No sir.” The boy breathed out.

Nick let out a deep hum before pulling his hands away.

He slowly made his way around the couch before stopping in front of Theo. He slightly kneeled in front of the nervous boy, the brunettes dark blue eyes locking with Theos.

“Are you lying to me?” Nick questioned, his big hands falling onto Theos thighs, dangerously high up.

Theo tensed even more, his green eyes squinting shut before he nodded letting out a shaky defeated sigh.

Nick let out a thoughtful hum before trailing his right hand further up Theos thigh.

“And why’d you lie to me? Nick murmured out lowly, his voice was different full of nothing but lust.

Theo peeled his eyes open before biting down on his lip, not answering nicks question.

“Cat got your tongue?” Nick slightly snapped. “You know Theo I always thought you were such a good boy, buying my daughter flowers, taking her to prom, treating her like the only woman in the world just how she deserves.” He starts, each sentence his hands travel up higher and higher.

“But,” Nick continued, his hand now traveling down. “I always see you staring at me, always leaving in a rush whenever we have a conversation.” He continues, his hands now resting on the boys knees. “Acting like I can’t see your pathetic boner.”

Theo let out a shaky whimper, slightly bucking his hips up before Nick grabbed them and held him down onto the couch firmly.

“See what i mean.” Nick spits out lowly, his hands now traveling back up Theos thighs. “Pathetic, such a bad fucking boy.”

Just as nick went to fondle with Theos belt the front door opened, Eva and Milo making their way inside.

Nicks whole demeanor changed, a smile appearing on his face at the sight of his husband and daughter.

“Hi hon.” Nick said softly as he stood up fully. “I was just helping Theo here with a gift basket for evie.” He whispered the last sentence like it was a secret, like it was an innocent secret.

But it wasn’t so innocent.

Eva tugged Theo to his feet dragging him down the hall, sharing one last glance with Nick before being tugged into Eva’s room.

tags because I’m an annoying hoe — @nickssidewitch @thenickgirl @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo @fentiesturns @kier-with-a-k @mattybsgroupie @sturnsblogs

yall better comment to be on a taglist 😫.

me frowning if you don’t: ☹️

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

New Friend (Bob Reynolds x Reader) part two  

word count: 1k

part 2 of ?

previous part: part one

masterlist

Bob decides to text you that night. After all, if he wants to form more friendships, he should probably reach out to you. So after a quick discussion with Yelena of what he should text you, he sends you a message. 

Hi, it’s Bob from book club :) 

“Okay, now you have to put the phone down and don’t check it until it dings,” Yelena plugs the phone back in.

“Why can’t I just wait?” Bob asks.

“Oh, Bob, we all do this. We stare at the phone and we reload the page, or we open and close the app or phone, and we wait and we wait for a reply that doesn’t come, and then we get sad and then—” Yelena is cut off by the phone dinging. Bob glances at the phone then back up at Yelena, who shrugs. You texted him back.

Hey Bob, good to hear from you!

“What…what do I say next?” Bob questions aloud. 

“Oh, c’mere,” Yelena picks up the phone, types a message, and sends. 

“Wha…? Yelena,” Bob complains. 

“It’s going to work,” Yelena assures with a nod. 

Bob picks up the phone to read the text that Yelena had sent from him to you. 

Yeah! Really liked book club so far. Have you read any other good books later?

Bob looks back up at Yelena. “How is this good?” Yelena shrugs. You respond a moment later. 

Totally! I just finished The Midnight Library. Kind of heartbreaking but hopeful, you know?

Bob stares at the message. “What do I say to that? I haven’t read that one.”

Yelena, arms crossed, suggests, “Say you haven’t read it, but you’d like to. Because you’d like to talk to her more. That’s how books work, right? Brains… talking.”

“…I guess?”

He types, deletes, retypes, and finally sends:

I haven’t read that one. Should I? I trust your taste.

Yelena whistles. “Smooth, Bob. You’re learning.”

The next text comes. 

Definitely! I have a copy if you want to borrow it :)

Bob reads that line four times.

“She wants to lend me a book,” he whispers. “That’s…a good sign, right?”

Yelena nods like it’s obvious. “Next step: hangout. Suggest a time. Offer snacks. Everyone likes snacks.”

He hesitates, then types:

That would be great. Maybe I could bring coffee or something and we could read together?

“I like it! Everybody loves coffee!” Yelena cheers. 

Alexei pokes his head in through the door. “Are we making coffee or…?”

“No, Dad, it’s six pm. No coffee. I’m helping Bob right now,” Yelena informs, and Alexei nods and leaves. 

Your text arrives a second later. 

I would love that!

“Good, good. Come up with a time and a place. Go to the bookstore, you know she goes to the bookstore,” Yelena suggests, leaning over Bob’s shoulder to read the text conversation and what he types as he types it. 

Bob nods, and begins wording his reply back to you.

Can we meet at the bookstore café?

A moment. Then your answer.

Yeah! Tomorrow afternoon good?

Bob grins. Definitely, yes. 

“I’m so proud of you, Bob!” Yelena cheers and wraps her arms around him, hugging him so tightly that Bob feels like he might just die. But it’s nice, coming from Yelena. She’s awesome. 

You two meet at a quiet corner table in the bookstore café the next afternoon. Bob shows up ten minutes early, already rereading the text thread like a study guide. He brings a small notebook, pens, and his phone—just in case.

When you arrive, he stands too quickly and knocks over a chair. But you laugh instead of flinching. That helps.

“It’s good to see you again!” you smile. You hand him the book. 

“Oh, thanks,” Bob replies softly, happy but really, really nervous. 

You sit, read, and talk a little between chapters. There’s a gentle peace about it. Bob doesn’t feel the Void tugging at the edges of his mind. Not here.

When you have to go home, you give him a side hug. After all, you’ve only recently met him. But it makes butterflies dance in Bob’s stomach. And it definitely doesn’t help that he’s got Can’t Touch This stuck in his head. Why are the butterflies dancing in sync…?

When he gets home, Bob finds Yelena already waiting with Alexei, both sipping tea suspiciously.

“I thought that was a British thing,” Bob says, putting his tote bag down on the ground next to him. 

“It’s a me thing now,” Yelena informs. 

“Oh, okay.”

“So…?” Yelena prods with an excited smile. 

“It was nice,” Bob nods, smiling a little. “It was nice.”

“Would you care to elaborate, share some more details with us maybe?” Alexei asks hopefully. 

Yelena cocks her head, then leans toward Alexei’s cup and smells it. “That’s not tea, that’s alcohol!”

“IT IS A LIQUID EITHER WAY.”

Bob laughs—a real laugh, full and warm, the kind that surprises even him. Yelena grins, victorious. Alexei shrugs and takes another sip of “tea.”

“I think we’re going to hang out again soon,” Bob admits, settling into the armchair. “She lent me a book. We read together. It was… really peaceful.”

“That’s so wholesome I could cry,” Yelena wipes an invisible tear, then immediately grabs Bob’s arm. “You like her, don’t you?”

Bob looks down at the cover of The Midnight Library. “I think I could,” he says honestly.

Alexei leans back in his chair. “Just don’t mess it up. Or bring shame to our coffee.”

Yelena rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He once tried to impress a girl by deadlifting a vending machine.”

“It worked,” Alexei mutters.

Bob clutches the book closer to his chest, smiling softly to himself.

He doesn’t know exactly what this is—what it could become—but for once, the unknown doesn’t feel terrifying.

Bob feels now like he’s opening up a new chapter in his life, one that seems to involve reading a lot of chapters in books from you.

taglist

@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

just thunderbolts/bob

@papitas-con-sal @yesshewrites1

[iceman-kazansky]

Smiles, Sun, and Unsaid Feelings

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: anon, by ask

Request: "will you be writing any Mika Hakkinen or Kimi Raikkonen fics?"

Pairings: Kimi Raikkonen x f!reader

Warnings: Probably unrealistic dialogue, alcohol consumed, Nando is a flirt, 2006 F1 season

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: This kinda took awhile. I was going to write this a week ago (for the 7th,) and I had it ALMOST finished but had school shit thrown on me and now I'm away on holiday. So, what better time to do it then now?

Taglist: @anamiad00msday

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Kimi was a tough nut to crack.

He was aloof, appearing closed off to all onlookers. He was difficult for press and didn't have much of an opinion on anything, always giving short answers to in depth questions. Kimi didn't mind, though, as long as it kept nosy reporters and crowded cameras out of his face, he'd do anything.

Another factor of his personality was, in short, a lack of friends. Sure, he had plenty of acquaintances, but were they really friends? They didn’t know what he was like outside of racing. His personal life.

It wasn't that the iceman didn't want friends, rather that he couldn't be bothered to make new ones.

But he also was beyond content keeping many people in the acquaintance zone. He deeply cherished his privacy.

He stood off to the side of the garage, getting ready for qualifying.

The 2006 season was mid way through when Montoya left Mclaren for good.

Kimi didn't necessarily feel too down about it, he had remained purely cordial with the Columbian.

He saw you step into the garage, clad in racing gear with a helmet tucked under your arm and pressed to your side. At first, he didn't believe you were his team mate. Perhaps an engineer or a mechanic, but a fellow driver? No way.

You were the first to introduce yourself to him. Sauntering up to him without a speck of hesitancy, you reached out and offered to shake hands.

“Hi!” You said, voice cheery.

It was then that you smiled. You beamed a hearty smile that stretched from ear to ear.

Kimi could've sworn he'd been blinded. Teeth so bright they seemed to shine and shimmer. He'd never seen something so.. so bright. Friendly. Outgoing.

He didn't realize it, but from that moment onward, he was hooked.

Kimi didn't return the smile, only offering a small nod to you. His ears burned red hot and he felt strangely awkward.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Kimi wasn't particularly interested in being friends with you. He had made that much clear. Or atleast, that's what you'd made out his reserved persona as.

But you were determined.

Hot summer sun beat down on you, feeling like every second you stood under its gaze you darkened with tan.

So, what better day for a cold snack?

With two ice-cream cones in hand, you weaved through the many people on the grid to your team garage.

You managed to get close to Kimi, standing beside him. Gently nudging him with your shoulder you presented one of the cold treats to him.

For a long minute he just stared, ice blue eyes flickering from you to the ice cream cone. It looked like he was contemplating or considering something, his brows pinched together and a quizzical look fell into his gaze.

Eventually, Kimi took the ice cream cone, mumbling– or grumbling, you weren't quite sure– a very quiet ‘thank you’.

But what you could've swore you'd seen on his face a moment before was just an ounce of shock. And that was enough to keep you determined to befriend the reserved driver even more.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The minute you'd climbed out of your car you looked for Kimi.

Your team had reported that he'd had some technical malfunction mid lap but said nothing else.

It was only after the fact that you exited your car that you found out he had walked off the track and went straight to his yacht.

You imagined he'd be upset over the race; no racer would have been jumping with joy after his incident. Kimi had made it well over half way through the race before unfortunately ending up out on lap 50 due to a mechanical issue.

So, doing the only thing you thought suitable, you sought him out– bringing an offering that was in hope of comforting him and being a good friend.

Or atleast, being a good friend is what you'd told yourself. That there was nothing besides friendly intentions, is what you resorted to claiming. Only, your heart had it twisted. Your emotions had already acted like a fishing hook, thrown straight into the flesh of your heart by his cool blue eyes and ocean vast personality. Kimi had you hooked.

Others may not agree with the ‘ocean vast’, but they were very wrong. Kimi was unique. He was reserved yet still cared about those around him. He wasn't outgoing, eager to meet new people, but he wasn't disinterested in maintaining a friend once you'd gotten there. Sure, it may have taken a bit more effort on your side, but before long you'd chipped through that glacier-tough outside to discover his real self. The one he had put aside for friends only, tucked away from media and press and the other competitors. Kimi wasn't as he appeared, he never had been and it only took a bit of time and observation skills to see that.

Before long, you were at his yacht. Kimi looked shocked when you appeared on the ramp of his boat, still clad in your racing gear and a smile on your face. “Hey,” you greeted, raising a hand slightly to showcase the items you'd run to get as soon as you'd found out about his incident.

In your hand sparkled a bottle of liquor, glinting under the sun. Then, Kimi grinned. His lips tilted up and he genuinely smiled. The action almost made you drop the bottle in shock, luckily, however, you managed to snap out of it and keep your grip on the glass. He may have been feeling upset, but your inclination of bringing a comfort of sorts had him feeling grateful beyond his own words.

And his smile was worth a thousand words to you.

You were welcomed onto Kimi's boat then, the two of you cracking open the liquor and sitting in the shade provided by the boat.

The liquor goes by quicker than you'd imagined.

By the bottom of the bottle you've moved closer, sitting shoulder to shoulder, thighs pressing together while your hands almost touch, lingering a hair's breadth away from each other.

You converse animatedly with Kimi, even if you're the one doing a majority of the talking.

Kimi didn't mind it, though. His head, which previously felt weighted by the loud swirling thoughts, had cleared. Something likely because of your presence.

You're mid story, telling him about some childhood thing you remember when he closes that distance with his hand.

You stop talking, shocked by his action. In your chest, your heart does somersaults, flipping and beating wildly against your ribs. Your eyes dart down to his hand, which tentatively touches yours. Slowly, you reciprocate the action, moving to shift your hand into his. He spreads his fingers and you take the initiative to lace them together.

For Kimi, it's a grounding tactic and a way to show how grateful he is for you. He'd never been one for words, so instead he chose to show his emotion by holding your hand.

Nobody says anything, instead taking the moment silently. Neither of you know what it means to the other, or how the action mirrors an unknown, unspoken affection that’d been brewing for a while.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

The end of the season rolled up quickly. The Monaco incident was far from forgotten to either of you, rather pushed away by the lightning-paced world of Formula 1. It was the evening after Brazil, the final race of the season.

Most of the drivers had gone out to a local bar, deciding to get shitfaced in celebration of what they would argue a successful season.

Kimi sips on a Hardwall Long, a drink of gin and grapefruit soda. The bitter yet sweet mixture dances on his lips as he swallows a mouthful.

Across the bar, you sip your own drink. You know Kimi is here, but you're content while off on your own or meeting new people.

A presence makes itself known to you, leaning against the bartop and flashing a charming smile at you. Immediately, you recognize the face of the Championship winner and fellow driver, Fernando Alonso. His hair peeks out from behind his ears, brown locks waving hello.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks politely, gesturing to your almost empty glass. When he speaks, his Spanish accent is thick and rather nice on your ears.

But you don't care for the Spaniards' speech, you've already got your own accented man – whose voice lingers even now in the back of your mind,– to charm your ears.

You smile at Fernando, but politely decline, “I'm good but thank you, Nando. Congratulations on winning the championship, by the way.”

Little did you know that on the other side of the bar, you've caught none other than The Iceman's attention.

It's rare for the Fin to change expressions often– he's simply a man wearing a neutral face most of the time. But as of now, his eyes have narrowed uncharacteristically more, face pulling together in an expression of pure jealousy. Though, Kimi wouldn't really admit that out loud.

Fernando doesn't stick around too long after that, he just flashes you another smile and makes a comment about ‘still being there if you change your mind, hermosa’ before slipping away.

It isn't long before another figure stands beside you, only this time he seems.. off.

You turn your eyes to look at Kimi. He's got this subtle, sour look on his face, like he's just sucked on a lemon. It's unnatural on him, something you're unaccustomed with.

“Is everything alright, Kimi?” you ask, feeling concern.

He doesn't look at you, instead glaring at some object across the bar. “What did he want?”

“Alonso?” you ask, eyeing Kimi suspiciously, “he just wanted to buy me a drink.”

Kimi's eyes dart to the bar top, where a half-finished drink of yours sits. You can see his jaw clench while he simply hums.

“Let me take you on a date.”

“What?”

Kimi stares at you now, icy blue eyes trained on yours. He's serious and there isn't a speck of joke or jab in his speech.

“I promise it'll be better than whatever that.. Kusipää,” the foreign word slides off his tongue smoothly, alien to your ears, “has to offer.”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. Out of everything you expected to come from Kimi's mouth, his offer to take you on a date was not one of them. It wasn't even in the ballpark.

“He didn't ask me on a date,” you say, feeling confused. This whole thing feels confusing and like a big misunderstanding. Like a trick.

“My offer still stands.”

Something in his voice has you doubting your previous thought. How could he sound so sincere and be deceiving? It would be far-fetched. Even more so when you meet his gaze and see the genuine ask present in his eyes.

“Then I'd be honoured, Kimi,” you say, smiling at last. Your heart has taken that leap of faith.

He nods, and for a split second a smile graces his lips. You're thrown back to Monaco, even just for a short time, where he's smiling at you and you're smiling at him with booze in hand. He checks his phone before turning back to you, “let's get out of this place.”

The night was still young, and outside of the bar, within the city of Sao Paulõ, it was alive. Kimi extended his hand and you took it instantly, letting him lead you out of the bar.

[lovelybucky1]

dad!matt discovering you have degradation kink by accident and you're all embarrassed and tell him to forget about it but he's stubborn and honestly the fact that you're embarrassed only makes it easier to use that discovery against you. why is he so mean 😔

btw i'm in love with your blog, honestly as someone raised in a catholic environment even though i know it's okay to like a lot of things, i do sometimes feel idk... guilty? and places like your blog make me feel valid and i wanted to thank you for that

this warms my heart so much. i know im just a faceless smut writer on tumblr but im so glad that my writing has an impact on people. i appreciate you reading!! 🫶

even if you had a convincing poker face, it’d be useless against matt. he can tell when you’re lying before you even do so. honestly, there’s no point in him even asking you questions other than wanting to hear you say the answers out loud.

“c’mon, you can tell me. what are your deep, dark fantasies?” he asks, chuckling as you lounge on the couch together. your feet rest in his lap and his hand covers your shin, rubbing small circles over your skin.

“i don’t have any,” you say, matching his laughter.

matt’s smile shifts into more of a smirk and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side. “yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t,” you insist.

“i know when you’re lying, sweetheart.” he shifts so he’s facing you and he grabs your hands, holding them gently. “you know you can tell me anything.”

“it’s really not a big deal, i swear. just forget it.”

“you told me you wanted to call me dad in bed. how could this be any more embarrassing than that?” he teases, and in retaliation, you attempt to kick him in the chest, but he catches your ankle. “i can start guessing if you want.”

“dad,” you huff, pulling your foot back.

“let’s see… you want me to tie you up?” your heartbeat remains steady. “no. you want to have a threesome?” steady. “no. you want me to walk you around on a leash?” still nothing. “hmm…” you feel matt getting closer to the truth and your heartrate increases with anxiety. “you want me to be mean to you?”

your heart skips.

“that’s it,” matt says with a satisfied grin.

you whine as you hide your face in your hands. “please stop.”

“was that so hard, baby? i can be mean to you if you want,” he laughs. “i didn’t think you’d be into something like that. i guess i should’ve known,” he says as he pulls you closer to him by your ankle. “i’ve got myself a kinky little girl, don’t i?”

he takes ahold of your wrists and moves your hands away from your face, removing the only protection you had from facing your embarrassment. he makes you look at him and when he does, he can feel your pulse quicken even more.

“i can do this for you, you just have to tell me what you want me to say,” he says.

“i don’t know,” you shrug.

“don’t lie to me,” he says. “tell me.”

“like…” you trail off.

“like?” he mocks.

you rip the bandaid off. “whore and slut and dumb and pathetic,” you blurt out. “just be mean.” you said it so quickly that the embarrassment of your words doesn’t hit you until they’re all out. that’s when you realize that matt is doing this on purpose. “you asshole,” you huff.

“don’t be mad, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “i’m just doing what you want, right? making you all flustered and embarrassed is mean, isn’t it?”

you cross your arms and attempt to turn away from him, but matt anticipates it and stops you by pinning your arms at your sides. he moves to hover over your body and places his knee between your spread thighs.

“and you like it, don’t you?” he asks, this time more serious. when you don’t answer, he says, “tell me.”

“yes, i like it,” you whimper as he tightens his grip on your wrists.

“yeah, you do,” he smirks. “now tell me, do you want me to bring you to bed, or do you want me to fuck you on the couch like a slut?”

you don’t have to say a word. your rapidly beating heart tells matt everything he needs to know.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Pretty sure this wasn’t answered in your faq.

I’m very impressed with your knowledge and am vaguely aware you’re a professional in sex/body matters and thus may have access to things people don’t normally have access to/have some of this information memorized.

My question is: do you have any resources you can share to learn more about bodies and safe sex practices?

I tried looking on your blog but couldn’t find anything after a couple minutes of searching

Thank you very much and I hope you have a lovely day!

hi anon,

I'm not a professional in the sense that I do not carry any kind of license or degree. what I have is years of experience doing research to answer questions, leading workshops and presentations, and volunteering my time to do human development classes with 4th-6th graders. there's nothing I have access to that you can't get too as long as you have an internet connection and perhaps a library card.

some of the sources I draw from most frequently (and link to most often) are the websites such as Planned Parenthood, the Mayo Clinic, the Cleveland Clinic, and the Center for Disease Control. Scarleteen is also an invaluable resource, which has a website and is right here on tumblr dot com at @hellyeahscarleteen. one of my earliest inspirations was the youtube sexologist Lindsey Doe, who's still active and has a vast backlog of videos. I have a list of books that I've found interesting and influential here.

information is everywhere.