#and as if everyone has a sense of what they want to do or something they are doing and i’m the only one behind
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.
“I’m thinking.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”
“You’re truly humble.”
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”
“I’m not traumatised.”
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”
“What did he say to you?”
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”
“Did he call you that?”
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”
“You’re flirting with me.”
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Hey! So, I just need some help understanding something... I heard that people think that Zuko took Katara straight to Ember Island after TSR. I missed it on my rewatch, and I don't get where this interpretation comes from, and whether it is just a headcanon. Do you happen, by chance, to know more about that? I LOVE this tidbit by the way; I just don't know where it's coming from. Sorry if this is random.
Oh I’ve heard that before! From what I’ve seen, it’s based primarily on the visuals we see of the settings. Before leaving to find Yon Rha, everyone is camped out on this island:
It appears to be a small, uninhabited island (which makes sense if they’re in hiding) so clearly not Ember Island.
Then at the end, the final scene begins with Katara here:
This is definitely Zuko’s family home on Ember Island, with Katara sitting alone on the pier. In the second screenshot you can see Appa flying in.
Now here is the interesting part:
Zuko and Aang get off of Appa, and if you squint, it kind of looks like the others are in the saddle too. Based on the conversation that follows, it’s clear that this is the first time Aang has seen Katara since she left to confront Yon Rha.
So the implication here is that Zuko and Katara first went to Ember Island alone, then Zuko flew with Appa by himself to pick up everyone else from the other island. This actually makes a lot of sense logistically, because without Appa, everyone else had no way of getting to Ember Island from wherever they were before.
I really like this theory (and I think based on the evidence it’s pretty much canon) because it shows there are a lot of missing scenes between Zuko and Katara. It makes sense. He was the only one there to comfort her after something so traumatic. I love the idea that he thought to bring her to a place that was special to him, hoping to find her comfort. Then I’m guessing she wanted some alone time and he left her to go get the others.
I think it’s very sweet, to think about that time they spent together and what they talked about ❤️
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Teenage Angst (Dad!CL16)
Summary: Charles Leclerc’s 16 year old daughter, Lila, has had quite the rebellious phase and the Monegasque just can’t figure out what to do. Luckily, his wife has some of the answers.
Charles loved his life. He loved his job. He loved his home. Most of all, he loved his family. But recently, his job seemed to interfere with his homelife and in turn impacted his relationship with his family.
His family was well versed in the ways of having a husband and father as an Formula 1 driver. They were used to race weekends in exciting new countries, or race weekends spent on the couch as they cheered Charles on. Recently though, as his eldest daughter began to experience the highs and lows of teenage life, she began to resent her father for all the time he spent out of the house.
Her dad was her most favorite person in the world but she hadn’t ever really cared for Formula 1. She liked watching her dad race and seeing all of the ‘honorary uncles’ she had gained over the years but without them she knew she would never have been a fan of the sport. So, when she began to associate it with taking her father away, she couldn’t stand to watch it anymore.
It had become a source of tension between her and her mom. Charles’ wife had tried her entire life to not force the kids into the world of Formula 1. If they didn’t want to kart, they did not have to. They didn’t need to try and follow in the impressive but expectant legacy their father was bound to leave behind. But they were expected to support their Dad. When Lila refused to watch the race with the family, fights would often break out. Her mom always kept her composure, not one to scream, but when she had a 16 year old trying to yell every hateful thing she could think of at her, it made it hard.
After a particularly nasty fight, one where Lila was sent to her room and grounded, the tension in the Leclerc house was palpable. Even though his wife hadn’t told him about it, Charles could sense the shift the moment he walked in the door. He hadn’t been given a chance to inquire about it though because the moment he stepped foot in the entryway, he had been tackled by his youngest daughter, only 6 years old. His wife then too joined the mix, happy to have her husband back (and ecstatic to have another parent in the household to deal with her 16 year old).
“Where is Lila?” Charles asked.
“Ah, she is a bit grumpy at the moment. I am letting her cool down before dinner, which is just about ready. Please quickly shower and get all the plane germs off before you sit to eat with us.” His wife demanded.
As Charles walked up to his room, he passed his eldest daughter’s bedroom and was about to walk in till he noticed she had locked the door, something that she seemed to be doing a lot more recently. Deciding maybe it is best she cools down a little, he walked right by.
Everyone, except Lila, was sat and waiting for the 16 year old to join at the table when after 5 minutes they decided to just start eating. When she finally walked down, she said a quick “hi” to her father, not even looking in his direction, before she started eating.
“Lila, why don’t you thank your mother for her cooking before you eat all the food she made?” Charles asked. Immediately, his wife tensed up, knowing that this would set her oldest daughter off.
“Why? She made pasta. It isn't exactly revolutionary or even hard.”
“She works hard to keep you both alive and happy each day. And the fact she put a lot of love into making sure you are fed well is something to be grateful for.” He was starting to raise his voice, which only caused Lila to turn her attitude up even more.
“She is just a stupid housewife living off the money you make, if it is so hard she can just hire help.”
There was silence after this. Lila watched as her mother silently got up, tears streaming down her face, and walked into the kitchen, not wanting to cause a scene or have another fight with her daughter. Lila immediately regretted the things she said, once again just looking for the most hurtful things to say.
“Are you kidding me? I cannot believe that those disgusting things just came out of my very own daughter’s mouth! Why would you ever say such a thing about such a wonderful and loving mother? When the hell did this attitude develop?”
“Maybe you would know if you weren’t gone all the time racing stupid fucking cars. God, Dad, you have no right to try and parent me when you aren’t even here. Go back to Ferrari, they are the only family that wants you!” She was screaming now. Nothing she said was true, of course, she knew it, but she couldn’t stop till she made everyone feel as miserable as she did.
“Enough! I am so disappointed and appalled by the things you are saying. Go to your room because I sure do not want to see you tonight!” At this, Lila stormed off, stomping up the stairs till she slammed the door. Charles could almost laugh at how cliche the whole situation was. Hormonal teenager upsetting her parents then storming off. But he couldn’t think about that now that he had his beautiful and sweet wife crying to herself in the kitchen, and his 6 year old daughter tearing up at all the fighting. “I am sorry, sweetie. Why don’t you go and put a television show on and I can get the special candy I got for you while I was away?” This seemed to do the trick as his youngest daughter immediately perked up and ran to the living room.
Walking into the kitchen, Charles was met with his wife silently washing the dishes, but he could see how her body shook as she cried. She immediately melted into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“Charles, she has been like this for weeks now. It always is always worse when you are gone. I- I don’t know what to do. I feel like the world’s worst mother, always fighting and grounding her.”
“My love, it is in no way your fault. How she acted was out of line and I am so disgusted by it. None of what she said was true and I hope you know that.” He said, kissing his wife’s forehead.
“I know, I know. She is just trying to get us upset. I just don’t know how much more I can handle.”
“I am the worst husband for not being here. I am sorry, my love. If I knew it was this bad then I would have-”
“You would have what, Charles? You have a job that takes a lot of time. You will sometimes be out of the loop. And that is okay. You work hard to provide for us, so we can live such a nice and comfortable life. I heard what she said to you too. It wasn’t fair of her to get mad at your career. I think she is just upset that you are gone so often.”
“What do I do about that though? Retire? Because if it comes down to it-”
“No, no, no. You will retire when you are ready to, and that is surely not now. She is just hormonal and extremely emotional. Let me talk to her, I am sure she just misses her dad. You are her most favorite person, you know that right?” he nodded in response, “I would almost be jealous if we didn’t have a 6 year old who told me earlier today that I am the coolest person in the world, and that I was pretty enough to be a princess.” She joked.
“She takes after me, idolizes you in every way.”
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Smooth Talker. Let me go talk to Lila.” With a chaste kiss to the lips, she walked away in hope of reconciling this whole fight.
Luckily, Lila’s door was unlocked. But she was blasting music so hard that she didn’t hear her mother come in until she screamed when she felt someone touch her back.
“Relaxe, honey, it's just me.” Her mother said, turning down the music.
It was silent as she awaited her daughter’s response. Both women at a standoff, seeing who would crack first. Luckily for them it didn’t last too long as it was Lila who lost. She burst into tears, quickly muttering apology after apology at her mother.
“Sweetheart, it is okay. I was hurt by what you said but I was a teenager once too. I said some pretty mean things to my mom. I understand that it sometimes comes with the territory.”
“Did you say mean things to your dad too?” Lila asked, hiccuping from the sobs.
“No, but I didn’t have as nice of a father as you do. I was more scared of him. You on the other hand have the most wonderful father, and you said some nasty things to him tonight.”
“He already is disappointed I didn’t take after him and start racing. He probably regrets having a girl.” Lila sobbed, breaking her mother’s heart. Those things couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Honey, you know how excited your father was when I told him I was pregnant with you? It was far too early to know if you were a boy or a girl, but Charles was convinced he would have a daughter first. There was never a single moment that he wasn’t absolutely thrilled to be a girl dad. It didn’t matter if you were ever a boy or a girl though, he never for a single moment cared if his kids would follow in his footsteps. He has lost too many loved ones to this sport, he was honestly a little relieved when you said you didn’t want to go karting. But he always hoped you would support him. He just wants you guys to be proud of him.”
Lila once again burst into tears at this revelation, thinking herself a terrible daughter for not being supportive. “He must hate me now. I- I have been so terrible to him.”
“You could never do anything to make him hate you. I think he is just upset about the things you said but he knows you don’t mean them. Go talk to him, honey. It will clear everything up I promise.” Lila’s mom said as she rubbed her daughter’s back.
After a long hug, the 16 year old Leclerc went to the living room where she saw her father watching a kids tv show with her younger sister who was happily demolishing a bag of candy. Once Charles noticed his daughter’s arrival, and that Lila clearly wanted to say something to him but was hesitant, he sent the 6 year old off to go find her Maman. As he looked back at Lila, her tear stained face and puffy eyes broke his heart, even if he was still upset at her.
Before he could say anything, she rushed into his arms, sobbing out an “I’m sorry Papa! I didn’t mean what I said, I promise. I love you and love watching you race, I just miss you so much!”
Giving her a few seconds to collect herself, he kissed her forehead, tears threatening to fall as he replied. “Lila, I know you didn’t mean those things. It breaks my heart to be gone as much as I am. I love you so much, honey. I am sorry for yelling.”
Pulling away, she smiled at the revelation that she wasn’t in trouble with her dad. “I apologized to Maman too. She told me to talk to you. I am sorry I have been so mean to her while you have been gone.”
“I know. She is always good at getting us back in line, huh? You are still grounded for what you said though.” She laughed at that. Maybe it was a little too naive to think she would be in the clear now and punishment free. “Maybe though, you can come to the next race? Just me and you? I can try to convince your Mama to let you miss a few days of school.”
“Yes! I would love that. But only if I can visit Uncle Pierre at Alpine.” She demanded, giggling with excitement.
“If you step foot in any garage that isn’t Ferrari, you will be grounded for two more weeks” Charles joked�� kind of. Maybe he would only ground her one week for that.
This was far from the last fight they had, but they eventually got out of this hormonal funk Lila had all been in. They had to look ahead though because they still had another daughter to deal with once she became a teenager.
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Pampering and Dates
Poly!Vees x GN!Reader
TW: Valentino, GETS A LITTLE NSFW SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
A/n: Once again all credit to @aboyscriminalrecord for the amazing idea! I DO NOT CONDONE VALENTINO OR HIS ACTIONS
Being pampered by these three? Is literal heaven, most people see you as their sugar baby..and while they aren’t wrong in some sense they are still wrong.
As you said before, Vox loves buying you chokers (and collars, shh) that specifically have his name on it! Or maybe a new jacket that has little accessories that scream his name so people know that you’re taken. Wear nothing but the jacket and maybe the choker and he’s keeping you in the bedroom for hours.
Valentino loves to buy you different lingerie and jewelry, sometimes collars too. He’s a weird kinky bastard. Expect everything from earrings, rings, necklaces, bracelets to straight up barely covering anything lingerie. Yeah…anyways. Everything is in your favorite color or his, he also gets you a gold necklace with his name on it.
Velvette will get you any type of clothes that you want, but she’ll either be making them or they’ll be very high end and you’d be scared to wear it or even touch it. Also if you wear makeup expect her to buy you high quality and pricey makeup. From makeup palettes, blush, to lipstick. Also will buy you very expensive jewelry but she makes sure it matches any and all outfits. Another one to give you something that has her signature look or scent on her. She wants people to know who you belong to and won’t hesitate to pull you into a kiss in front of her fans.
Dates Wise?
Vox is pulling all the strings to get this high end restaurant all booked out- doesn’t matter if he has to buy it out for the night or kill everyone there. He’s getting this restaurant for you. He’ll even buy it out from the owner and make it your own personal restaurant if you give him the word!
Valentino is making sure everything is set up perfectly from the tablecloth to the dinnerware to even the food. He may have shit sight but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have shit taste. If one thing is wrong he’s killing the chefs and rehiring more. It has to be perfect and anything less than that is an insult to you. Also he knows what wine/alcohol pairs well with whatever dish you're having that night. Trust him, Cariño~
Velvette is totally making sure your outfit is perfect, will she tell you what it’s for? No. She just needs you up on the platform so she can work her magic. You just need to sit there and look pretty like you always do. Also does your makeup too, she has makeup artists yes but she needs to do it for you. Can’t let any sinner fuck up your clothes and then fuck up your makeup! Just let her kiss you every so often to test the lipstick..no she’s not getting sidetracked and yes you have plenty of time before the date!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#poly vees x reader#poly vees#the vees x y/n#hazbin hotel vees#the vees#valentino#valentino x reader#valentino x you#valentino hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin velvette#velvette x reader#velvette x you#velvette x y/n#vox x you#vox x reader#vox the tv demon#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#vox x y/n
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Not Now - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: 4 times Caitlin riles you up (requested)
Warnings: Mature
Work Count: 3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: As requested, here is the opposite of Now's Not the Time. I hope you enjoy it!
one. put it away.
It is the beginning of Hawkeye basketball season and your team is looking pretty tight. Practices have been strong and everyone was working really hard to be the best. With that, everyone has been super concentrated on developing their skills and if there is anything that you know about a concentrated Caitlin it can be the cutest and cruelest thing to you.
It started out cute - seeing her tongue peek out when she was really into a game or when she was going for a shot that took a little more planning. You found it adorable and would often tease her about it at the beginning of your relationship. Fast forward a little and she showed you exactly what that tongue could do causing what was once innocent to be something that had you itching for her in the middle of a packed stadium.
It is another home game and it is going to be a challenging one. You are in the locker room with the team, everyone is getting ready and getting in the zone. You take special notice of your girlfriend who has been chewing the same piece of gum since the two of you left your apartment. Her tongue playing with that piece of gum like she was playing with you last night.
You are sitting there during your team meeting before going out for warm-ups mesmerized by the way your girl is smacking her gum. You feel ridiculous but as you are sitting there, trying to pay attention to your coaches, your knee bouncing a mile a minute to distract your body and mind. She has no idea what she is doing to you.
Once the meeting is dismissed, you all line up to head out for warm-ups. You are standing next to Caitlin and Kate.
"You should spit out your gum before we head on the floor," you say, trying not to draw any attention to the face that your skin is buzzing being so close to hers. Not touching, but close enough to feel her presence.
"Why? It's not hurting anybody," she says with a little laugh, completely unaware of the way it is making you crave her.
"Your girls right," says Kate. "Don't want you choking on it before the game begins."
You silently thank Kate as you see Caitlin spit out her gum. Her tongue runs over her lips and you bite our bottom lip, concealing a moan that so desperately wants to escape your lips.
The team runs out and you all get to warm up. Everyone knows exactly where to go and what to do. As you are shooting threes, you notice Caitlin's tongue makes its first appearance. Your center aches at the sight and you make your way to her.
You grab her arm and turn her so no one can see what you are saying.
"I am going to need you to keep that pretty little tongue of yours away, it is driving me insane," you say. She knows as well as everyone that we all need to be present in the game and by now knowing this newfound distraction of yours she makes a decision.
She doesn't say a word, rather steps back and looks at you, then down to your lips and runs her tongue over her bottom lip.
You instantly squeeze your thighs together to get any sort of friction. To anyone on the outside, it looks like the two of you are just having a conversation. But Caitlin sees your little move and brings you close enough for only you to hear.
"Keep squeezing those thighs together babe, because I am going to have them spread wide open for me tonight," she whispers in your ear then grabs a ball to shoot a three.
Your head is spinning and you forget where you are, your senses are heightened only for her. You cannot believe she just said that to you.
You are brought back to reality when you hear a whistle blow, signaling the game is going to start.
This is about to be one of the longest games of your life.
two. drawings.
It's team dinner night. it is typical for the team to go out to dinner the night before any away game and you always looked forward to getting some time out.
The team was in Connecticut for a game against UConn. Hannah and Jada were the ones to pick the place for your night out. These dinners typically consisted of getting good food because the night before games were always dry.
That is how you all found yourself in this mom-and-pop Italian restaurant. You sit next to Caitlin at the end of the table with Kate across from you. Everyone is looking at their menus when it all starts.
Your menu is on the table in front of you, and you are intensely scanning through the extensive menu. Your girlfriend's hand makes its way to your thigh. You don't think much of it as it is usually just a way for her to ground herself when she feels a little anxious. But little to her knowledge, the way she is looking in her dress has you ready to take her back to the hotel room.
You give her hand a little tap, to acknowledge her and continue looking at the menu. Her hand never leaves your thigh as you all order and start up a conversation about random things. As much as you want to jump into the conversation, you struggle to hear what anyone is saying due to your girlfriend beginning to draw patterns on your thigh.
You take a deep breath and bring your hand down to hers. You take hold of it, not removing it from its place on your leg, but to keep her fingers from dancing over your skin. She looks over at you with a slight frown but you just give her a small smile. You aren't ready to reveal how much her touch is affecting you.
The food comes out and your hand releases hers. You were fully expecting her hand to remove itself from your body but it stays put as she eats with her other hand. Only removing her hand to use her napkin to wipe her face. The second she puts her napkin down, her hand finds its rightful place on your thigh.
When you finish your food, your stomach is satisfied and you lean back in your chair. You are finally relaxed enough to engage in conversation and almost forget Caitlin's hand. That is until it begins to change up its patterns.
You are talking to Kate when your mind goes blank. Caitlin's fingers have made their way to the hem of your dress (you debated if the dress was too short when getting dressed but Cait said it was fine and that you looked good). You are now regretting the choice of outfit as the hem of your dress is quite high and with one slip of the wrist, her fingers would be where you have been waiting for them all dinner.
Your hand goes down to grab hers but she stops you with her other hand. You try to look at her - she doesn't turn to face you, but rather continues her conversation with the girls.
Her fingers are still playing with the hem of your dress, alongside now the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath, doing everything in your power to listen to the conversation.
A pool begins to form at your core as Caitlin's light touch keeps gracing itself on your sensitive skin. She went between gripping your thigh to only letting the pads of her fingertips graze your skin. It is maddening.
You keep trying to give her looks to show her that she needs to cool it but she seems to be actively avoiding your eyes. So you do the only thing you can think of (aside from removing her hand which you know she will fight and you will lose) is to cross your legs. You begin to shift and are about to bring your leg over, closing your thighs to her torture when she whips her head around to you and says one word.
"No."
You give a little pout and try again. This time, she pushes her hand further up your inner thigh, high enough to feel you are dripping from her touch and have been for a while now. You are slightly embarrassed and she is quite surprised.
Not surprised as you are when her finger grazes under your thong, swiping you only once. Then bringing it out from under your dress to meet her lips, tasting you in front of the whole team.
You look around in horror, only to find no one is paying attention to you.
You use this time to cross your legs. Keeping Cait out and releasing some of the tension. Your pupils are slightly blown out and your heartbeat has quickened.
Caitlin leans over to your ear and says, "I can't wait for dessert."
three. messages.
You are the proud recipient of the John R Wooden Award. This year you were nominated alongside your girlfriend Caitlin and were chosen. That is what brings you, your family and your girlfriend to Los Angeles, CA.
You are all dressed up, and ready for the events of the day. The schedule included: the award ceremony, interview panel, and gala. You are all in for a busy day.
After putting on your watch, regardless of the event, you always wear your Apple watch. You are struggling with your necklace when you feel some hands come to your shoulders. Looking up, you see your girlfriend taking the ends of the necklace and latching it around your neck. She turns you around to face her and makes sure it is center before looking at you with a smile.
"You are beautiful babe," she says, giving your hand a squeeze.
"Thank you, love," you say and give her a hug. You both stand there for a moment, taking in each other's embrace.
"I am so nervous," you say. "I hate speaking in front of people."
"You are going to do great. If you need some comfort just look over at me and you will be just fine," she says with a smile. You thank her and everyone gets on their way.
Once at the center where you are accepting the award, the team there guides you through where you need to be. You are there with the male recipient as well which makes this all a little better, knowing you aren't doing any of this alone.
The two of you accept the award and head into the interview panel. You are sitting in front of a large group of people and reporters ready to ask you all the questions under the sun. Your eyes scan the crowd for your person. It takes you a second but you find her. She is sitting next to your parents and coach. You offer her a little wave which she happily returns.
The interview begins and questions come flying at you left and right. You are stiff and have a hard time finding your footing on how to answer them. Not that you aren't capable, you are incredibly smart, but you are much better at playing a game in front of a stadium full of people than sitting in a room full of them and answering questions.
Caitlin takes notice of your stiffness and wishes she could do something to help you relax a little...
As you are sitting up on stage, your foot taps uncontrollably. Your hand is in your lap, bouncing as much as your leg. That is when you feel a buzz on your wrist.
You look down and see a message come in.
[Babe 🤍: Look at me]
You look up at your girl and she motions you to breathe. As she does, she unintentionally licks her lips which causes you to do the same.
[Babe 🤍: Stop the leg tapping]
[Babe 🤍: Imagine my hand on your knee to slow it down]
An innocent statement, meant to help your nerves, takes your mind to someplace much less clean. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as the guy is answering some questions now.
Caitlin takes notice of this and decides to egg you on a little more.
[Babe 🤍: Imagine what my hands could do to you under that table, in front of everyone]
[Babe 🤍: Going to all the places you want them now, making you feel better by the second]
You squeeze your legs together as your cheeks begin to heat up. You are suddenly very warm and feel like you need fresh air. Someone then asks you a question and you answer it without any hesitation. Your mind focuses on the question as your body is on fire.
[Babe 🤍: Good girl]
[Babe 🤍: You'll be rewarded for that tonight]
[Babe 🤍: The question is, do you want it in the form of my fingers or my tongue...]
When you read the last of the three messages, you lick your lips and look up feeling lightheaded. You have no idea how you are going to get through a whole gala before going back to your hotel room. Maybe you won't have to wait and the two of you will find a supply closet or something.
[Babe 🤍: I will take that as you want my tongue]
[Babe 🤍: Well lucky for you I am dying for a feast]
You gulp as your cheeks continue to redden. You take a sip of your water, hoping to cool yourself down.
[Babe 🤍: Good idea on the water, you are going to need to be hydrated for all I am going to do to you tonight]
Looking up at Cait, you see her smirking at you. She then gives you a little wink you just shake your head.
You cannot believe that just happened.
four. denial.
You and Caitlin were overdue for a date night. Between practices, games, and school - life has been pretty crazy and all you want is to have a night in with your girl.
As much as the two of you enjoy going out, you both opted for a night in. You decide on a movie night, ordering takeout and having a truly lazy evening, just the two of you. Whenever you two do a movie night, you always watch two. One is your pick of movie and the other is her pick of movie. They don't need to be anything alike, but it has helped avoid any fights over who gets to choose.
The food arrives and you two take up your post on the couch. You eat and talk and laugh and really just enjoy each other's presence.
You cuddle up into her as you decide to put on the first movie - it was your choice, The Hating Game.
You are situated between her legs, your back to her front as her arms are draped around your middle, fingers mindlessly playing with the strings of your sweatpants.
As you are watching the movie, you are hyperaware of what her hands and body are doing. Her head is leaning on yours, adjusting every now and then to breathe in your scent and tease your neck with her breath.
Her hands toy with the waistband of your pants and you can't help but get excited. It has been a minute since the two of you have been intimate. Not from a lack of desire but just a lack of time. So being here now, knowing you two have the whole night - you are ready. Beyond ready, really.
Your hands graze her forearms as she reaches one of her hands into your sweatpants. Her fingers lazily play around you as you grow impatient.
"Cait - please," you say and your head leans back into her shoulder and you bit your lip.
"Please what?" She asks as she ever so gently swipes your most sensitive spot.
"Please touch me," you practically beg, wanting to feel more of her touch. She obliges as her fingers begin a work on you.
You begin to pant and moan feeling her fingers go deeper inside of you. She is still taking her time, giving you what you want but going nice and slow - enjoying every second of her girl coming undone in front of her. She loves making a mess of you.
You moan her name as you begin to feel your climax build up inside of you. Her free hand comes up to your breast as it begins to massage it, giving you a little more pleasure. You lean your head up more and use one of your hands to turn her head to bring her lips to yours.
Her lips meet yours and you moan into her mouth. You missed this so much.
Her fingers begin to pick up the pace as she feels you getting close. Not only that but you get quite vocal when you near your climax and Caitlin absolutely thrives off it. It sets a fire in her and she never wants your moans to end.
"Babe, don't stop. I am so close," you moan as your eyes squeeze shut. Her fingers doing a work on you and her lips make their way to your neck, leaving little love bites up and down it - overloading your senses.
Right as you are about to finish, you are met with emptiness. Climax fading before it even arrives. Your whole body jolts and the nastiest whimper cries from your lips.
"Caitlin Clark, what the..." you are about to yell as she places two of the fingers she just removed from you and pushes them gently but firmly in your mouth. You moan into her fingers.
She then begins to sit up, taking you with her. You move to a sitting position on the couch as she gets up and grabs your hand, placing kisses all over the backside of it.
"I plan on taking my time with you little one," she says as she pulls you up from the couch.
"And I am just getting started," she says as she lifts you over her shoulder and takes you to your shared bed.
AN: Well here it is! I hope this did the request justice. Thanks for reading lovelies! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
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Bourbon and Mead
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU
Content: Alcohol consumption, flirting, slow-burn tension, slow dancing with Joel, teasing, POV switch. Bear with me, folks, this'll be worth it.
Summary: It's been a busy first week in Jackson, but you're finally starting to feel at home. Even still, you haven't made many new connections, but hopefully tonight's big event can help. Despite your nerves, you go anyway, and see some familiar faces.
Word Count: 4,300+
It had been just under a week since your patrol with Joel and his group, and you're settling in rather well. For such a shabby spot, you have decorated your living space impressively, and it settles something in you. After so long, you're really starting to have a place to call home.
Knock, knock, knock.
The noise shakes you out of a stupor, and you make your way to the heavy wooden door, and tug it open to reveal a friendly face, Maria.
You've had little chance to interact with new people since arriving in Jackson - when you're working as a community this directly, a hell of a lot of work goes into it. Which means, everyone's busy. Just about constantly. That being said, outside of your own room, Maria has been your only companion.
She can sense your loneliness, too, but she hasn't let on. The last thing you needed was the pressure of making a name of yourself in the first few days, so she had kept you busy with chores, patrols, hunts, you name it. To her, that plan would help you adjust to how Jackson functioned as a whole, so you could have the foundation of being a community member, to get your bearings.
Her smile is bright as she speaks, "Hey, sweetheart, just wanted to let y'know about the dance happening tonight. If you're feeling up for it, you should stop by."
The offer erupts a warmth in your chest.
"The dance?" You ask eagerly.
Maria nods, "Used to call it a square dance, but not enough folks know how to, so it's more of a get-together now, but we'll have music, drinks, the whole nine."
It doesn't take long for you to choose your answer. You cheerfully tell Maria, "That sounds wonderful. Where is it, and when does it start?"
She starts to describe the layout of the nearby buildings to the dance, waving her hands in front of her methodically, "But trust me, you won't be able to miss it. Just follow the music." Maria ends her sentence with a wink.
"What do I wear?"
There's a beat as she looks you over, and past your shoulder to your chest of drawers, which she helped stock when you first arrived.
Maria waves a hand dismissively as she replies, "Some people take the chance to dress up, some people dress down. You do whatever you're comfortable with, honey."
You flash her a grateful smile, and she issues a small goodbye before walking off.
---
A good few hours buffers you before the dance. The optional dance, but something in you will stop at nothing to go. You need to see people, have some laughs, live a little.
You take your sweet time getting ready, too. Some downtime is well deserved and rare, but it gives you the perfect window of time - debating on your outfit takes the longest. You opt for a casual hairdo, one that won't get your neck all hot and sweaty once you start dancing. The watch on your left wrist reads 6:47 PM up at you.
Whooping voices can be heard outside your window as people saunter down the street, toward the festivities, you assume. You sneak a peek through the curtains, eyeing a gaggle of townsfolk laughing alongside one another. Their eyes are bright, voices uplifted and loud. The men clap each other on the shoulder aggressively, while the women jab each other in the sides with their elbows. There wasn't much to make out, but whatever they were joking about had them roaring with laughter.
Seeing the crowd inspires you to make way out the door. You ensure all your lights are off, save for your nightstand lamp to come back to an inviting space. A deep breath later, and you were out the door, too.
There's a new feeling in the air, and you can place it precisely. Upbeat music plays far down the small Jackson streets, but its effects are widespread. All around, the other residents beam brightly as they go about the evening. Most people nearest you exchange small 'hello's' and wave politely, others still smile your way. Tightness wells in your chest as you realize just how long it had been since you'd seen so many friendly faces.
The music's volume eventually blares as you near the open area for the dance. The weather proves to be fair enough to host the event outside, so rows of string lights hang between nearby poles and sides of buildings. In the back of the venue is a group of people wielding a variety of instruments, nodding and bouncing with the quick beat of what you knew as bluegrass music.
"Hey, look who's here!" A voice calls out. You glance around until you realize the call was for your attention. You turn to the voice and recognize the woman from last week's patrol, who'd given you the rundown of who your partners were.
You greet her in return before registering the rest of the group. A few of them could be familiar around town, but for the most part, new faces.
Except for one.
Joel's eyes aren't on yours when you find him in the group. He's looking to one of the men, seemingly in a deep conversation. Perhaps he could feel your eyes on him, because his eyes flicker to yours for a split second. He pauses, lets his conversation partner speak, while he gives you a polite nod, before turning back to the man.
The fluttering in your gut was a dead giveaway, this is why you wanted to come. The prospect of seeing Joel again was exciting, but usually slim. And here he was. If only he could just move on from his conversation...
A hand lands on your arm comfortingly. The kind woman tells you, "It's so good to see you again! How have you been settling in?"
There's a twinge of an accent in her words, Southern, but more subtle. Her words are as soft as a hug.
"It's been going alright, finally getting to decorating," you start. The woman listens. Wait... did she ever introduce herself? Shit. How were you supposed to see someone this much without knowing their name?
"That was the best part when I got here. Once I had my space set up, it really felt like home," she replies.
There's a beat of silence between you, and it breaks when you ask, "I'm sorry if this is awkward, but I never got your name the first time we met." You briefly introduce yourself before she replies.
Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, "I'm Cara. I never introduced myself, but I wanted you to have at least be one friendly face here."
"I'm thankful for it, I really am. It feels better now that we have names to the faces," you offer with a nervous smile.
Cara looks at you mischievously, softly grabbing your bicep, "Let's get a drink. Whaddya say?"
That kind offer melts your anxiety away, and all that's left is you, Cara, and the joy of sharing a drink with a friend. In moments, you have a glass of homemade mead in your hand.
Someone else from the group calls Cara over, so for a moment you're left alone with your cup of fermented honey goodness. It's sweet, slightly bitter, but leaves your stomach feeling warm as it settles. The burn in your throat is numbed by the warmth in your belly. You make it back to Cara's group and decided to strike up conversation with those folks, thinking that it'd be a good place to start.
The first few conversations are long - a flurry of questions about your background, your journey out to Jackson, and how you've been adjusting to the move. You learn some basics about some of them, but there's a distraction lingering in the back of your mind.
Joel.
A few people in the group break away to leave for the dance floor, the jovial music beckoning them ever closer. You don't follow immediately, which leaves you with a few stragglers, and him.
For the first time in days, you hear his voice again, "What'd you get?"
The question snaps you to attention, looking down into your glass. You glance back up at him and motion with the cup with a swish, "Some mead, I think. Pretty good."
He nods, "Pete makes some damn good mead, 'specially if it's for a party. Pulls out the good stuff."
Part of you wonders if his lighthearted talking is to make up for the blunder on last week's patrol, to ease the embarrassment you still held from it.
"What's in your cup?" You retort.
"Usually it's bourbon, but tonight, it's beer," he replies with a gaze into his own cup. He copies your motion and swirls the cup a few times. A bit of the foamy liquid sloshes out and onto the dirt in front of your, nicer, combat boots. Some of the beer spatters onto your feet and into the dirt.
"Damn, maybe they should cut me off," Joel jokes, reaching into his back pocket and revealing a handkerchief, holding it out to you. "Sorry 'bout that."
You take the cloth, "Making a mess of the place already, and it's not even eight o'clock yet, impressive."
The joke seems to land with Joel; you can tell by the way the corners of his eyes tighten.
Joel
What you say makes him chuckle. It's rare to find someone with a sense of humor these days. That kind of fresh attitude can bring a lot of life in a world like this, especially around here, especially after the loss these people have felt.
New folks were few and far between, given how desolate Jackson had become since the world fell to shit, but there was a wind of change when you arrived last week. Joel could tell from the second he saw you on patrol, even trotting ahead of the group at one point. The light in your eyes when you awed at the mountains tugged at his heartstrings. A type of longing for that kind of simple joy. To be young, without most of his hardships, seeing new parts of the world, even though it had shrunk.
On the patrol, you had gotten too far ahead, in line with Joel in the lead, and you knew it wasn't your place, but you hadn't shied away from him. In fact, you had embraced it, and listened keenly when Joel advised you keep your distance. Normally it'd feel like taming an unruly child, but you had a certain curiosity in your eyes, you were eager to learn.
Joel knows how harsh he can be, let alone to new faces. The worry of how that attitude rubs off on people subsided decades ago - one could say that Joel has truly embraced that 'grouchy old man' stereotype. That attitude has saved his ass more times than he could count, and has kept him safe after all these years. But, there's an unavoidable weight when it comes to hardening yourself up as much as Joel has. It's a truth that he's been evading for years. You make yourself untouchable, but you forget how much you need someone else.
Even so, it's easier that way. You keep losses to a minimum as long as you're not attached. Living that way had gotten him this far.
But now you stand in front of him, with beer-splattered boots and a kind smile despite your new shoes being soiled. You take his handkerchief and bend down to clean your shoes, and hand the cloth back to Joel. His fingers brush against yours when he takes it back - yours are delicately soft against his calloused ones, and it takes him by surprise.
In that split second, Joel's eyes search your face for any change, to see if you freeze like he does, to see if your breath hitches like his did, for any sign that this isn't just some fluke.
It could be a trick of the light, but Joel swears there's a new redness in your cheeks. When you look at him next, it's with bright, innocent eyes, a type of innocence Joel would surely ruin.
"Thank you, Joel," you say softly. His name on your lips is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, it's almost sickening.
Joel clears his throat and gives you a nod, "It's the least I can do."
The sun is dipping behind the mountains, streaking the sky with glorious pink hues against the emerging stars of dusk. A fiddle lilts happily as the song picks up pace, the tune itself serving as an invitation to get yourself moving. In the distance, Cara flashes you a wide smile, and waves a beckoning hand over to her gaggle of folks. You can barely make out her words as she mouths them.
"Let's dance!"
Joel notices your distraction, looking back at Cara trying to whisk you onto the dance floor. There's a good number of people breaking into a flurry of moves, all whooping and laughing as they pass one another. Joel looks back to you, the softness that was there before is seeming to dissipate. His face is hardened again, resigned.
"Guess I'm being stolen away," you say.
"Be careful," Joel replies, "Carried Away Cara doesn't let up. You'll be dancing for hours."
You comment, "Didn't know I signed up for that kind of night."
You've reached the group by now, and Cara is already handing you another glass of mead, and a huge smile to go along with it.
----
You're onto drink number four, you think, and the sky has shifted from a pale pink to a deep indigo, littered with bright stars and a beautiful crescent moon. It seems like the music has blurred together without beginning or end, and your boozy haze doesn't reveal any tiredness, so you keep dancing. Joel was right, Cara's had you dancing for what feels like hours at this point. But damn, did she know how to party.
The song the group's playing begins to slow down, and part of the crowd disperses away. Chattering can be overheard amidst the quieting music. You place a mostly-empty glass onto a nearby picnic table and look around the venue. Folks pass you by with a pep in their step, their faces flushed red from alcohol and relentless dancing.
A breath of fresh air wafts through the venue, rustling through your hair that had tacked with sweat to the nape of your neck. You smile from the sensation, relishing in the cool air across your hot skin. Shit, what time is it?
Your watch beams 10:13 PM back up at you.
Damn, where did all that time go?
The night has given you a rush of adrenaline you haven't found in what feels like months. Something about this dance is erupting a sense of joy you were sure you'd never feel again. Laughter, dancing, good people. Such simple things really do lift the spirits.
You can feel a pointed stare at you off to the side, but do you dare look? Of course you do - it's not like the mead is letting you act composed. Being as subtle as you can muster in your state, you glance to the side, where that looming sense had come from. Far off, leaning against a tall wooden fence, is Joel.
While he had practically ignored you when you'd first seen him tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you in this moment. Your heart skips a beat when he holds the stare, his deep brown eyes never leave yours, even as other partygoers pass between you. It's as if the world had paused, but perhaps just for you, frozen under Joel's gaze, the sole subject of his attention.
He stands alone on the side. No one to interrupt you if you go over...
Before you decide, you wave and smile. A silly drunken grin you'd normally hide. Right now, with his focus only on you, is the most alive you've felt in months. The high of it creeps up from behind, whispering encouragement in the form of a dare. Go up to him.
Your legs make the journey before you register what's happening; your body suddenly has a mind of its own, no way to back down now.
The narrowing distance from Joel pushes your heart to your throat. While your legs carry you smoothly, your senses are turned upside down. The anxiety you have about Joel is nothing but a distant memory. Tonight, you'd overcome your nervousness.
"Not much of a dancer, hm?" You call to him over the music.
A small smile spreads across his lips, "With these knees, I'm lucky to do a damn foxtrot. Someone out there was having the time of their life, though."
He truly has a gift. The moment he speaks, everything else seems to disappear. God, you'd ask him question after question just to hear that voice - deep and gravelly, but the accent is thick and sweet like molasses. A slip of your imagination has you wandering into uncharted territory. Imagine a "baby" or "honey" or "sweetheart" in that voice... Your mind vacates long enough for Joel to arch an eyebrow at you, and you're immediately brought back down to earth.
"I don't know how I went dancing for that long," you exhale.
Joel shakes his head with a chuckle, "You'll get some damn good sleep, that's for sure."
It'd be better if you were sleeping with me.
The unfiltered thought jolts through you, snapping you back to attention. Maybe the mead was making you a little too confident.
Behind you both, the music group's slow beat has pulled folks into a smooth rhythm. The dance floor littered with small groups and couples as the song continued. This new intimate energy could not have been timed any worse. You took a big breath and let it out slowly.
"It's getting late, I should probably head home."
Joel pauses, looking toward the band, then down into a cup of amber-brown liquid. Maybe he resorted back to his usual bourbon.
You follow suit and watch the band play on. A tug in your chest begs you not to go, not yet.
"Think you got time for one last go?" His question snaps your head to him. There's a new spark in his eyes, a softer glint amidst the chocolate brown.
Your answer is immediate, breathless, "Of course."
Anything. Anything for him.
As long as it reveals a glimpse of the man underneath the tough shell. It's still in him.
Joel extends his hand, palm up, to take yours. You lay yours on top plainly, holding a breath at the sensation of your skin against his. It's not like before with the handkerchief. This time, it's intentional, he wants to touch you.
The way his fingers curl to hold your hand settled that debate. His touch is careful. It didn't take a genius to know how rough he could be, with those toned muscles shifting under his plaid shirt; in contrast, he held you with such delicacy, as if you'd break if he gripped too hard.
"You know how to dance at all?" Joel asks.
You bark a laugh, "With this many drinks in me? Highly doubt it."
Joel's laugh is louder this time around. You can actually make it out, and you can feel that it's genuine. "I warned you about Cara. Now I get a drunk dance partner."
"Hey, you asked me to dance. You don't get to give me shit for havin' a good time," your words slur together, proving Joel's point.
Amidst the crowd, Joel manages to find you two a nice spot with plenty of room. The surrounding couples look how you feel - entranced with their partners, focused and attentive, like the other person is the only one left in the world.
"How 'bout this? You lead me."
You freeze, "But, I-I don't know what to d-"
"Do what you want. I'll follow."
"And if I make a fool of myself?" You question.
His other hand migrates to your waist, holding you gently at your side, "The you better really sell it."
Your laugh is giddy. He lets you have room for mistakes. There's room to be human around him.
A deep exhale later, you place your hands on Joel's shoulders and begin to sway, a slow and steady pace with the beat of the song. Seems the mead has done its work of clouding your judgement - you're locked in the swaying motion.
"Is this okay?" You ask softly, finding Joel's eyes. There's a warmth in them you hadn't seen before.
He nods gently, "You lead the way, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."
Who'd have known that a single word could melt you completely. Your mind instantly hooks on it, cycles it in your mind as if to brand it into your memory.
Sweetheart.
Your smile is instant, but feels like one of those sloppy, stupid drunk grins that reveal how not-yourself you are at the words.
And so, you sway. As promised, Joel follows right along.
He shifts closer, readjusting the hold on your waist, spanning his fingers along the small of your back. A polite caress, not meandering and wandering around like most drunk men you'd encountered. Joel can keep his hands to himself. Joel has manners. Joel has self-control.
There's a lead to follow with his movements, you discover. It does feel more natural to wrap your arms around his neck like this...
In a swift moment you've melted into him, and with it, your nerves.
You also find that it's far more comfortable to rest your head on his chest. A beat later, your senses return, and you raise yourself back into standing position, realizing the crossed boundary.
"Gettin' tired already?" Joel asks bemusedly.
Maybe he didn't catch it. Thank goodness.
"You're basically rocking me to sleep here," you quip back.
Joel reminds you, "You're the one leading us."
You roll your eyes as you shake your head, bringing a laugh from him again. The sound of it lights you up from inside, flipping your stomach. You'd already learned that that sound was rare.
"Some dance partner I am," you say sarcastically. Joel's smile broadens, and the hand on your back shifts. His thumb idly sweeps across your spine.
Somehow, your arms are back around his neck, and your head is against his chest, all without protest. Joel's thumb still caresses your back as a sign. The song in the background changes to something simpler, with fewer instruments, giving highlight to a slow solo from the fiddle player.
"You're right, I think I'm gonna sleep like a log tonight," you murmur.
Joel's chuckle vibrates against your cheek. The huff of his laugh gives you a whiff of bourbon, sickly sweet and smoky, blending in with his deeper woodsy scent.
"You gotta be more careful next time," his voice slows. "We'll get some water in ya, help fight that hangover tomorrow."
You nod against him, smiling broadly, knowing that you're in good hands. Your words come out sheepishly, "I'm sorry I got so drunk. I... didn't think you'd see me like this."
A gentle squeeze on your side.
Joel's breath skirts across your neck when he mutters, "You think I'm gonna blame you for havin' a good time?"
His lips graze the shell of your ear as he speaks, and his words have a secrecy to them, an intimacy you hadn't seen from him before. You pay attention to the feel of his lips on your skin - they're soft and gentle, but know where to drag along in all the right places.
It's enough to leave your knees wobbling in your drunken stupor, high purely off of his touch, head spinning as you search for a new sensation.
"It has been pretty fun," you reply between trembling breaths.
There's a subtle brush of lips against your neck when he speaks, "I'd say I'm havin' a pretty good time."
Your knees practically buckle beneath you.
The rush of it all has you pulled back from him now, staring at him with surprised eyes. It's not that you didn't enjoy or accept that move, just that quickly, in front of so many people...
Joel's look shifts to something of embarrassment, "Maybe I've had a lil' too much."
You let out a nervous laugh, "I think I'm right there with you, I... I'm sorry."
He doesn't ask what the apology is for. He knows exactly which line was crossed. The hardened look returning to his eyes tells you that this moment of bliss is coming to an end.
"You don't got anything to be sorry for," the thick Texas accent is palpable in his reassurance. "I'm bein' a fool."
A fool. For doing this.
Hopefully he can't see the way that word breaks you. You force a bigger smile, a dismissive one that says 'we can just forget this ever happened', with a wave of a hand.
You offer, "Like you said, just having a good time."
His smile is wry. There's something unreadable in his expression.
Nonetheless, his grip of your waist loosens, releasing you as the fiddle in the background song comes to a silent end. Something akin to tension hangs in the air between you, pulled taught like a string to be severed.
"Well, I won't keep ya any longer. I... appreciate the dance. I know you're probably itchin' to get back in bed, so..." Joel says, trailing off, pressing his lips into a thin line.
You nod, collecting yourself, "Y-Yeah, probably good to get some sleep soon. You, too."
Joel smiles again, but his heart isn't in it like before.
He gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, eyes averted, "Get home safe, alright?"
Before you can wish him the same, he's lost amidst the crowd.
Hello, my sweethearts! So glad to be developing this story more, and I hope you've been enjoying so far! If you'd like, vote in the poll below for how'd you like to see this story develop (if you catch my drift)
As always, thank you so much for your support. And if you're new, it's nice to meet you! Love you all!
-Bunny
{all banners/dividers are from cafekistune on Tumblr}
#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#tlou#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us 2#bunny writes#smut#smut writing#fanfiction#tlou2#pedro pascal joel miller#pedro pascal
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
BNHA
something else to pretend by beeclaws
Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.
Retrograde by redrobin1989
Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/
adjective: directed or moving backwards
noun: a degenerate person.
verb: go back in position or time.
Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.
DC
dick move by konan_konan
Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans
dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min
guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense.
784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes
tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min
↳ replying to @timdrakeceo
asshole last week you said i was batman
461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes
or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse
the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan
“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.
“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”
Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.
Nine Worlds
with a winged heart by celebros
"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher."
I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow –
A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.
Original Work
That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam
Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below
Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.
Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.
Percy Jackson
Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13
Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse
Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.
The Goblin Emperor
A Complete Education by bomberqueen17
Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.
Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux
Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.
a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)
When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.
The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut
Part 1 of Keystone
The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.
A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.
#sorry for the delay you guys!!!#i'm in the middle of moving house ooft#weekly fic round up#my posts#tge recs#dc recs#bnha recs#pjo recs#hote recs#misc recs#fic recs
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Hello! Love you redesigns and the swapped au you made with you OCs! I've got a few question if you don't mind answering them (no pressure or anything)!
1) in a previous post you mentioned that Alastor and Charlie dont have the whole "Alastor tries to outshine Lucifer at being Charlie's dad" thing. So what is their relationship like in you au?
2) Is Sera in your swapped au? And if so does she act like Emily's Constantine? Like the two of them traded places or something?
3) How do Lucifer and Michael interact with eachother in present time if at all? Like when Lucifer made the meeting for Charlie, was it just extremely awkward?
Charlie's personality is a little different in my AU she is still kind optimistic cinnamon roll but not naive. At 200 years old, she has spent 170 years of her life in royalty, which has meant that she has had to be trained heavily (both academically and in combat) whether she wanted to or not.
Because she was the princess of hell and being naive would mean her future death and Lucifer and Lilith wanted to make Charlie a powerful princess and of course Constantine was interested in her education too.
So when Charlie met Alastor, after a while Alastor got to know her, he saw her as his equal instead of the naive princess that everyone thought she was, whom he could easily manipulate (the reason for this image of Charlie is that she is kind) and so a game started between them, Alastor trying to get Charlie on his side and Charlie trying to get Alastor on hers, both of them succeeding, but also failing.
Alastor also wants to break down Charlie's pacifist side and see her true potential.
Charlie thinks there might still be a light inside Alastor and she's trying to find it.
And he makes them a really great team.
In short, since their relationship is like this, if Alastor claims to be Charlie's father figure, neither Charlie, the hotel, nor Lucifer will buy it.
youtube
2.Sera is not in my Swap AU, I would like to make a big sister figure for Emily, but Emily being an only child makes more sense for Swap AU for now, but maybe I will change it in the future and add an OC.
3.
After Charlie convinced Lucifer, Lucifer called Michael and they had the most awkward conversation. They hadn't spoken in 10,000 years and the last thing Lucifer said to Michael was that he hated him.
It was a cold conversation but at the end michael says "it was a pleasure talking to you again after so many years brother" and lucifer after a while says "it was nice talking to you too" and they close the conversation.
But much later in the series, Emily and Charlie work together to bring Michael and Lucifer back together.
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gang... am I cooked?
I've started thinking of my academics in a blue lock sense and it's actually working
like if you think about it, if you currently have the desire to do well, you've already got the baseline egoist mentality.
to build that up, you need a long term goal and short term objectives to reach that goal.
so like for example, to get top grades, I'm chemistry, I need to study all the content and make sure I understand it.
then after that, you have to devise a way to get to those top grades. you need to think about what makes you able to do well on the tests, and it has to be something unique to you. that's what your weapon is.
referring to the whole "making soccer from zero" thing, by putting all of these components into practice on a mock test, if you do well it will solidify your hope in yourself which will push you to do better.
then using the puzzle piece analogy, you need to find your chemical reaction to produce good grades. you have to find what studying techniques enable you to get there and put them together to create a formula.
then by optimising those studying conditions, you can produce more top grades.
ofc it's important to have something that is continuously pushing you towards that goal, so I think it's important to find out what that is before you do anything.
they actually call me isagi btw
anyway, I was just thinking about this bc exam season is coming up, so I want to focus and do well.
be an academic egoist, everyone. it's good for you 😈😈
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So I was brain-rotting about Transformers Prime, as one does, when I had a thought. What if the bots don’t have the Uncanny Valley? Cause the theory behind the Uncanny Valley is that something that looked human that wasn’t human existed. So our brains developed an entire biological response to detect it. Since the bots were all created by Primus, and thus don’t have many if any predators that can mimic them, they just…don’t have it. Which is a big reason why Makeshift was able to trick everyone that he was Wheeljack. Till Bulkhead found holes in his story of course. What do you think?
That's an interesting thought! I like it! However I do have my own thoughts to add here!
I don't think Cybertronians would lack an Uncanny Valley phenomenon. Rather, I believe they have it and the response shows itself differently. Spark Eaters, Ghouls, and the techno organic abominations of the Quintessons I think would instill a very deep set concern when it comes to potential infiltration. I personally am of the belief that they are VERY adept at picking out something that is not one of theirs. EM fields, facial expressions, and overall movement probably help in that regard. I imagine when two Cybertronians notice each other, it is a split second scan that tells them everything they think they need to know. Failure to meet the inbuilt specifications to qualify as Cybertronian would likely be met with extreme reactions. Violence I feel would be the most common form of reaction to anyone who feels too Cybertronian and yet not Cybertronian enough.
Too many times the children of Primus have been harmed through those who call themselves allies and mask themselves in forms similar to their own.
In fact, I think they would have a heightened sense of Uncanny Valley considering all the crap their species has been through and the many MANY species that hit a little too close to home biologically at times. (cough the quints and their stuff cough). On alien ships, if you want to pick out someone who Isn't Right And Feels Off, best send the resident Cybertronian. Their sense of Uncanny Valley can be trained to pick out other things that Feel Off and thus save their comrades the pain of potentially being hurt from within.
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This may fall upon deaf ears/ears unwilling to listen, but as we go into the last two episodes of TBB ever, the fandom needs to seriously clean up their attitude. I've been watching shit go down from the sidelines and trying not to get involved with the drama—people being so mean to one another and bullying one another into believing their headcanons (which are OPINIONS) as canon truth—and I've been disgusted with some people's behavior on here. I'm not sure what about TBB S3 in particular has brought the worst out in people, but it's so annoying and it sucks the fun out of being part of a fandom community.
So please (and this should be common sense):
For the love of God, BE KIND. If you see something harmless you disagree with (i.e., personal headcanons and think pieces, no matter how stupid and uninformed they may seem to you), move on. Don't react because it almost always ends in a nasty fight. Be mature. I've seen people bullying others into accepting their personal headcanons as canon (e.g., the "Tech is alive" and "Cody is on Tatooine" truthers), so please don't do that either. Differing headcanons can coexist in a fandom space because they're headcanons, another word for opinions. It's not the objective, concrete truth. Don't force them on other people if they don't agree with you.
If you see any racist, homophobic, sexist, and/or xenophobic comments about the characters (e.g., I've been seeing some fucking awful takes on Phee as of late), shut them down. Don't be a bigot.
Stop insulting people's intelligence as your primary counterargument to people's takes. Everyone's critical thinking skills (I've refrained from using the term "media analysis skills" because TikTok has seemed to make it lose its meaning, in my opinion) can be improved upon, my own included. It's a learning curve and we're all growing. Be self-aware in that regard. It's a logical fallacy—the ad hominem fallacy—to attack the arguer and not the argument, so it just looks dumb and makes you look bad.
Tag your spoilers. #tbb spoilers seems to be the most widely used, so I'd go that route.
If you have anything else to add to the list, please do! I want the unity and respect back in the fandom again, especially as we reach the bittersweet end of a beautiful show that has brought us all together as friends.
#i'm not calling out anyone in particular#these are just my observations of what's been going on in general#it's felt different for the worse in tbb s3 and i miss when we felt more connected#you know?#i acknowledge there are some things i need to work on too so i'm not out here just being a hypocrite#tbb s3
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sad avery head canons
@ariscats requested this in a comment under my sad grayson hcs, and i'm more than happy to do it for my fav girl avery. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and sexual assault. pls don't read if this might trigger you, and if you ever need help, there are helplines you can contact for free. family and friends are obviously also an option (if you'd rather talk to a stranger, you can always dm me (or whoever you feel comfortable with) <3). sorry if some of this doesn't make sense. i wrote this at 1 am. hope you enjoy<3.
avery used to pull out a guitar (cause i hc she can play the guitar) and sing songs for her mom when she was on her death bed
she now visits her mom's grave and does the same thing. she sings her mom's favorite songs on the verge of tears (if she isn't already crying).
avery used to wear an elastic band around her wrist and would snap it repeatedly until her wrist became sore and red (it didn't always make her stop though) when she was feeling overwhelmed or did smth she deemed wrong.
whenever avery would drive across bridges or anything really high up, she would think about jumping off of it.
she used to get her mom or libby to help her bake cookies that she would bring to school to try to get people to become her friend (it never worked)
she used to eat lunch in the back of the courtyard in a secluded place most of the time bc no one wanted to eat with her (until she met max obviously)
i'm currently rereading tig and i can't help but notice how uncomfortable she becomes when someone touches her so i hc drake or some other random creep sexually assaulted her once (or multiple times) and that's the reason why she seems so uncomfortable with physical touch.
she used to cry in her mom's arms wondering why she wasn't good enough for people to want to be her friend
when her and libby were struggling to get by and couldn't afford food, she would save the food for libby and not eat (she would tell her she ate at the diner she worked at but didn't)
when she realized, at the age of six, that her father was a piece of shit who didn't actually want her, she started trying to find faults in her to explain why this might be (she thought that if she could 'fix' herself, her father might want her)
she sometimes purposely gives herself papercuts when she feels really numb just to make herself feel something
when she would live in her car, she would sometimes continuously bash her head on the steering wheel wishing her life could be different.
when she was younger, to get people to like her, she would give them everything she had. she would do their homework for them, would cover for them when they wanted to cause trouble in the school, etc, but, in the end, it was always temporary
whenever she comes across someone who looks like sheffield grayson she freezes up in fear/shock. a little voice in her head tells her she's in danger and they'll hurt her.
after all of the almost-death experiences she's been through, she developed a panic disorder (this is already sort of confirmed) that she has to treat with pills.
she sometimes takes the haters' comments to heart (the comments about her weight, etc). she would start telling herself that skipping one meal wouldn't hurt. jameson noticed really early on though and stopped her before it became too severe.
she's convinced people would be better off without her and that she only causes pain and destruction everywhere she goes (bc of what happened with toby)
she actually hates getting drunk because it reminds her too much of her father. jameson started to notice that she would get really uncomfortable whenever he got drunk so he started to drink less. when he did drink though, he made sure it wasn't enough to get drunk.
because of everyone comparing her to emily, she's convinced herself that she's just jamie's second option and she'll never measure up (personality wise, looks wise, everything). jamie and her talked about it a lot and she's now less insecure.
she gets terrified when she hears noises at night bc she's convinces someone's there to hurt her
she forgives people so easily bc she desperately wants people to actually like her.
in the books she says she doesn't allow herself to want to want things bc it could potentially distract her/hurt her. i also think she doesn't allow herself to want things bc she doesn't think she deserves to want anything.
when she's in a stressful situation or she's having a panic attack, she'll start scratching her arms really roughly until they start to bleed to get herself to focus on anything other than the stress/panic.
the scratches on her arms became too obvious so she started scratching her sides instead.
she can't watch any tv shows with violence/war bc the loud sounds remind her too much of the shooting.
one of the reasons why she realized her father was a piece of shit was bc, once, he got way too drunk and slapped her. that was sort of like the catalyst for her.
bc she grew up so isolated, she's afraid of emotional and physical intimacy. she's afraid she'll start liking feeling loved/close to someone too much since she believes it'll never last (jamie showed her she was wrong)
i'm an averyjameson stan so don't take this the wrong way but avery was affected by jamie thinking of her as only a game way more than she lets on. even after they got together, she was paranoid that he had ulterior motives.
she blames herself whenever something goes wrong in the foundation or hawthorne house even when she had nothing to do with the problem.
she's extremely paranoid when it comes to locking her bedroom door and stuff like that bc of how often her privacy is invaded.
i said this in another post but, especially before she inherited the money, she would sometimes smoke weed to lessen the stress she felt for a little while.
she hates going to sleep bc her sleep is always invaded by horrendous nightmares. it became so bad she ended up in the hospital (jamie was absolutely terrified and made her promise to talk to him more).
she has this one stuffed animal that her mom gave her not long before she passed that she cries into whenever she feels like her life is going to shit.
before she inherited the money, she was actually near her breaking point. she was seriously considering if staying alive was actually worth it.
before she inherited the money, she used to count on her fingers how many people would miss her when she died to convince herself to stay alive (the number was never more than three). the fact that the number was so low made her feel even shittier and made her spiral.
her grief for her mom is so intense sometimes she can't get out of bed. she doesn't eat, sleep, drink water, etc. alisa had to contact a therapist/psychiatrist to help avery get out of bed.
to end on a brighter note, here's a happy avery head canon:
she used to dance all the time when she was younger. she would pull out her mom's phone, start playing some music, and jump around waving her tiny little arms everywhere whilst singing along. she would pretend she was a popstar. her mom would film her and send the videos to libby. the brothers have seen all of them bc libby showed them.
not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, pls contact someone/helpline if you ever need help. speaking from experience, things tend to get better. sending everyone lots of love (and my girl avery).
#the inheritance games#jameson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne#avery grambs#xander hawthorne#nash hawthorne#libby grambs
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•°. *࿐ Cookie monster || NH13
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : we can’t be friends (wait for your love - Ariana Grande
Nico Hischier x Reader
Synopsis: At the end of a get-together, your cookie jar always ends up empty. You hatch out a plan to catch whoever is eating all of the cookies. Not once, did it cross your mind that they might be your Swiss neighbor friend from across the hall.
Word count: 1.615
Masterlist
I’m a sucker for neighbor au’s. Anyway, not too happy with this one and it probably doesn’t make much sense. But it’s late, and it’ll do for now.
You wouldn’t say you have a ton of friends. You simply have a select few close ones. They range from being high school friends that you’ve known for years and kept in touch with, to friends you’ve made at work, to your hockey-loving neighbor. Truth be told, you’re not that big of a hockey fan. So it��s a miracle how you became such close friends in a short time. Nico likes to say that it’s nice to have a friend who barely knows anything about the hockey world. He likes the fact that he has a clueless friend in his life for when he wants to relax after a few tough games. Of course, he’s also glad to celebrate with you when he does have some smooth-sailing games. Even though you might not know what’s going on half of the time, you’re always genuinely happy about his achievements. This he appreciates a lot. He might even love you for that, but he won’t admit that to you.
Every time you hold a get-together at your apartment. You’ve noticed something peculiar. The jar of cookies you’ve set out for your friends to eat if they decide to come over is always empty after they visit. Now, you aren’t mad about this relegation. You are just curious about who is eating all of your cookies. You’re glad someone is enjoying your homemade cookies, but you'd like to know who this cookie monster is. It’s a small jar that can only hold a few cookies. So you don’t mind it that much. If anything, you think it’s quite funny.
You’re hosting another get-together after your last one, which was a few weeks ago. You’re determined to catch your cookie eater. You’re going to try to keep an eye on your jar while mingling with friends. You put some of the newest batch of cookies in the cookie jar and set it on your kitchen counter. Free for them to take. Shortly after the silence in the apartment gets interrupted by knocking at your front door. You wipe your hands while walking over. You open your door. A smile instantly spreads across your face. “Nico! It’s good to see you again!” You say happily as you usher him inside. He chuckles softly, sending a tingle through your body. Are you crushing on your Swiss neighbor? Definitely. You can’t deny that. But will you tell him? Absolutely. Not. You’d do anything for him. “It’s good to see you too. How have you been?” He asks and sits down on the couch. You shrug, “it’s been okay. Been busy recently, it’s great to have some free time on my hands again.” He nods. He’s about to say something before he gets interrupted by another knock on the door. You offer him a small smile. “Sorry about that.” He waves it off. “It’s fine. Go ahead.” Without needing to say more you let more friends in. With a quick hug and a quick exchange, everyone is sitting in your living room and conversing with one another.
You come out from the kitchen with drinks and some snacks on a platter and set it on the coffee table. You hop onto the couch next to Nico and join in on the conversation. Time flies by quickly, and before you know it you and Nico are the only ones left in your apartment. Nico looks at the time on his phone. “I think I should get going. I need to take care of some stuff.” He says and gets up from the couch. You follow suit. “Alright. You should come over sometime soon again. It’s been fun.” He nods and smiles. “Oh yeah, for sure. We’ll talk about it. You should come over to mine next time.” You nod. “We’ll talk about it.” You say your goodbyes and he leaves. You watch him enter the apartment across from yours. He gives you a small wave before he closes his door.
You shut your door and head to the kitchen. You didn’t pay attention to the cookie jar like you said you would. You lay your eyes upon the jar, only to find it empty again. You sigh and grab the jar. You put it in the sink and clean it before storing it away again. So much for catching your cookie monster.
***
You’re holding once again another meet-up. You’re baking another batch of cookies to fill your jar. This time you have a solid plan. Some would say it’s foolproof. One by one your friends start piling in and welcoming themselves on your couch. Nico is the last to arrive this time. He apologises but you shrug it off. It's not a big deal to you. You’re just glad he was able to come. Everyone converses with each other again. You and Nico mainly talk with each other. The others don’t mind they encourage it. They know you have a thing for the 6 ft 1 Swiss hockey player. It’s as if it’s obvious to everyone but Nico. You stand up, “I’m going to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be back in a minute.” You tell him. He nods. “Alright. Go ahead.” You take that as your sign to set your plan in motion. You’re not going to the bathroom. You’re going to hide in the hallway, it has the perfect view of the kitchen. If you wait here long enough you’ll know who’s leaving your cookie jar empty.
Sure enough. A wandering Nico enters the kitchen. He sees your cookie jar. Some cookies have already been eaten by your friends. He grabs one and eats it. He smiles happily as he munches on them. He quickly eats one by one. They’re all gone in five minutes. He wipes his mouth to get rid of the crumbs and heads back to the living room. You’ve finally caught your cookie monster. It was oddly cute how he was scarfing down your cookies. You shake your head but can’t help but let out a small chuckle. You’re pleasantly surprised that Nico has been liking your cookies so much. You make a mental note to make another batch for him so that you can give him those the next time you go to his place.
You enter the living room. From a supposed bathroom break. You have a knowing grin on your face. Nico chuckles, “What’s that grin for?” He asks curiously. You shake your head, “nothing. I just came to a realization.” He doesn’t believe you, you can see that on his face. But he doesn’t pry you further. “Whatever you say, Schatz.” He has been calling you that a lot lately. You don’t have a clue what it means, and every time you bring it up he says it’s something they say back in Switzerland. He likes calling you that, and he has been doing that ever since he first slipped up.
Soon enough everyone leaves again. Before Nico leaves he turns to you. “Come over this weekend if you’re free. I’m going to be free. I won’t mind your company.” He says with a small smile. You let out a chuckle. “Sure I’ll come over. I’ll see you then. Is Saturday good?” He nods. “Perfect. See you then.”
***
Saturday comes quicker than you thought it would. You’re making another batch of cookies, this time it’s solely for Nico. Now that you know he has been eating them you work hard to make them perfect. You put dollops of cookie dough on the baking sheet and flatten them. You shove the cookies into the oven and set a timer of ten minutes. You clean up in the meantime. The timer goes off and starts beeping. You take the cookies out and let them cool for another ten minutes. After they cooled you put them in the jar again.
When it’s time to hop over to his place, you make sure to grab the jar and lock the door behind you. You cross the hallway and knock on his door. He opens and his eyes flicker down to the jar of cookies in your hands. He motions for you to come inside. He leads you to his living room and offers you to sit. You place the jar on his table. He looks at it and smiles at you. “It’s only us two tonight. You didn’t have to make them.” You give him a knowing grin. “I was starting to wonder where all my cookies went. I think it’s safe to say I found my cookie monster.” He stumbles over his words before you interrupt him with a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I find it rather endearing.” You point to the full cookie jar. “These are all for you. Just return the jar to me when you finish them.” He visibly relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Although you didn’t have to.” You let out a small chuckle. “I don’t mind baking you more cookies if you like them.” He smiles. “If it isn’t too much trouble. I wouldn’t mind it.” He says softly. You nod determinedly. “Then more cookies are coming up for Nico Hischier.” You tease him a little. He lets out a boisterous laugh. He winks at you. “I’ll be waiting for them.”
You can’t help but feel like you’ve gotten closer, despite him being your cookie monster. And who knows? Perhaps tonight will be the extra push you need. One thing is for certain. Your feelings for the Swiss in front of you are blooming strongly into something more than just a silly crush.
#hockey#nhl#nhl fic#nhl hockey#nhl players#nhl x reader#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier imagine#nh13#new jersey devils#nj devils#fluff
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SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS
sorry for the delay!
alright, gotta say... this one's a bit shorter. but the next will come like a train wreck i promise😇
Part 3: Ben Clark
oh the sweet old Ben... a kind and loving soul muted away. I'm thinking of inspecting his trauma and his general actions, and give him a diagnosis which I'm sure is canon even. I'm sure everyone who knows the disorder itself is aware that Ben is, in fact, suffering from PTSD.
let's start. first, what is PTSD?
PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition where someone feels what they have previously went through in a past traumatic experience. PTSD is frequently found with flashbacks to the moment, overwhelming feelings and sudden responses. there are two types of this disorder, PTSD and C-PTSD. but we'll look in the first one for now.
Ben has always been a really kind character. ever since the beginning. more of a 'gentle giant' type of character, though we never see him talk. he's soft, he loves to help his friends and never does anything vulgar around them, including the phantom dimension. he feels nice when he gets praised even if he doesn't show it too.
the first time we see him getting flashbacks and his anger issues being visible is when we first see Barron's behaviour towards Logan. anything that includes actual bullying gives him flashbacks and his response is his anger issues unleashing.
in his backstory, Ben is shown that he's more of a shy type of person, but he loves singing. because his tall and intimidating appereance doesn't match his softness, a group of dumbasses try to 'fix' him which he rejects. back when Shane strangled him, is what he gets flashbacks to. it was something that changed his entire life, he had a passion for singing but he never did with his damaged voice. god knows how many times he was hospitalized when he was going around to fights because of his outburst of rage.
yep, rage. I'd classify his anger issues as the 'rage' type with PTSD. PTSD rage makes more sense to me than just normal anger problems. I've seen and lived with many people with anger issues, but none of them are similar to rage. anger problems in general are usually verbal, if you don't make them mad to a point they're all bark and no bite. but of course after a point the violence behind the generic anger issues can unleash (see Tyler)
okay, back to Ben and rage. rage is an extreme condition of anger, the person gets violent and their thoughts are clouded with the rage which makes them not think before doing anything drastic. but he's not very closed off about it either, actually. the time where he accepted Aiden to do the storytelling was before the first half of season one, the gang wasn't even that close.
this means that he saw them as actual friends so early on. probably before everyone. Ashlyn took her sweet time accepting the friendship, I'm kind of sure that Aiden didn't at first (see Tyler, yet again), Tyler also definitely didn't (as said by Taylor in season two premiere) and I think Logan has attachment/trust issues but that's for later. the only other possible person that might accept the group fastly is Taylor but with Tyler's influence so close to her, there is also a chance she didn't at first.
Ben was fine with his friends knowing his past. he put his earphones on because he didn't want to hear about it, or else he knew he'd get flashbacks yet again. I'm thinking that it could be diagnosed too. Aiden knows that it's not just a memory, it's flashbacks to Ben and he covers for him whenever he sees something that might trigger Ben. after learning the situation, Taylor also does the same. they learn the severity of his problems and are all fine with helping him.
another thing I'm sure of is that he's extremely attached to his friends. we know that everyone is close-knit, but Ben specifically. he might not speak but that doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy their time. he does, fully. which is I think why he/his room was... like that in the facility, without any spoilers.
to say, the gang is more than just friends to him; they're his found family, where he feels like he belongs. they don't judge him for his silence there. they understand his past. they're not scared of him just because of the way he was built and they're not going to be either.
but what about his family?
families are one of the most important part of a character and their backstory. the family is what decides how they will live, act and even feel sometimes. then what about Ben's? where were they during his backstory?
yeah. Ben's rage causes something terrible to happen.
but it ends better for everyone. Ben gets the therapy he needed, starts to live with Aiden, makes the gang his friends and it actually goes well.
his parents?
we meet Naomi and William during Lily's birthday.
yes, Mike, Lily is goshdarn adorable.
first, I think Naomi and William aren't to blame. I think they did the best they could; they tried to help Ben, tried to help him get therapy, sent him to Aiden's place to help himself. then why didn't Ben's story stop?
Ben couldn't control his rage until their house got destroyed and he realized just how far it got. he sneaked out of the house, a lot of people seem to not see that detail. and they seem to be very caring, too.
they're amazing as a whole family, to be honest. even the little Lily doesn't care about her birthday getting wrecked, because she wants to help Ben and his friends. she indirectly helped Tyler extremely well, since the sedative idea came from her in the first place.
Naomi was the first person who brought up the whole 'we-are-seeing-phantoms' discussion and William didn't hesitate to talk about it. Naomi was also the first person to notice the phantoms when the worlds collided for a mere second.
and Ben himself has shown completely zero negative behaviour towards them. and Lily gets treated like a princess -even if she accidentally neutered Ben-
side note here, that Lily also really loves the family too. the way she cuddled Aiden when he died and came back was so cute to be honest.
so I don't think the family is anywhere to blame either. it was Ben who was strangled, Ben who fought, and Ben who saw therapy. the reason why I'm talking about this is because a lot of people suddenly blame a character's family when there's a problem with them.
guys. people with caring, loving families can be traumatized too. just because someone has a happy family doesn't mean they're suddenly over any trauma they live. doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay. it means that they have an accepting place to go to, a safe space. and Ben's family? I think they're just like that. they desperately try to help. help their son, their nephew and their friends. hell, Lily trying to help also speaks volumes in my opinion. their father -dilf no.2 after Mike right here- William was the one who offered the idea to get the kids saved from the centipede phantom. and to be honest? it was pretty smart.
she also tried to prevent Emma from going mad because come on, Emma would absolutely wreck anyone if they dared blame Ashlyn for this. (still I think Jessica has to apologize for being to insensitive smh)
Naomi really seems like a sweetheart to me, I already said what to be said about William in a single very important side sentence and if there was any kind of in-family neglect Lily would also be affected. but she isn't so I think we're good? I adore the whole Ben family tho.
to wrap it all up.
Ben is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which makes him see flashbacks and turn into a rage mode each time he is triggered due to his backstory, being bullied because he's too soft. his rage causes a gang to destroy his home (HELLO?? ARE THERE NO FUNCTIONING COPS IN THIS STOR-- oh wait it's america yea there ain't nvm) and his parents try their best. move, get Ben to therapy and let Daniel's side help him by doing stuff he loves. Ben is still trying to recover, but his flashbacks are strong due to impacting his entire life from his voice and make it difficult.
(vocal chords repair by time actually, but he hasn't been speaking for like 4 years so maybe it'd need some voice exercises until it returns to normal?? if it's just vocal chords he'd be alright. imagine if he could talk and sing normally all this time but he just didn't know. it's something between "aww poor guy :((" and "lmao"
but I don't know about voice box, can someone enlighten me on vocal chord damage vs. voice box damage? thamks)
and Lily. Lily is a cinnamon roll. no other opinions allowed.
-i wanted to make a part for Ben and Taylor but i decided wasn't fit here :P-
#sbgblr#sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard webtoon#schoolbus graveyard#sbg#sbg ben#ben clark
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He Never Misses! (Leraye Limited Event React I)
Okay so, here's the damn thing about this event.
I loved the amount of peeking into each noble's dynamic with each other so much and I love the fact that this is pretty much a slice-of-life approach to how a "normal" day in Gehenna was and is.
In an overall sense we get a good dose of Sitri, interesting pop-ins from Astaroth and Paimon, and a little surprise visit that had me squealing later.
This, my lovelies is 6 part reaction because I took that many damn screenshots and I honestly wish there was a better way to upload them all on one or two posts without a photo limit. BUT alas...
Make sure to grab a snacky snack, and let's dive in...to the life of long-haired Leraye~ ┬─┬(◕‿◕♡)
So we enter with Astraoth just minding his business and cruising around the palace and Sitri just comes up and starts getting onto him about not being at the palace lol
Turns out he was gone for a while because he was tending to his hobbies which is corrupting...
You hear that everyone? He corrupts anyone so keep your windows open (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
I'm really crying right now, so basically he's telling why it took particularly long this time around because he was dealing with someone who hated their dead-end job. (sounds fucking familiar right?)
nah now think about it, imagine wildly that someone at pb put that in the event as a joke when in reality somebody either once quit before or secretly a current employee can't stand work and low key just slid that idea in....buttt let's get back to the event lmao
Sitri hit 'em with the "Sorry I'll you finish but-" treatment. Though it's for good reason..
Awhhhh Roro...(yes my nickname for him leave me be) LET HIM FINISH
So basically what happened is that Sitri lost his favorite pen (rly?) it's the color of Solomon's hair and he put some of this man's hair in the ink and now he's lost it and he can't find it.
It's funny because Astaroth said the same thing as me "Why would you do that?" but he understood the sentiment behind it and was willing to give Sitri some insight on who to ask to find something like that.
LERAYE!
So our boy has crazy good eyesight. Like dangerously good to the point where I want to swap my eyes out with his because good lord I'd love a reason to not spend money on glasses with these expensive ass lenses.
So fun side note here that everyone leaves their door open except for Sitri, who most likely just likes his privacy or is used to having his door closed because perhaps the room he stayed in during Hades always had the door closed? Something along those lines I would like to think.
So now here are some nice Leraye and Paimon dynamics <3 our poor fave femboy lost his piercing recently and was asking Leraye to help find it. So it appears that either the piercing is shaped like Ppyong like the barette on his hair, or it's as big as he is, which last time I checked isn't Ppyong technically the largest red lump? (idk everyone else is pretty tiny when compared to him in the red lump family)
Okay nvm my previous thing it's shaped like Ppyong (LMAO) and this sounds cute actually, beside the fact that it becomes a fucking bomb all of the sudden (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
like imagine the TSA having a field day finding one of those...
I love how Paimon is like "Someone might die but most importantly my piercing is going to be destroyed :("
Amazing priorities bby, I support you.
Also, Astaroth is interested in how the piercing works and its explosive properties so he wants to tag along (he's so weird i love him) And Leraye with his cheery self is happy to help. So he goes to the window to start his search with those amazing eyeballs of his and his hair is blowing in the wind (imagine bouncy music in the background, his hair flowing and him humming while trying to find it)
Paimon is over here thirsting over watching him and it really fuels my "Paimon probably flirts with the nobles from time to time but he's never serious about it"
So within moments, he says he has a lead but hasn't really found it yet so the three go out looking around and well, so far not so good. This is pretty much the third time Leraye had moved positions and and updated on the status of finding the piercing and Paimon is getting a bit impatient.
You see that little pouty angry face? This event isn't voiced but I can hear him now getting all upset. But tbh I get upset too when I'm trying to find something and it's always "almost, maybe the next place it will be there"
Thanks Astaroth, really helping out here lmao
So it appears that even though he was circliing around alot he finally appears to have a lock in on the piercing's whereabouts which excites Paimon. Astraoth starts being poetic about Leraye's rooftop running and Paimon is just like-
You heard him! Stfu and get your ass movin' Roro!!! (I love how Paimon is super agitated easily when it comes to something he cares about lol)
I threw this scene in here because I was like "ah yes the devil with the good eyes I wish that were me lmao"
okay so pitt stop...because even though he's not known for his endurance he surely wasn't having a problem during his h-scene so....( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴
So when he's catching his breath Paimon and Astaroth catch up whose pretty much questioning how Leraye can even see this far ahead and it sounds like they traveled pretty damn far. (remember it's a flashback so Astaroth didn't know about his abilities yet)
And then out of fucking nowhere Leraye just goes to this random hole in the alleyway and throws something at Astaroth while Paimon is like omfg watch out???!!!
So we find out that it was Astaroth's snake that was in that hole just hiding out. So i noticed his name is Apophis and the described him as white but he's clearly black .-. ANYWAY.
(don't worry everyone he was just coming back from filming his role in Meg the Stallion's music video /j lol) So apparently Apophis was lost and Roro was looking for him but weren't they looking for Paimon's piercing?
Lol Apophis bites Leraye and possibly others when Astaroth isn't around and that's cute. Ofc he'd only trust his owner.
And ofc we find out that the snake has swallowed Paimon's piercing...and I'm just like. Oh yikes...so how are we getting this out? lol
So for this little scene Leraye explains plainly that he can see the shape of the piercing inside Apophis' stomach and yet the other two can't and that Leraye just assumes they can because he's naive in his thinking just like most devils, a childlike wonder and view.
And while Astaroth is reflecting on that Paimon asks for him to get the earring out which again I'm like how is he even going to do that???
┬┴┬┴┤•ᴥ•ʔ├┬┴┬┴ oh.....
he can make his voice deeper?
Me too Apophis...me too. I'm shaking, crying and throwing up.
Because think about that shit...Astaroth coming into your room to just randomly corrupt and fuck with you and even if you are corrupt he has a thing for making it even worse...and then he pulls this poetic, deep-voiced nsfw audio shit on you and now you're committing crimes you never even knew you could because of it.
BUT that stops for now with part 1, phew...only 5 more to go...! (i'm really sleepy rn so I'm going to get a couple hours of sleep and then get up and start back up again lol)
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb leraye#whb astaroth#whb paimon#whb gehenna bois❤️#whb event#whb spoilers#whb screencaps#let's goooooo noble event!
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The Better, Not So Hidden Half
Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader
Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.
Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging
Word Count: 1.9k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.
Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.
“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.
“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.
Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.
“About what?” you reply.
“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”
“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”
Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.
“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”
“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”
When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.
“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.
“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.
“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”
“Is he okay?” you whisper.
“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”
You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.
“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.
“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.
“Lucy, please.”
“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.
“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.
“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”
You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.
“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.
“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”
Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.
“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.
Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.
“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”
“The place where they met,” Talia answers.
Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”
“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”
“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”
“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”
“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.
“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.
She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).
“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.
“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.
“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.
Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.
You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.
“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.
“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.
His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.
“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.
“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”
Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.
“Had to take this off,” he tells you.
You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.
“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.
“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.
“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.
“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”
“I warned you.”
“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.
Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.
“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.
“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”
“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.
“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”
Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”
“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”
Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.
“Hi again,” she tells you.
“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.
“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.
“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”
“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.
“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”
Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.
You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.
“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.
“Don’t,” you warn.
“You kissed me first.”
“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”
“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”
“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.
“I love you,” Tim replies.
He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.
#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x fem!reader#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford x you#tim bradford fic#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#the rookie abc#fem!reader
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