#jamie writes

[pathetichimbos]

Hii! May I request Thomas Hewitt overhearing reader talk with her friends and saying that she came across this very cute guy whom she smiled at when they accidently made eye contact? (The guy is, of course, Tommy <3) And maybe Tommy spares her afterwards and decides to hide her away so that Hoyt doesn't order him to turn her into a human stew-

Thank you!

You're Mine

Includes: Thomas Hewitt / F!Reader

SFW

TW: Hoyt is a creep again / Very very slight Yandere!Thomas

...

Thank you for sending in this ask! Sorry for the long wait time and I hope you enjoy!

The cool wind rushed across your face, whipping around your body and sweeping through your hair as you leaned back on your own hands.

Your eyes stared up to the bright blue sky, a few tuffs of cloud floating idly through the giant blue mass as you sped down the highway, your best friend behind the wheel.

You were sat in the passenger seat, feet planted on the dashboard as the radio blasted loudly enough to try and rival the open hood of the convertible.

Carly was screaming along to the music, open beer in hand as she swung around her seat behind you, loud laughter repeatedly breaking up her own singing.

Brooke was singing as well, pausing often to puff on the cigarette stuck in her left hand, the smoke immediately obliterating in the harsh winds as soon as it left her lungs.

You three had been on the road for two and a half hours, not even making it a quarter a way through your trip. Time was dragging on as Brooke sped past the desolate Texas fields, pushing well past the speed limits.

Carly's laughing suddenly dies down as she leaned past the front seat, turning the radio down to match her new tone.

“Hey, look! There's a gas station up ahead!” She pointed at the large red sign standing prominently on the side of the road, the faded red and white paint being about the only thing you can register about it as you quickly pass it.

“Oh, perfect, we're almost out.” Brooke sighed, flicking her cigarette butt to the road.

“I told you to fill up before we left!” You furrowed your brows as you looked your friend up and down, “We sat at that first place for twenty minutes, what gives?”

“Not the cute cashier, that's for sure.” Carly giggled as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned her chin on the seat, “You know how our Brooke is, always the romantic.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged her, “Oh, like you're one to talk. Didn't you tell Freddy and Taylor you'd go out with them next week?”

“But I've got taste,” She insisted, “My men have to have culture. I don't just go for the first cute gas station clerk that comes my way.”

“Oh, get real, Carls,” Brooke scoffed, “The only 'culture' Taylor has is whatever's growing on his dick after sleeping his way through the entire town.”

Their smiles were wide as they continued to poke playful fun at each other, filling the few minutes it took to find the gas station with conversation and laughter.

The station wasn't anything fancy, no one in sight as the three of you parked next to one of the only two gas pumps out front.

The building was old and small, the white paint faded and chipping off the sides from the apparent decades it spent under the relentless Texas sun.

The glass door was smudged and unclean, the pumps rusted and stained, and the air was filled with the red dust Brooke's car had stirred up from driving through the dirt that laid out in front of it.

You couldn't help but think of how perfect this scene would be in a horror movie.

“Here.” Brooke dug a ten out of her small pink purse, shoving it your way.

“Why do I gotta go into the creepy old gas station?” You frowned, still taking the bill.

“Because I'm pumping the gas and Carly's already drank so much she's about to piss herself.”

You turned back to see Carly had already evacuated the back seat, hurrying off to look for the bathrooms.

You sighed and gave in, stepping out of the car and taking the opportunity to stretch as you made the short walk to the front door.

The metal was hot as you swung the door open, the creaky hinges screaming out as the heavy, rancid smell of old meat swept through your nose.

You couldn't help but cringe a little, nose scrunching and feet faltering at the old pig set inside the glass counter of the small deli to your left.

You brushed it off and stepped up to the counter to your right, greeting the older woman with a smile as she puffed on her cigarette.

She looked you up and down, a slight scowl on her face as she nodded at you.

“I need ten on, uh...” You glanced back through the door, “...The pump that's closest to the door.”

“Ain't got no gas.” She deadpanned, leaning on the counter with one hand as she looked down to the ten you had sent on the counter.

Your heart dropped and you sighed, crumbling the bill in your hand, “Is there another gas station around here?”

“Not for another fifty miles.”

“I don't know if we can make it that far. Do you know when you might get some more gas?”

“'Fraid those pumps haven't worked for the better part of five years.”

You let out a huff and chewed your bottom lip, “I- I don't, uh... I don't suppose you have any idea of what we could do?”

She let out a long sigh through her nose and rubbed the butt of her cigarette into the ash tray, “I can call the sheriff. I'm sure he won't mind taking you to the nearest station.” She punctuated her sentence by looking you up and down once again.

That implication made you more than a little uncomfortable, but knowing Carly and Brooke were with you was enough of a comfort let her call the man.

The lady turned to the phone behind her, spinning the dial as you tapped your foot impatiently.

You were looking around the station, taking in the old, dusty atmosphere as you waited for the sheriff to pick up on his end.

Flies buzzed, darting around the room as the dull lights flickered in the empty display fridge across the store, a couple of old wooden tables and matching chairs filling the space between it and the shelves.

A small radio sat stiff and silent on the table behind the counter, right beside the phone the lady was speaking into.

“Sure you ain't. And I don't know, only one of 'em came in.”

You balanced on the balls of your feet for a moment, letting out a short sigh as you finally tuned into the one side of the conversation you could hear.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Her voice was threatening as she pulled the phone away from her ear, “How many of y'all are there?”

Your brows furrowed as you stopped for a moment.

It was a bit of a strange question, but you supposed that he would need to know how many people he'd be driving, so you brushed it off and gave her an answer.

“Three, including me.”

“There's three of 'em.” She didn't acknowledge your answer as she continued speaking on the phone.

You pursed your lips as the faint sound of a loud man drifted from the phone, but you had no idea what the hell he could be saying.

“If you say so. I'll see you in a bit.” She finally responded before hanging up the phone and turning to you, “He says it'll be about five minutes.”

Hope blossomed in your chest as you thanked her profusely, “I'll go tell my friends.”

She didn't say anything as you hurried out the door, meeting Brooke and Carly at the car.

“The pump ain't workin', Y/N. What gives?” Brooke was repeatedly pulling the trigger as the pump sat in her gas tank.

“She said they don't have no gas, and the next station ain't for another fifty miles.”

“Oh, what the hell...” Carly groaned from the backseat where she had been laying out, sunglasses protecting her eyes from the harsh light.

“Don't worry, she called the sheriff and he's gonna come give us a ride!” You explained, climbing back into the passenger seat, “She said it'll only be five minutes.”

Brooke huffed as she put the pump back in place before climbing into the drivers seat, “Just our luck, eh?”

Carly shot up, beaming, “It could be! I bet the sheriff is an absolute hottie.”

You snickered, “In a place like this? He's probably a hundred years old!”

“Hey, Carly likes the gray foxes.” Brooke smirked, leaning back on her seat to face the two of you.

“Oh, sick.” She made a gagging face and grabbed her throat, “You are a freak, Brooke!”

“There's nothing wrong with an older guy!” You defended the idea, “They're more mature.”

“Oh, so you're the freak.” Brooke laughed, “It would be you, you've always been a weirdo.”

“True! Remember when we went to that haunted trail a few years ago and she hooked up with one of the zombies!?” Carly pointed out, making you groan.

“Don't remind me. He was such a clinger, I practically had to fake my own death to get him off my leg.”

The conversation continued flowing easily, as it always did between you three.

Before you knew it, the loud slamming of a car door caught your attention and halted your conversation as the three of you looked ahead to the sheriff's car parked some feet ahead of your car.

And older man began walking from the driver side, graying and white hair, a matching, thin, goatee stained by the dip he haphazardly spit to the ground.

“Oh, nasty.” Carly whispered, pulling a face, “He really is old.”

“Don't say that!” Brooke nudged her with her elbow before gesturing to you, “You'll give the old home's heartbreaker here a boner.”

You gently slapped her shoulder, “Shut it, he's coming this way.”

“Who's that in the passenger seat?” Carly asked no one in particular, sitting up further to get a closer look.

“Well, howdy there, ladies. What brings you to this little slice of paradise?” The sheriff drawled, a creepy smirk on his face as he finished crossing the path to Brooke's door, leaning a little too close for comfort.

“Just passing through, sir.” Brooke gave a tight smile, leaning back a little, “Ending up running out of gas.”\

He tsk'd a little, shaking his head, “Well, that just won't do, will it?”

You tried your best not to pull a face as your attention turned back to the sheriff's car, hearing the passenger door finally open and close.

Out stepped a man, much much different from the first person to emerge.

He was tall, towering over the car as he shuffled in place, head hanging low as his eyes stayed trained on the sheriff.

His long, black curls brushed against his shoulders, and seemed to be held down by the homemade mask covering his face, though you couldn't see any finer details from here.

He wore an old, dirty dress shirt, and black slacks to match, almost as if he were in his Sunday best, despite the stains and wrinkles adorning his clothes.

As you stared he seemed to notice, eyes darting to focus on you.

A deep heat flooded your cheeks as you flashed an awkward smile before shrinking into your seat, and mostly out of his line of sight. Staying up just enough to peek back out at him often.

“Oh, don't worry about it.” You tuned back into the sheriff, flashing his stained teeth as he finally stood straight again, “I'll just go in there and tell Mama to keep an eye on your stuff and then I'll take care of y'all.”

You could practically feel Carly shuddering as he stalked off towards the gas station directly across from your car.

“Thomas!” The man yelled as he reached the doorway, and you watched as he motioned the second man over before whispering something to him none of you could hear.

Assuming he was going back into the gas station, you turned back to your friends, who seemed to be avoiding looking at the gas station all together, thanks to the creepy sheriff.

“What a fuckin' sicko!” Brooke shuddered, “I don't want to go anywhere with him!”

Carly nodded, making a sick face, “Did you see the way he kept staring at our boobs? I don't trust him!”

“Who gives a shit what you guys are talking about.” You loudly interrupted their quiet complaints, “Did you see that second guy!?”

They both shook their heads, having been too focused on the creepy advances of the sheriff.

“Oh my god.” You groaned, running your hands down your face, “He was so fucking cute. I'm talking tall, dark, brooding, absolutely huge build. Guy looked like he lifts in his sleep.”

“Uh, you mean that guy, right there by the door, who can absolutely hear your bat shit talk?” Carly pointed to the man, who was standing a few feet away, completely avoiding looking at the car now.

You face dropped and you slunk into the seat, practically screaming, “NO, oh my god he must think I'm such a freak.”

“Um, you kind of are.” Brooke leaned down and whispered, “He's not that cute.”

“You are so stupid.” You let out a sigh, “That man looks like what every man wants to be.”

“Well, maybe he didn't hear you.” Carly offered a small smile, “Even though he definitely did.”

“Fuck.”

“Go talk to him.” Brooke nudged you.

“No way! I'm not looking to embarrass myself even more!”

“It's too late anyways.” Carly reluctantly gestured to the sheriff who was now returning.

Brooke rolled her eyes as she turned to climb out of the car, “Come on, girls.”

You sighed as you followed suit, Carly not far behind.

Brooke was the first to make her way to the sheriff's car, opting for the backseat, much to your and Carly's dismay.

Not even giving you a chance, Carly darted ahead, loudly announcing, “I'll sit with you, Brooke!”

You groaned, knowing it would be rude to try and insist to sit in the back as well.

You glanced back to the station door, noticing Thomas was coming over too. You sighed this time, hoping that he'd take the front seat, as he seemed to know the sheriff better.

But before that even became an option, you heard the loud protest of Brooke and Carly as they pulled faces at the open back door.

“There's stuff all over the backseat! We can't even fit.” Carly pointed out.

“Oh, yea.” The sheriff mused, “Well, c'mon then. Start grabbing stuff, we'll throw it in the trunk.”

He opened the trunk and your friends gave you looks as they started grabbing armfuls of various things crowding the backseat.

You finished walking to the car, planning on helping but walking slow so there hopefully wouldn't be anything left for you to grab.

Thomas was only a few steps behind you, watching as you stood beside the open back door, waiting on your friends.

His hands twitched, and his mind was torn.

His entire life he was ridiculed and bullied.

If not for his deformities and looks, than for his lack of education and inability to fully understand and control his emotions.

When people looked at him, they saw a monster. A freak.

But... You didn't.

You, a complete stranger, if even just for a minute, thought he was cute.

Cute enough to tell your friends and feel embarrassed by his opinion.

You treated him like a normal person, for a brief moment.

And he was hooked.

He craved more, more of that feeling. To have someone look at him like he was normal, like he was more than just a deformed monster hiding behind a mask.

He wanted to get your attention again, to selfishly hear your sweet voice say more kind things, things that no one had ever said before.

He stared holes into the back of your head, trying to will you to give him just a little more of your attention.

He thought you were beautiful too, and he wondered if you knew.

Could you tell, with the way he stared every chance he got?

God, he didn't even now your name, but he needed to. He would do anything to learn more about you, to keep you close and safe.

He was so lost in his own thoughts and emotions he didn't even notice how severe the situation had gotten between the sheriff and your friends until you darted forward.

Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. His mind screamed, his hand shooting out to stop you.

The skin of your wrist was so soft compared to his calloused hands, he never wanted to let go.

He wondered if the rest of you was just as soft.

Your confused eyes flickered back to his own, questioning him without any words being spoken.

He shook his head, tightening his grip just enough to get his message across without hurting you.

You were his now. And he would give his life to protect you.

#slasher fandom #slashers #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x s/o #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #Jamie Writes

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

Feel free to ignore! Sinner!Adam x GN!Reader where Adam sucks up his pride, goes to the hotel, and although practically nobody wants him there, Charlie gives him a chance for redemption and puts Reader in charge of watching over him and helping him adjust because they were mostly neutral with him. So maybe just some moments of them bonding and actually becoming close?

OH MY GODS!!! I am so sorry this took me so damn long. I really wanted to make this fic the best it could be. I really hope you like it. Again I feel like I might have slighlty strayed for the prompt but I really do hope it is what you wanted Nonnie

The small things - Sinner!Adam x GN!reader

Warnings Angst-Hurt/comfort-fluff

When Adam woke up in a shit stained back alley of Hell, oh how he screamed an extremely blasphemous bloody murder for hours upon hours upon . . . well you get the idea. The other demons that happened to be walking past carried on by unphased. Yes, some did take a sneak peek of the newly fallen angel throwing a massive child-like tantrum, but most didn’t give a rat’s ass about what he was going through. This is Hell after all, everybody’s got problems.  

Adam finally calmed down enough to crawl out of the rancid gutter. It took a moment for him to gain his bearings, seeming to have found himself in the pride ring. Which meant he was in the same rung of hell as that fucking hotel. Whoever's idea of this sick fucking joke was going to get ripped a new one. He shouldn’t be here. Why was he here?

He doesn’t remember walking but soon he found himself in front of the shadow of a much larger and grander looking Hazbin Hotel.  

He seemed to snap back to himself. Why the fuck did he subconsciously walk to the threshold of the one place that would most likely give him his second death on the spot? But that doesn’t stop him from raising a fist and knocking obnoxiously loud. He’d been in Hell for all of about 5 hours now and it was hard to tell what time of day it was down here without a watch. He didn’t have jack shit on him when he woke up, just a grubby, ripped up pair of sweats.

The door finally opened up to Lucifer’s yawning brat. Her eyes went wide seeing him there.

“Adam?” She was more confused than he had been as to why he was down here, let alone in demon form. “What. What are you doing here? I mean you’re, you, but you’re not. I mean why are you . . .” Charlie stumbled over her words.

Vaggie arrived behind her while she was stammering. It took a split second for her to knock him on his ass, her angelic spear aimed at his throat.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t end your worthless life again right here and now.” She growled out.

“Hey, Woah now. I mean no harm this time honest. I’m just as confused as you are as to why the fuck I ended up here but I have nowhere else to go and . . .” Adam shuffled further away for the spear’s tip.

“Vaggie stop. Let’s just talk about this.” Charlie tried to shimmy in front of her girlfriend. “I know he is the main reason for so many very bad things but we need to take a breather. Look, it’s 3am and we won’t be thinking straight at a time like this. So let’s put a pin in this extremely weird conversation for now. We can put him up in a room on the second floor and then take this all from the top in the morning.”

“I don’t know about this.” Vaggie side eyes Adam but he can see her very slowly caving to Charlie. “UGH! Fine. He can stay for one night. Just one but as soon as we figure out what is going on he is out on his ass.”

 Charlie squeezes her partner in a tight hug before turning and holding out a hand towards Adam. He glares at it for a moment before grabbing it. She hauls him back to his feet and shows him inside. His eyes flick all around the lobby area, clocking a bar on the far left, the elevators to the right and of course a grand staircase up to the first floor. He was shown to his room on the second floor. Charlie chose to take the elevator, Vaggie standing firmly in between them, her hands clenching around the shaft of her spear. Adam shuffled as far to the side as possible he knows about the short temper of his exorcists, even the ex-ones.

“Here we are 224.” She opened the door, flicking on the light switch and letting Adam walk in. “You’ll find towels in the bathroom and fresh sheets already on the bed. Just please wait until someone comes to collect you in the morning. Now get some sleep, lord knows we are gonna need it.” She said the last part more to herself as she left with Vaggie.

Adam let out a deflated sigh, he wasn’t sure that he would get any sleep, no matter how exhausted he felt. So, he went to look at the ensuite, maybe taking a shower would help put him in a sleepier state, true to her word clean red towels were waiting on the counter by the sink. Adam stripped and threw the grubby garments he’d had on into the corner of the room.

He turned the shower up high and climbed into the scolding spray. As the water rained down his body, only then did he see how his heavenly body had really changed into this disgusting new demonic form. Hatred bubbled beneath the surface of the dull grey-coloured skin, he scrubbed as hard as possible in a vain attempt to try and find the person he was under all this ‘fakery’. He still held onto the belief that this was an incredibly vivid nightmare and he was going to wake up safe and sound in his plush king-sized bed in heaven.

He can’t be a demon.

He wasn’t a sinner; he was a winner. This had to be all a lie. It just had to. He wanted to scream, cry or something. Everything was getting to be too much. Turning off the water he stepped out into the steam-filled room and stared at the large fogged over mirror above the sink. Adam knew when he wiped away the condensation he would see himself.

He knew he had to talk himself into looking at what he’d become.

‘Come on. You can do this. Stop being such a fuckin pussy.’

Slowly he raised his left hand and wiped at the mirror.

‘Fuck’

There staring back at him was his worst nightmare. Dark brown horns curled out of his skull through damp blackened hair clinging to his scalp. His skin now he looked closer It was really more of a short fur coating than human skin. His teeth were razor sharp and his tongue was yellow. He was slightly rounder than he was before, his feet were now coven hoofs. How he didn’t clock this fact before scared him slightly but the one thing that stuck out to him the most were his eyes. He blinked a few times but nothing changed.

He still had those golden irises that heaven gifted him.

Adam stood and stared.

He was an abomination. There was no removing this mask at the end of a long day.

Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Shame gushing to the surface. He angrily swiped at the tears trying to stop them at the source. He was a man. They don’t cry or show emotion. They bottle it up inside or channel it into something else. Yet here was crying like a hormonal broad.

He blindly grabs for a towel, bunching it up in his dark clawed fingers and screaming into the fabric.

He let everything out. Screaming out all his hatred, pain and anguish until his throat hurt from the exertion. The towel got thrown into the corner. Switching the bathroom light off, he walked slowly over to the soft looking bed and crawled under the covers. He didn’t care that he hadn’t dried himself off properly, full body exhaustion had taken hold and he welcomed the dreamless sleep that often always followed.

----

When the knock came what felt like mere minutes after he had passed out. He slowly sat up in the bed, the covers pooling around his hips. He wiped the partially dried drool off his chin, blinking a few times before acknowledging the person knocking

“Whatduyawant?” he grumbled.

“You decent?” the voice behind the door was not one he recognised.

“Yeah sure, whatever.” He yawned and stretched out his back. The door opened and in walked a sinner that Adam definitely didn’t remember from the final battle at the old hotel. They held a clean pair of clothes and a small set of toiletries that was clearly for him.

“Afternoon. Charlie said to let you sleep in a bit.” You seemed completely unphased by the half-naked demon before you. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” You stood at the end of the bed.

“Urm, good I guess.” Adam reaches out for the clothes you have.

“Well, good news is you ain’t getting thrown out just yet.” You drop the clothes into his hands and went to put the toiletries in the ensuite.

“And the bad news is?” He tugs on the clean pants. You turn and lean against the door frame. Your eyes flick up and down before smirking.

“Bad news is I’ve been stuck with babysitting your ass.” You push yourself off the frame with your hip. “So, I’m setting ground rules right here and now. You are only allowed to stay here if you play ball. Nobody wants to deal with your egotistical bullshit. So if you piss me off, I’ll go straight to Charlie. If you threaten anybody, I go straight to Vaggie and if you harass any of the other patrons. I will go and find Niffty because I’m sure she will be able to get her point across. Do you understand?” You stand tall with your arms crossed over your chest.

Adam is stunned by your strictness but finds himself nodding. Not trusting his words right now.

“Good. Now get yourself ready there is an activity planned for 3:15pm.” You walk away. “Oh and Adam. I want you to at least try okay?” You throw a soft smile back at him before leaving him to finish getting ready.

Adam sat on the edge of the bed staring at the closed door. Something inside him sparked briefly. He pulled on his shirt. ‘What the hell was that?’ He thought to himself.

-----

It had been 4 weeks since Adam had shown up at the hotel despite this stupid buddy system that Charlie had in place. Adam was kinda glad he was stuck with you. Something about your snarky attitude, the fact you always called him out when he brags about being who he was before but most of all the very rare soft acts of kindness towards him.

He didn’t realise it yet but you actually made him want to do better. He wants to be better and if that gave him a chance of gaining his wings back then he was sure as hell gonna try.

-

Adam hadn’t realised that he was doing good deeds at first. But seeing Charlie beam brightly when he would raise a hand before talking in the group sessions or the way he held the door for other patrons before heading off to do what he pleased.

Adam was really trying. But you knew that if you brought it up he would immediately call bullshit. Then would act out just to reclaim his cool guy image.

-

“Hey wait up,” Adam called out as the elevator doors started sliding shut. You held out a hand reopening the doors so he could hop in and ride up to the second floor with you. “Thanks.” He leans against the back wall. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He handed you a bag with something wrapped up in a lot of toilet paper.

“Gee, thanks.” The look on your face made Adam laugh.

“It’s not whatcha think it is. Just a little something to thank you for putting up with my miserable ass.” The Elevator chimed on the second floor. “After you.” He let you walk out first before following. “Are you gonna open it?”

The look on his face was a mix of excitement and worry. You decided to humour him. Reaching in you grabbed the poorly wrapped gift. He took the bag off you so you could peel off the wads of toilet paper.

It was a coffee mug.

“Since I accidently broke your favourite mug a few days ago. I thought I should get you a replacement.” His fingers crumpled the handles of the bag as he waited for any sort of reaction to the gift.

You turned the mug over to see the words on the side better.

‘I work with absolute legends’ was written on the side surrounded by little black stars. Your thumb traced a star or two. Still staring at the present in hand you felt a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

Not knowing how else to thank him. You rushed forward and embraced him tightly. Making sure not to drop your present.

“I take it you like it?” He drops the bag and folds his arms around you.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You rested your forehead against his shoulder. Neither one of you is willing to break the hug first.

“I had to do something. You looked so sad when I broke it. That didn’t sit right with me. Charlie explained that I was feeling guilt and  . . .”

You pull away slightly to look at him.

“Adam. The first man Adam, went to consult ‘Miss Feels-too-much’ about an issue completely unprompted!?”

Adam dropped his arms and started getting all defensive again.

“Why’d ya gotta say it that way?” He whined. You pull him back in for another hug which he willingly allows.

“Sorry big guy. I’m just really impressed is all. You have come a long way in such a short time. I’m so proud of you.” You squeezed tightly before letting him go. “I could actually go for a coffee right now. Good thing I got a brand new mug to drink from.”

He groans at your cheesy words before picking up the bag off the floor he hooks an arm around your neck and pulls you along back into the elevator to go and get that drink.

-----

This fic became longer than I thought it would.

My Ask box is still open if anyone else has a Sinner!Adam prompts they want to send in.

#jamie writes #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #prompt filled #my fic #sorry this took so long

[genderflu1dwh0r]

I love thinking about Tori in her glasses just relaxing on her bed reading a book while Jade is doing whatever chaotic thing she does.

#victorious #jade west #tori vega #jori #ref #jamie writes

[marzst4rz]

IM SO SICK IM ILL EVEN

#jamie writes #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #regulus black #james potter #GOD I HATE THEMMMMM

[me-is-confused]

I wrote a little weird thing for the Ghosts: (this is way pre-canon)

Keegan sighs as Ajax sits down next to him "you okay, Keegan?" "Mom and dad are fighting again" he looks over to Elias and Rorke, who arguing about something small in the backround."ah, yeah, that'll put a damper on your day" both fighting parties glance over at Keegan's wording, tho it doesn't distract them enough from their argument. "Who's mom, from those two?" Ajax whispers to Keegan, Keegan looks at him "Elias, obviously" that lead to a head snapping to them. "Why the hell am i the mom?" Comes a little exasperated from Elias, meanwhile Gabriel is trying to keep himself from laughing. "Oh, you know exactly why, Eli" Rorke grins at Elias "oh, go fuck yourself, Gabe" Elias shoves at Gabriel, but it's clear that neither things are with malicious intend. Both Ajax and Keegan make a grossed out sound at Rorke's comment. "What, you are the more motherly of the both of us, not sure what any of you thought" Rorke muses, but keeps grinning widely, knowing that the others understood exactly what he meant and it was not that. Elias just shakes his head and leaves, tho before he turns to the two younger "don't forget dinner in an hour, i saw you weren't at lunch" "and this is why you're mom" "shut the fuck up!"

#keegan p russ #ajax cod #elias walker #gabriel rorke #ghosthusbands #implied atleast #cod ghosts #jamie writes

[teamfreewill-imagine]

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Fifty-Eight

Summary: Paparazzi meet you and Jared exiting the hotel, forcing your hand at announcing your pregnancy Words: 2.8k  Jared x Reader x Gen  Warnings: pregnancy, mild angst

IKYW Masterpost

You blinked your eyes open the next morning, a content smile on your face, to find Jared already awake and watching you.

“What’re you doing, weirdo?” you asked, making him laugh softly and sit up.

“You looked so peaceful,” he reasoned, stretching his neck from side to side.

You hummed, smiling up at him.

“Doesn’t sound like me at all,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes as he got out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna shower,” he told you, unabashedly naked as he found his spare clothes in his bag. “You’re welcome to join.”

“In a minute,” you told him, breaking off into a yawn. “Gotta wake up first.”

“Sure,” he smiled, crawling over to you to kiss you softly before making his way through to the bathroom.

"You're really hot!" you called after him, hearing his laugh over the sound of water hitting tiles. "I'm serious. A great looking guy."

"It's good to know you're with me for the right reasons," he shot back, appearing in the doorway with his hands holding the frame, flexing his arms deliberately to make you grin.

"You're literally the sexiest man I've ever met," you assured him, getting out of bed to find your own clothes for the day.

You'd pulled on a long tee to sleep, but you still felt Jared's eyes tracking your ass as you bent to search through your bag.

"You're not so bad, yourself," he told you, making you laugh again as you backed him into the generous bathroom.

You put your clothes next to his on the counter before running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

"I'll remind you of that in a few weeks when I can't fit through a doorway," you jibed.

He shook his head, hands instantly going to your ever-growing bump.

"You're still hot when you're pregnant," he assured you, encouraging you to take your sleep shirt off.

"You've only seen me pregnant with one baby at twenty," you reminded him, pulling your top off and heading for the shower. "Now it's two at twenty-four."

"Yeah, and you're still gonna be sexy as hell," he promised, following you in. "I'm always gonna think you're hot."

"Oh yeah?" you grinned, standing under the warm stream and pulling him towards you.

He nodded, his hands slipping over your waist to the top of your ass.

He ducked his head to kiss you under the water, and you grinned against his lips.

"Prove it."

*****

You left the hotel in thick leggings and a sweater, regretting your disregard for your appearance when you noticed a camera pointed your way.

“Fuck,” you groaned behind your mask, Jared instantly taking your hand and walking you towards the car.

“We’re okay,” he told you, both of your bags over his shoulder as he offered a small wave with his free hand. “Someone obviously tipped off that we’re here.”

You shook your head as you approached the car, keen to get inside as soon as possible.

“What’s wrong?” Jared asked, putting your bags in the back before getting into the front.

You were already strapped in, taking your mask off and sanitising your hands again.

“I look like shit,” you started, pressing on as he rolled his eyes and cleaned his own hands. “Plus, I’m clearly either pregnant or fat, now.”

“You don’t look fat,” he dismissed, starting the car.

“Then I’m obviously pregnant,” you insisted, tugging at your sweater. “This doesn’t exactly hide the babes very well.”

“Is that what we’re calling your boobs, now?” he teased, making you laugh despite yourself.

“Stop, I’m serious,” you told him. “I don’t want this pregnancy to be outed by some stupid pap shots.”

You leaned your head back against the rest, closing your eyes as your hands went to your bump.

“I wanted to announce it my own way, this time,” you mused, “Not have my hand forced. Again.”

Jared sighed, feeling guilty as he knew it was his slip up that had forced your announcement with Dallas.

“You’ve probably got about an hour,” he told you, “Maybe a little less, until a shitty article comes out. You could… you could beat them to it. Make their breaking news a little less breaking.”

You opened your eyes, looking over at his profile as he drove.

“You think that’s a good idea?” you questioned, and he shrugged one shoulder, briefly meeting your eye.

“I understand that it’s important for you to be in control of this,” he explained, his honesty and level of understanding taking you by surprise. “So much of your life has been out of your hands, and being able to announce this in your own way… I get it. Whatever you want to do, I’m in.”

*****

You called Gen on the way home, not wanting to wait until you got back, talking to her on loudspeaker so Jared was still a part of the conversation.

She understood that you wanted to announce it before any pictures were released, supporting your decision to post whatever you wanted.

You kept her on the call as you described what you were doing, finding a picture you’d taken the day you had found out you were pregnant shortly before Thanksgiving and creating an instagram post.

“I’m gonna… I’ll turn comments off,” you told them. “I don’t actually wanna talk about it all until we’re 16 weeks at least, but I need to be the one to say it.”

“Of course,” Gen agreed. “We support you, don’t we, Jare?”

“For sure,” Jared confirmed. “We can post it and forget about it for a few weeks, if that’s what you want.”

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” you mumbled, making sure that comments were turned off before hitting send.

“Proud of you, baby,” Gen told you, making you laugh softly. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to announce it, but taking back control from dumb paps? That’s our girl.”

“Hell yeah,” Jared agreed, reaching across to take your hand. “You did good.”

“Sure,” you allowed, your phone already blowing up from your post. “Gen, we’re nearly home.”

“Alright, see you soon,” she told you, you and Jared both saying goodbye before you hung up.

“That was a good idea, right?” you asked, looking over at Jared as he continued to drive.

“For sure,” he confirmed without missing a beat. “I would’ve tried to stop you if it wasn’t.”

You smiled to yourself, running your hand over your bump as you watched likes and messages come in.

“It’s gonna be a weird couple weeks.”

*****

*****

You, Jared, and Gen had all contacted your agents when you got home, explaining that despite the announcement, you weren’t yet interested in expanding any more about your pregnancy. Jared had an interview upcoming with Good Morning America coming up - something you’d all forgotten about in the moment - but he had requested as little talk about the news as possible. He was happy to be congratulated, but beyond that you’d agreed to keep the details quiet until the twins had been cooking a little while longer. The only real detail you already had was the fact that they were identical, anyway.

The shots of you and Jared leaving the hotel came out soon after you returned home, with the source calling it your first outing since announcing your pregnancy, despite nothing being announced before said outing. Others commented on the fact that you were without Genevieve, speculating that she might not support the new additions to the family and that your relationship might be on the rocks. As soon as Gen saw one of those theories, however, she made sure to share your post to her story, simply stating that she couldn’t wait to meet them, hopefully dispelling as much as much of those rumours as possible.

*****

You and Gen were entertaining Dallas in the living room while Jared prepared for his interview in the office, the boys still at school for a few more hours.

Your stomach let out a loud gurgle, surprising your daughter from where she was sat at on the floor, Gen sat behind her braiding her hair.

“Sorry, baby,” you apologised, running your hand over your bump.

“S’that twinnies?” Dallas asked, making both you and Genevieve laugh.

“That’s just Mama being hungry,” Gen told her, running her fingers through Dallas’ hair and starting the braid again.

“But it is kinda the twinnies’ fault,” you allowed, getting to your feet. “I’m eatin’ for three.”

“I’m three,” Dallas announced, and Gen abandoned the braid in order to wrap her arms around her, pulling Dallas onto her lap.

“You are,” she laughed, kissing your daughter’s cheek. “You gotta stop growing, okay? You gotta stay this cute forever.”

“M’kay,” she agreed, leaning back into Gen’s embrace.

“Alright, ladies,” you began, getting to your feet, “What do we want for lunch?”

“I don’t mind,” Gen told you, putting her head on Dallas’ shoulder. “What about you, Bambina? Any requests?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese,” she blurted, smiling up at you sweetly. “Please, Mama.”

Your stomach rumbled again at her words, making you laugh softly.

“Sounds like the twinnies agree,” you joked, Dallas grinning back at you. “I’ll start cookin’.”

“What do you say?” Gen prompted, and Dallas got up, rushing over to hug your legs.

“Tank you, Mommy,” she spoke into your thigh.

“You’re welcome, Dallas,” you smiled as you ruffled her hair, making a mess. “Let Bambi fix that and I’ll go make some macaroni.”

*****

Jared handled the interview as well as you could have hoped.

You knew he was especially conscious not to let anything slip, this time, and you were aware that it was going to be difficult if he was directly asked questions about it.

“They congratulated us,” he told you once it was over, joining you in the kitchen as you prepared your lunch. “Well, me, but us.”

“We kinda knew they would,” you allowed, leaning into him as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“I just thanked them and said we’re all excited,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “They moved on to working with Gen and Walker questions pretty quick.”

“Good work, baby,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Dallas and the twinnies wanted mac and cheese.”

Jared smiled, pulling away from you in order to lean against the counter next to the stove, where you were heating the sauce and boiling the pasta.

“The twins wanted it, huh?” he asked with a knowing grin.

“They did,” you defended. “I wouldn’t usually be hungry this early if it wasn’t for these little guys.”

Jared rolled his lips between his teeth, trying to suppress another smile.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head slightly as he let out a laugh. 

“I’m just excited,” he admitted, smiling bashfully. “We’re having twins.”

“Yah, two of ‘em,” you confirmed, making him roll his eyes.

You switched the heat off under the pasta, looking up at Jared hopefully.

He took the hint without a word, taking the pot to the sink to drain the macaroni while you stirred the sauce to stop it from sticking. He brought the pot back over, carefully pouring the cooked pasta into the sauce as you continued to stir.

“Look at you, making an actual meal from scratch,” Jared teased, causing you to huff a laugh.

“I’ve been a competent cook for a while now,” you defended, and he nodded.

“I know, you’re great,” he agreed, washing the pasta pot at the sink. “But seeing you cook while pregnant reminded me of last time. When I taught you to make that veggie lasagne.”

“I was absolutely useless back then,” you remembered, and Jared raised a brow.

“In the kitchen, maybe,” he allowed.

You caught the glimmer in his eye, swatting him with the back of your hand.

“Get away, you pervert,” you teased, pulling out a dish to finish the mac in the oven.

“I’m just sayin’, we’re good at what we do,” he grinned. “We’ve made three babies.”

“Go and talk to the first one,” you laughed, pretending to push him away. “I’ll call y’all for lunch in a few.”

“I love you,” he told you over his shoulder as he left.

“Yeah,” you replied, fighting a smile. “I love you too, loser.”

*****

You were all sat in the front room, Jared’s laptop open on the coffee table as the six of you spoke with Gen’s mom on FaceTime when the boys were home from school that afternoon.

She’d called for a general catch up, and the kids were happy to tell her every little detail about what they’d done since their last call together.

Your phone started to vibrate in your pocket, and you instantly apologised as you pulled it out.

“It’s my dad,” you noted, looking at Jared before back at the screen. “Sorry, he never really calls.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Camille told you. “It was lovely to see you.”

“You too,” you agreed, answering the video call from Jensen as you left the room.

“Thought you were gonna leave me to ring out,” he joked, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“We were talking with Gen’s mom,” you informed him, heading up to your bedroom. “What’re you calling for?”

“Wow, rude,” he teased. “Can’t I just call to talk to my daughter? My sweet, sweet child that I love so much? The apple of my eye?”

You laughed despite yourself.

“You’re such a drama queen,” you told him, sitting against your headboard. “Did you actually just call for a chat, or-?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he admitted, laughing softly. “Dee’s entertaining the kids, figured I’d take a break and call you.”

“You getting tired of being their horse?” you asked, having seen the video Danneel posted the day before.

“Honestly, yeah,” he laughed. “I’m getting old.”

“Don’t talk about my dad like that,” you grinned, earning a fond smile.

“If you’ve gotta get back to your call, I don’t wanna keep you,” he told you, and you shook your head.

“It’s okay, the kids are boring Camille to death, I’m pretty sure,” you explained. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

He hummed, contemplating.

“How about your completely blasé pregnancy announcement?” he offered. “What was all that about?”

You laughed, running the hand that wasn’t holding your phone over your ever-growing bump.

“Me and Jared got papped coming out of a hotel,” you explained, “And I was pretty clearly pregnant, so I figured I should just announce it before there was a chance to make it into some kinda scandal again.”

“Smart,” Jensen agreed, scratching his bearded chin. “What were you and Jared doing at a hotel, anyway?”

“At the hotel?” you clarified, and he nodded. “Sex, mostly. Some sleeping.”

You laughed at the instant look of exasperation on his face; a roll of his eyes together with a soft tut.

“That’s… that’s clearly not what I meant,” he reminded you.

“It was date night,” you explained, taking pity on his evident disappointment with your first answer. “Last weekend was me and Jared, this week is Jared and Gen.”

“So the odd one out stays home with the kids?” Jensen asked, and you nodded.

“Yep,” you confirmed. “Basically realised we don’t spend a lot of one-on-one time with each other. Like, we have three kids. And our usual date nights were all three of us, so we’re changing it up a bit.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed.

“Gonna try and do it weekly until the babies arrive,” you told him.

He nodded, taking in what you were saying.

“What?” you asked, when he didn’t respond for a while. “What are you thinking?”

“You’re happy, right?” he questioned, making you frown slightly.

“About what?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“Everything, I guess,” he sighed. “Your relationship.”

The question took you by surprise, the sincerity in his expression leading you to believe that he thought you might not be.

“I love them,” you assured him. “Jay, I wouldn’t have wanted another baby with them if I didn’t. They’re good to me, they put up with my shit and call me on it when I’m being an idiot.”

“And you’re happy?” he clarified, making you laugh softly.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m happy,” you promised. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t.”

“That’s a lie, you’d call Danneel,” he protested, and you nodded in defeat.

“Y’all are a unit, though,” you reasoned. “Calling Danneel is the same as calling you.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe call me a little more,” he shrugged, and realisation hit you that he had been feeling a little left out.

“Is this your way of telling me that you miss me?” you asked, earning a soft laugh.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he allowed. “Call your dad, once in a while.”

You nodded, pulling your legs up under you.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” you assured him. “Now tell me what’s going on with you.”

#ikyw #i know your wife #jared x reader #spn rpf #jamie writes #jared padalecki #genevieve padalecki #jensen ackles #supernatural rpf

[teawan]

Nimona and its portrayal of the queer experience: a stream of consciousness "essay"

This is not a reach by any means, and I know countless people have picked up on this and/or discussed it at length many times, but Nimona is undeniably a story of queerness and queer people in a hetero- and cis-normative world. Through the use of the “monster” concept, the movie effectively demonstrates the way that the LGBTQ+ community is ostracized and villainized.

Throughout the movie, Nimona’s experiences as a shapeshifter, Ballister’s reactions and assumptions toward her, and other citizens’ perception of her parallel how queer people are treated in the real world. When Ballister first meets Nimona, she chooses not to reveal her ability to shift to him until it is absolutely necessary—quite literally a situation of life or death. Even then, she is reluctant to do so, because she has learned that this ability of hers, although not inherently dangerous or evil, is viewed as such and enforced by the only society that is explicitly stated to exist in the movie’s universe. The reveal of her abilities can be equated to a queer individual’s coming out, and it lines up nicely in the sense that often, people are afraid to come out, even to close friends and family members they have known since birth because of the political and societal stigma around the LGBTQ+ community that’s almost universal. They also often feel pressured to do so.

Ballister’s reaction to the aforementioned reveal also serves as a parallel between the two experiences. After she demonstrates shifting, Ballister asks Nimona “what” she is, repeatedly requests that she appear “normal” while talking to him, and uses terminology that Nimona clearly finds derogatory and hurtful. Part of this is the way he was raised—people who live in the Nimona universe are implied to live in a society where knowledge of those who can shapeshift—widely referred to as monsters—is commonplace. Not only is the knowledge of their existence commonplace, however—it is also widely accepted that those with shapeshifting abilities are evil and intrinsically against the concepts of peace and stable civilization. There is no real evidence for this idea besides a loosely framed “historical event” that has been passed down for one thousand years (as referenced at the beginning of the movie) and has likely been warped and distorted to fit certain people’s biases along the way. The same goes for queer people. The existence of the LGBTQ+ community is widespread knowledge; however, many people associate the community with concepts of perversion or sacrilege and don’t know much about the individuals who it’s made up of past these prejudices. Children are taught to refer to gay and transgender people by slurs, just like Ballister was taught to refer to Nimona as a monster. 

Nimona is treated callously by Ballister, especially at first, as if her differences make her less than worthy of respect and decency, and she owes anyone around her an explanation because of those differences. This parallels the way that queer people often feel pressured to come out and that they owe those around them explanations of their identities—think strangers overtly asking transgender people about their genitals on the internet, or even in person, or gay/bisexual/queer-oriented people being questioned extensively in order to “prove” their queerness.

Now, in terms of Nimona’s character and how she herself is a reference to queerness: as a genderfluid person, I identify heavily with this character. For one, the obvious—I feel that my gender identity is fluid, and, if it were possible, would choose to be able to shift between physically male/female/androgynous to match how I feel. Nimona also describes her need to shift between forms. At one point, she explains that not shifting is like holding in a sneeze—resisting a natural biological process. Yes, she can stay in one form, but that is uncomfortable and undesirable for her. She even tells Ballister that staying in the form he at first coins her “normal” one (the human presenting form) would be like dying, or rather, not really living. This really resonated with me and how I experience my gender identity—in spaces where I cannot express myself as the gender I feel makes me feel like I’m living half a life. It’s living with the saturation turned down to the lowest setting.

Another phrase that stuck with me after watching was when Nimona offered Ballister the deal of being his sidekick “forever” if she were to help him clear his name. At first, she offers her hand in her human form but then shifts to the body of a shark. Ballister asks her, exasperatedly, if she can just “be herself—a girl.” Nimona replies, “But I’m not a girl. I’m a shark.” This phrase is important because it communicates that transgender people are not masquerading as something other than themselves—they are being themselves. It is other people who cannot accept the fact that the way they have always seen a person is not necessarily who they really are. In my case, I often worry that people will not see me as myself when I identify as masculine—they might see it as an outfit I put on, or a role I act in. But it is truly me. My masculine identity is just as much of myself as I am when I’m femme presenting, just as shark-Nimona is just as much Nimona as human-Nimona.

This is definitely not all of the examples in the movie, not even all the ones that jumped out at me, but I think this is enough to communicate my thoughts. It was a fantastic movie. WATCH NIMONA.

#I apologize for any grammar and/or spelling mistakes #I am very tired and just finished watching #Nimona #and am a little bit wrecked #like eyes still swollen from crying #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #essay #stream of consciousness #queerness #lgbtq #the lgbtq community #queer experience #jamie says #jamie speaks #text #jamie's bullshit #jamie writes #genderfluid #transgender #transness #queer representation #trans representation

[aaronstveit]

wip whenever

tagged by bestie @afaramir thank you sm abby 💓 i finally finished mystery wip so i get to work on deep end again which is very very exciting for me, it's my fav of my current wips <333 here is an unedited bit from the outline i worked on yesterday!

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Grantaire lately,” Combeferre says at lunch one day.  Enjolras’ gaze snaps up. “And what about it?” Combeferre just shrugs, his brows furrowed. “And nothing about it,” he says, slowly. Then, “Just… well. We didn’t think you liked Grantaire all that much.” I don’t, Enjolras nearly says. Certainly that is what he’s expected to say, that’s his predestined line in this conversation. But… but he’s not sure how true it is anymore, is the thing. He’s not sure how true it’s ever been. Does Grantaire frustrate him? Of course. Make Enjolras want to rip his hair out? Undoubtedly.  But does Enjolras dislike Grantaire?  That’s a much more nuanced question. Enjolras dislikes some of the things that Grantaire does, and many of the things that Grantaire says, but. But the man himself?  “I’ve realized recently,” Enjolras hears himself saying, “that I rather enjoy his company.” Combeferre looks at him as if he’s grown a second head. “Grantaire,” he says. “You enjoy Grantaire’s company.” “There’s no need to say it like that,” Enjolras snaps. “He’s intelligent, you know, and funny when he isn’t being awful. And he’s a good friend.” “I know that,” says Combeferre. “I just didn’t know that you knew that.”

tagging @television-bodies @piningeddiediaz and anyone else who wants to do it!! 💓

#personal post #tag game #jamie writes #<- giving myself a tag now hehe

[ms-rampage]

Pushing Daisies

Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings: Language. Angst. Sick reader

Word count: 1.3k

Characters: Y/n. Lloyd Hansen. Special guest Doctor Jake Jensen

Author's note: In a world where there is NO cure, treatment, vaccination, or antibiotics for Tuberculosis (cuz RDR2 is/has been my whole personality for over a year now, and I'm going with TB!)

What?!?!? Another Lloyd fic??!? I'm really spoiling ya'll 🤣😅

It just started off as a cold, you figured it was the flu or just some common cough. It wasn't that much of a big deal, you didn't tell your husband Lloyd because you didn't want him to make an issue about it.

That's when you started coughing up blood, and your shortness of breath. You lost all the color in your face, applying makeup to make you look less of a porcelain doll, and add your natural color back to your face.

With Lloyd being away on his missions, you were alone most of the time. Trying to make yourself better with hot tea, soup, trying to keep yourself warm. You didn't want to stay in bed all day, so you'd kept yourself busy throughout the day while Lloyd was gone.

You didn't want to go see a doctor, but you went against your judgment, and went to see one that was nearby. You knew Lloyd wouldn't be happy that you left the villa unattended, but he'll get over it, especially if it was about your health.

Here you are, in the waiting room, mask on, coughing your lungs out, blood on the inside of your mask, that you'll have to throw out.

Y/n Y/l/n?." the receptionist calls for you. You get up from your seat, and enter one of the exam rooms.

"Doctor Jensen will be in with you shortly." the nurse tells you, after taking your blood pressure and checking your ear for your temperature.

You sit there on that seat/bed thing that doctor exam rooms have. Trying to breath softly, but comes out like you're dying. Wheezing every time you let out even the smallest breath.

The door opening startles you. "Y/n Y/l/n?." a young male doctor enters the room, clipboard in hand.

"Yeah." you respond with a slight cough.

He takes a seat in front of you, "I'm Doctor Jake Jensen. What seems to be the problem? What are your symptoms?."

"I'm sure you can hear them." You say in the least sarcastic way possible, "I'm coughing. I have shortness of breath. I have no color in my face, the whites of my eyes are red."

He takes notes as you further explain your symptoms, "Is there blood?."

You nod, "Sometimes."

He takes out an ophthalmoscope to check the pupil of your eyes trying to make very little contact since he doesn't have gloves on.

"Are you able to eat? Keep food down?." he asks as he pulls away to take more notes.

"Not without throwing up. I usually don't eat." you tell him.

"Any chest pains?." he continues to take notes.

"All the time." you reply, coughing into your mask.

He puts on a pair of gloves, and takes out a stethoscope. "Take a deep breath."

You take a deep breath. "One more deep breath."

You take another deep breath.

"Do you mind pulling your mask down for a second." he asks, pulling out a tongue depressor. "Say ah."

You lower your mask, open your mouth, and make that ah sound doctors ask you when they use the depressor.

He gets up from his seat, tosses his gloves in the trash and washes his hands.

"What is it?." you ask, starting to feel anxious.

"Its… not good." he tells you as he dries his hands, his expression changing to pure sympathy.

"I assume that." you tell him, "Please doc. What is it?."

He turns to face you, sitting back down on his chair "From your symptoms, shortness of breath, coughing up blood, not eating. Chest pains. You have tuberculosis."

You feel yourself become numb. Your heart sinking down into your stomach. Like your whole world just stopped, you immediately thought of Lloyd. "There's a cure right? Medicine. Antibiotics. Anything?." your voice cracks, and you feel like you're about to break down.

"Unfortunately, there isn't. Figured with all this technology, and medicines there are. You figured there would be a cure for TB. I'm really sorry, it's a very progressive diseases."

You can't help but break down, "So, so, will this disease kill me?."

He awkwardly shifts in his seat, but you can tell he doesn't want to tell you that it will, it's probably harder on him to tell you that you're slowly dying. "It's best to stay home, stay warm." he tells you, "It… pains me to say this, but the worse it gets it will kill you."

You wipe your tears away, and stand up. "Thank you, Doctor Jensen, for your time."

"Before you leave." he says as he quickly writes down on a prescription paper, "Take this. It won't cure your TB, but it will help a little. Give it to the receptionist and she'll process it."

You take the paper, and give it to the receptionist so she can process it to your pharmacy.

A few days later, Lloyd returns from his mission.

"Pumpkin!." he calls for you, but you're sitting outside on the back patio bench in front of the fountain.

You've been crying nonstop, you didn't know how to tell Lloyd that you were dying, and there was no cure for your illness.

He looks around the villa for you until he sees you outside.

"Y/n, sweetheart." he says as he walks outside. You look away, not being able to look at him, or in his direction.

He notices your behavior isn't the same as your usual behavior. "Y/n? What's wrong?." he takes a seat next to you, "Look at me."

You shake your head, but he's relentless, "Y/n!." he grabs your hand, but you pull it away. Trying to get away from him.

"I'm fine!." you shout at him, but it triggers you to cough violently, blood falling in your hand. "I'm fi-." You continue to cough, and gasp for air as blood drips out your mouth.

Lloyd sees this, his posture and expression softens, "Y/n, are you okay?."

You look over at him. Seeing your pale face, the whites of your eyes red, your face sunken in. "I'm not fine."

"Sit down." he motions you back to the bench you were once sitting on, "What happened?."

You take a deep breath, trying to hold back another cough, "I… I went to see a doctor."

You look over at him to see if his expression changed at the fact that you left the villa, "Let me explain. I went to see a doctor, and he said my symptoms, from seeing them."

You sit there trying to figure out what to say, and how to say it.

"Y/n." he says, his voice soft. He moves a strain of your hair away from your face.

"I got TB. Tuberculosis." You continue, "He told me, it's severe, and there's a possibility that I will-."

"We will get through this." he tells you, not meaning to cut you off, but he knew what you were gonna say, and he didn't want to hear it. Placing his hand over yours, "I will see you through this. I'm not leaving you."

You break down yet again, you knew he wouldn't leave you. You knew he loved you to death. You take a deep breath, "I just… can't wrap my head around this. I don't even know how I got this."

He places his other hand on the back of your neck, while the other is still on your hand. He gently massages the back of your neck.

"Lloyd?." you say looking up at the sky.

"Yes sweetheart?." he asks, softly.

You look over at him, eyes watery, tears trailing down your cheeks, "I'm afraid."

"I know you are, pumpkin. So am I. I can't even think of losing you."

He comforted you the rest of the night, and everyday afterwards. He never left your side, he made sure you were kept warm, made sure you were eating until you made a recovery. Everyday he worried that he would wake up one morning to see that you never did.

#lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #the gray man #sick reader au #chris evans #chris evans characters #jamie writes #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen fanfiction #soft lloyd hansen #angst lloyd hansen #jake jensen

[drippyredsmile]

Abby x reader smut

Imagine you're the daughter of Gibbs and dating Abby(trans mtf), you borrow Gibbs's car because your car was in the shop, and drive Abby around to get some stuff done. When it starts to get a bit late, you are about to head back home to drop off the car, but you and Abby end up hooking up. Abby ends up having you on your hands and knees in the backseat, pounding into you. You can't help but go face down ass up because of how much everything is.

Abby is gripping your hip with one hand and your hair with the other. She ends up cumming deep inside of you and it leaks out on the seats. Y'all eventually flip so you are on your back, Abby gets down and starts eating you out. You dig your nails into the seat, aswell as hold Abby's head in place. When you cum, she looks up at you with a smirk. You eventually get dressed and get back to driving. You drop Abby off at her house before dropping off the car at your fathers.

#ncis #abby sciuto #x reader #jamie writes #imagine

[kazanskyed]

second (and final) chapter of electric touch has been posted!

here it is folks, the one you've been waiting for (well, 27 people were waiting idk about you specifically)!! finally finished my icemav 7 minutes in heaven fic thanks to my friends and also beta readers (@honckity, @spencer-is-smelly, and @cryptic-queer-cryptid) <3 hope it's everything you ever dreamed of. or something.

PSA: rating and tags changed !! so just be aware before going into it ig

#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #fanfiction #the 7mih fic #fanfic #icemav fanfiction #ao3 #update #jamie writes #pete maverick mitchell x tom iceman kazansky

[pathetichimbos]

hiiiii

was wondering if you’d like 2 do a quick “where is she” type hurt&comfort prompt with thomas and/or bo!! maybe some victim vs slasher action thatd be funn

Includes: Thomas Hewitt / F!Reader

SFW

TW: Hurt / Comfort / Reader is kidnapped under false pretenses of being 'saved' / Their slasher bf does Not Like That / Canon Typical Violence

…

Hi! Thank you for sending in this ask and I hope you're doing very well.

This... Did not turn out to be a quick drabble, haha. I, as usual, got carried away. When I checked the page count I was at 12 pages and had only written Thomas' part, so there's that. I don't want to overload in one post, or keep you waiting any longer, and I'm currently struggling to write Bo's part at the moment, so I'm going to post Tommy's part for now and update this later with Bo. I welcome any pointers for his character, by the way, I've never written for him lol. Anyways... I hope y'all enjoy!

Quick side note: I just recently reached 300 followers!! Yay!! I'm so excited and happy that you guys enjoy my work <3 I'm going to try and start writing more often so please, send in all your requests! Thank y'all for taking the time to read my stories and follow me, it means the world to me.

Thomas Hewitt:

The Texas air was hot and heavy, as it was in most August days, weighing everything from the birds to the pigs down, not much of anything caring to move about in this heat. Even Hoyt elected to take the day off, currently lounging about on the front porch, beer in hand. Though that wasn't too unusual, at least now he had somewhat of an excuse.

Luda Mae was in town, running the store, today being one of those rare days where she took Monty with her so he could “get his stinkin' ass out of the house”, as she had so graciously put it.

Not even Thomas had a lot to do today, so the two of you were taking advantage of that, currently set up on the living room couch.

You were sitting on the back of the couch, with Thomas situated between your legs, mask off and hair down so you could properly comb through it.

It was late morning by this point, so the strongest wave of heat hadn't come through yet, and you had all the windows open to try and keep the air flowing through the house before it did.

The radio played an old song from its corner, echoing a woman's voice throughout the living room. You hummed along, gently separating another section of hair and spraying a light mist of water over it with a spray bottle so you could carefully brush it without hurting your husband.

Thomas currently had his head leaning against your thigh, partly to give your more access to that side of his head, and partly because he was dozing off from the mix of humming and having you gently work through the knots in his dark curly hair.

You finished brushing out that section, running your fingers from his roots to the tips a couple of time to be sure, before pulling it to the side to place in a loose ponytail with the rest of his untangled hair.

You could start feel the soft, deep rumble as Thomas began to snore, and let out a soft laugh.

He had a habit of falling asleep every-time you brushed his hair, enjoying the close contact and the chance to take his mask off and let his skin breathe.

You let out a soft hum and bent down to place a kiss on his head, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone as you did.

You pulled back and continued to work, putting in even more effort to be gentle and soft as to not wake him. You carefully moved his head to your other thigh and began to brush the other side of his head, the brush easily combing through the knots, a stark contrast from when you initially started brushing his hair for him a few months ago.

After another fifteen minutes or so, you were finished, and pulled his hair together to give it a final brush through before setting the water bottle and brush to the side, sitting up straight to stretch your back and arms.

Thomas was still gently snoring, face pressed against your inner thigh as he continued his midday nap. You didn't really have the heart to wake him, but your ass was starting to fall asleep and hurt from sitting on the hard surface of the back of the couch, and it was getting close to time to start on lunch.

You let your hands run down his hair and to his shoulders, giving them a gentle but firm rub as you planted a kiss on his temple, speaking softly, “Tommy, baby, wake up. I'm all done.”

Despite what most people would assume, Thomas wasn't too much of a heavy sleeper, especially when he was on the couch, and that little bit was just enough to stir him awake.

He sucked in a shallow breath and let out a yawn, stretching his arms under your legs before hooking them over your thighs, letting his head fall back to look up at you with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning.” You joked with a smile of your own.

He hummed a bit and leaned over, pressing a kiss to your thigh.

“I've gotta start on lunch soon.”

He shut his eyes and let out a soft grunt of disapproval.

“Mhm.” You hummed back, running a hand through his hair again, “And then I've gotta--”

You were cut short by the rigid sound of the telephone ringing from the table behind you.

You sighed and reached around, pulling the base up and into to your lap.

“Hello?” You answered, holding the receiver with your shoulder while you idly played with Thomas' hair.

“Y/N? Could you put Hoyt on?” Luda Mae responded, skipping a greeting as she always did. After all, she's calling her own house, why should she have to say hello?

“'Course, Mama, lemme call for him.” You agreed, covering the receiver with your hand before yelling, “Hoyt, it's for you!”

No response.

“Hoyt?”

Nothing.

“Hoyt!”

Typical.

You reached down and tapped Thomas' shoulder, catching his attention, “Tommy will you go grab Hoyt? I think he's passed out in the rocker out front.”

He let out a disgruntled sigh but stood up, reluctantly sulking out the front door.

“Thomas is goin' to get him now, Mama, I think he fell asleep on the porch again.” You explained into the phone.

“Alright.” She sighed, “Just tell him to hurry up.”

After a few moments you could hear Hoyt yell from the front porch, followed by him stumbling in, still half asleep, with Thomas in tow.

“Phone.” You set the base back down and held out the phone for him to take.

“Who is it?” He slurred out, yet still grabbed the phone.

“It's Mama.”

“What the hell does she want?” He grumbled, before repeating the question to her, “What the hell do you want?”

You silently ushered Thomas over and grabbed his mask before standing straight on the couch to help him put it back on. It wasn't your favorite thing, having your husband hide half of his face, but Hoyt was awfully mean when he was drunk and it made Tommy feel more secure.

“Uh-huh. Alright. Yea. Yea. I'll be there in 'bout half an hour.” You could hear Hoyt finish mumbling and hang up the phone behind you before much too loudly announcing, “Thomas, get ready, we got supper comin' in down at the store!”

Thomas and you both let out a sigh. Well, looks like your day off was cut short.

There was a routine in place for days like these and falling into it was rather easy. You were placed on Hoyt duty, meaning you had to get his sheriff uniform ready to go and Hoyt sobered up enough to drive, and Thomas had to prepare the basement for the arrival of new guests, to put it delicately.

The two of you set to work, Thomas planting a quick kiss to your lips before tucking himself away in the basement, and you sat Hoyt down with a plate of carbs and a large glass of water to try and sober him while you tracked down everything he needed.

By the time you finished finding all of the things he carelessly threw around from the day before, he had sobered up enough that you deemed him safe enough to leave the house.

You assumed you had quite sometime before Hoyt would make it back, so you decided you'd take the time to get a few chores done beforehand, even though you knew it would upset Thomas if he found out.

It was his request that you stay in your shared room when Hoyt brought any new victims home, always worried that something would happen.

Normally, you listened to him, but the longer you waited the more chores would pile up. Besides, it would just take a few minutes.

You started with the dishes from breakfast, what with it being a lazy day and all, you figured you could do them at lunch instead. You had a couple of other things to clean up in the kitchen and finished it off with gathering the trash to take it out on your way to feed some leftover slop to the pigs.

Only an hour and a half. You smiled to yourself as you checked the wall clock, happy that you finished the chores so fast.

You dropped off the bag in the can by the back door and dumped the leftovers into the slop bucket that you kept beside it and made the short walk to the small barn out back where the pigs stayed, passing the chicken coop on the way.

The small pink pigs squealed with delight when they saw you approach, having gotten used to either you or Thomas being the ones to bring them food.

They gathered around the long feed trout that was set up in their pen, happily squealing in anticipation as you dropped the spoiled leftovers into their pen, each of them happily chowing down on the food. You kneeled down and patted one of their backs, one of the females, if her large, very obvious pregnant belly gave any clue. Tommy had noticed a while back that she was pregnant, and you gave extra care in keeping an eye on her.

You cooed after her, ushering her to eat all she could for her and her little babies, gently rubbing her back as she ate.

You sat up after a moment, stretching your back again before standing up and grabbing the slop bucket to carry back to the house.

You cringed when you picked it up, however, this time catching a whiff of the moldy food that caked the sides. Apparently it had been a while since the bucket was washed out.

You carried it out of the barn and to the side where one of the outside hoses sat, turning on the creaky faucet to wash out the bucket.

It was a messy job, and by the end of it, the dirt you once stood on was now mud and your shirt was soaked with a large splash of water. At least it helped cool you down a bit, being out in the heat like this was exhausting and you were already sweating.

You turned the faucet off and shook the bucket out a bit more before the sound of running footsteps caught your attention.

You turned back to the house, only to see a young man you didn't know running straight for you.

You jumped at the sight, taking a step back out of surprise and fear. However, when you did, your shoe hit the mud and you slipped, landing clear on your back and knocking the breath out of you.

You tried to take in a sharp gasp of air, only to be met with pain coursing from your spine to your chest, making it tighten.

You sat up, grasping at your chest and trying to breathe, tears streaming down your face, all while the man finally reached you.

“Hey, hey--!” He called out in a loud whisper, shaking as fear lined his voice and filled his wide eyes.

You shook your head no, pushing yourself back and away from him.

“No, no, it's okay, it's okay,” He raised his hands as he kneeled down, “I-I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help, I'm gonna help.”

You continued shaking your head and pushing away, desperately trying to breathe so you could scream for Thomas.

He ignored your obvious attempts to get away from him, and grabbed your arm, pulling you up and towards the back of the barn. You finally managed to pull in your first breath, coughing as he continued yanking on your wrist, practically dragging you across the dirt and grass.

There was a second door in the back and he found it easily, pushing you into the barn and towards the ladder to the loft where the hay was kept.

The pigs squealed in surprise, running around in their pen in distress as you tried to fight against the stranger.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” You pushed and pulled against his grip as he tried to shove you up the ladder.

“No, it's okay, I-I'm not one of them, I'm not gonna hurt you--” He ignored your pleas as he spoke over you, “I'm gonna help, I'm gonna help--”

You could feel the old creaky wood bend and groan against your back as he shoved you into the ladder repeatedly, trying to force you up there.

Sharp pain shot through your elbow as it slammed into the wall, finally managing to get your wrist out of his grip.

You ignored the pulsing and shoved him back, freezing when Hoyt's revolver fell from the man's pants.

You thought about diving for it, but he was faster, his hands in the air as he knelt down to pick it up.

“No, don't, don't worry, I- I'm not going to hurt you, I got this, before I ran--” He grabbed the gun and shoved it back into his jeans, “I won't hurt you, I promise.”

How stupid could this man be? Did he still not get it yet?

You were shaking, your racing heart almost loud enough to cover up the sounds of the pigs fearful squeals and Thomas' chainsaw echoing back from the front yard.

There was no way he'd hear you, not all the way back here, and definitely not in time.

You took a shaky breath and silently cursed yourself for reloading that same pistol before sending Hoyt off just earlier today.

Your mind started racing as you tried to think of a plan, your hands grasping at the air, looking him up and down.

He was on the younger side, early twenties at most, splashes of blood covering his open red button up and gray t-shirt. He was blond, making his light five o'clock shadow almost hard to see against his tan skin. His brown eyes were puffy and red, practically shaking with fear, his chest heaving and fists curled at his side.

“We, we've got to hide--” He took two bold steps towards you, “Before they come looking for us.”

You pressed yourself harder against the ladder as he did, taking in a shaky breath and nodding. He didn't know who you were, and you needed to keep it that way until you could escape.

You turned around to face the ladder, the old wood creaking under your weight as you climbed up, pushing the thick wooden door open with a thud before climbing in.

The scratchy hay dug into your knees and hands as you crawled further into the loft, giving the man room to climb in right behind you.

He immediately shut the small door and looked around, “We should put something heavy on the door.”

“B-But what if we need to get out quickly?” You countered, not wanting to make it harder to get out.

“It'll make it harder for them to get in.” He ignored your input and walked over to the nearest bale of hay, “We need to keep them out.”

You watched helplessly as he struggled to drag the heavy bale across the dusty wooden loft, finally falling down with a thud after he managed to cover the door.

“We can wait here until we get a chance to escape.” He crawled his way over to sit beside you, still shaking but seemingly calmer than before.

He swallowed and took in heavy breaths, trying to process the last few hours in his mind as you silently begged whatever god that was willing would help you get out of this alive.

You could've practically jump for joy when the familiar sound of a idling chainsaw and heavy footsteps against the barn floor became apparent against the calming squeals of the pigs down below.

You could almost feel the man tense beside you as he started shaking his head, quietly pushing himself away from the bale of hay that covered the loft door.

“No, no, no, no...” He mumbled to himself quietly, covering his own mouth as he pressed himself into the old wall of the barn.

You looked to the floor, Tommy's footsteps slowly circling around the barn, and felt a firm grip on your arm as the man quietly pulled you back with him.

“Shhhh.” He pressed a finger to his lips and pulled out the revolver, looking back to the bale.

It was your turn to shake your head, lifting your hands as you spoke, “No, no, it's okay, don't--”

He slapped his hand over your mouth as the footsteps stopped.

Thomas looked up, to the loft.

He could've sworn he heard a woman's voice, even over the anxious pig's squeals.

He gripped the chainsaw tighter, confusion overcoming him.

The victim Hoyt sent him after was a man, so, did that mean there were two of them? Had Hoyt somehow overlooked an extra person? It wasn't completely uncommon for him to make such a mistake.

He stayed silent, listening. There were no more sounds now.

He took a step towards the ladder, noticing the mud marks leading in from the open back door, even against the ladder.

The chainsaw weighed heavy in his hands, send vibrations through his fingers as he readjusted it to hold it in one hand.

He grabbed the ladder with his now free hand, the ladder creaking loudly under his weight as he took a couple of steps up, positioning the chainsaw to press against the door.

It didn't budge, so he squeezed the trigger, the chainsaw revving up and cutting through the old wood with ease.

He pressed further, the spinning chain suddenly flinging wood chips and hay back at his face with enough force to actually leave some small scratches on his exposed cheekbones.

He ignored it and moved the chainsaw in different directions, cutting at the hay bale that was apparently left on top to deter him.

Within a few seconds he was able to use the base of the chainsaw to get enough leverage to sling what was left of the door open, the remaining hay flinging to the side with ease.

He pushed himself up, grabbing a hold of the side of the loft's floor to help him balance as he pulled himself up with enough force so he wouldn't get caught off-guard by the two victims undoubtedly waiting for him.

His chainsaw slammed on the loft floor, still rumbling in idle as he stepped into the loft, deep brown eyes darting to the man sitting across from him, to the gun pointed directly at him.

He ignored the threat as he stood up straight, chainsaw tight in his grip.

“Don't come any closer!” His voice was unsteady, his hands shaking.

He took a step.

“S-Stop!” He stuttered over himself, thumb slipping more than once as he pulled the hammer down.

Thomas listened this time, staring the man down.

“Drop the chainsaw.” The man ordered, “Now!” His voice cracked.

Thomas did as he was told, the chainsaw hitting the floor with a loud thud.

“O-Okay, now grab it!” Thomas could hear the floorboards creak as the second victim walked up behind him.

His hand flexed as the footsteps stopped.

He could use her, as leverage, even a shield. All she had to do was reach for it. The moment she did he could grab her.

His eyes darted right and he saw dirty, shaky hands grab the handle.

His hand shot out, catching her with force as he turned.

You screamed, out of surprise and pain as Thomas gripped your wrist with enough force to bruise it.

Confused eyes met yours as he stared, his strong hold loosening out of reflex.

“Let her go!” The man yelled from beside you two, still pointing the gun at your husband.

He did.

He pulled back, fear and hurt in his eyes as he tried to figure out why you were here.

You hated yourself as you picked the chainsaw up, heavy in your grip as you dragged it away from him.

You walked closer to the man, the chainsaw sending vibrations through your hands and to your arms, turning them to jelly. You were unfamiliar with handling the large tool, only ever using it once before when Thomas had taught you how.

The man hurried to stand, still pointing the gun at Thomas.

“H-Here.” You offered, pushing it out to him, “I don't even know how to use this thing, I'll end up hurting myself.”

The man nodded, falling for your lie, “Okay, then you take this,” He shoved the gun towards you, “I can handle that thing.”

You switched weapons, Hoyt's gun feeling much easier to handle in your hands.

It wasn't light, the weapon weighing heavy in your hands as you slammed the butt of it against the man's head, a few drops of blood splattering against your hands and face as he hit the floor.

You turned to Tommy, letting the gun hit the floor as you let out a heavy, shaking sigh.

“Thomas--” You stepped over the man's unconscious body, arms wide as you threw yourself at your husband.

He met you halfway and slung his thick arms around you, clinging to you as he crushed you against his body.

You choked on a sob as you buried your face in his neck, hot tears streaming down your face out of relief.

He pushed his masked cheek against your head, pressing a kiss to your mud caked hair, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to steady his breath.

He had been ridiculed, relentlessly beaten by bullies, threatened by coworkers, attacked by victims and almost killed dozens of times, but nothing compared to the fear he had when he saw you in that loft.

He couldn't understand why you were there. Had you randomly changed your mind and decided to leave him? After so long? Were you taken against your will, threatened and forced to do these things? Were you hurt, scared, afraid for your life while he was off doing what Hoyt told him to? What would've happened if he hadn't shown up? Did he scare you, or hurt you?

You pulled back just enough to place your hands on his cheeks, Thomas holding you up as you pulled him into a kiss.

You opened your mouth and he deepened the kiss, your hands snaking around his neck and trying to pull him even closer while teeth clashed and tongues fought to explore each other's mouths like teenagers sharing their first kiss.

You sighed through your nose, pressing your forehead to his as you pulled back to look at him.

“I'm so sorry.” You whispered, “I didn't think he'd be back so soon, I- I thought I had more time...”

His brown eyes were filled with fear and relief, feeling like he had almost lost you.

You cupped his masked cheek, letting your eyes flutter shut as you finally felt safe again.

It was a long time before Thomas let you out of his sight after that. He was glued to your side, overprotective and worried for months to come.

You often caught him staring at your deeply bruised wrist while it healed, angry and ashamed that he hurt you.

You constantly reassured him that you weren't angry at him, or scared that he'd do it again. He treated you like glass long after it healed, gentle and afraid, like you'd break into a million pieces if he didn't take extra care in his touches.

Needless to say, it took months before life went back to normal for you two, but after that, anytime any victims were expected, the first thing he did was safely tuck you away in your shared room before anything else.

#slasher fandom #slashers #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x s/o #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o #Jamie Writes

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

AAAGH I loved your sinner!Adam fic about him and Reader watching TV together 🥺

I heard you take sinner!Adam requests so is it okay to have a sort-of part 2? Maybe watching movies became a regular thing between them and one time they end up kissing during one? If you find it repetitive and don't want to it's totally okay, I understand! I hope you have a nice day and keep up with the good work 🥹

Oh I loved writing this. The fic below is a sequel to this ficlet

I do hope that you liked it. I'm always worried I've made him too ooc but Sinner!Adam is fanon based atm and if he is wanting redemption he would change his ways.

So Urm yeah enjoy. . . .

What we watching?? Sinner!Adam x GN!reader

Fluffy af

That night watching trashy romcoms with Adam could have just been a one off thing and you would’ve been fine with it. But when he approached you in the communal kitchens the next morning with a proposition to make ‘Thursday film night’ a regular thing between the two of you. You had asked him why. He said that hanging out with you yesterday was one of the most fun things he had done in a long time. You smiled fondly at him before agreeing.

-

As Thursday night rolled around again. You were looking forward to sharing some more of your favourite films with Adam. He’d said he would be there by 6ish. You glance at the time on your phone. It was only 6.05pm. He’s probably just running late after the one on one session with Charlie.

An easy way to keep your mind busy was dragging out all your blankets and making a sort of nest type thing on the floor by the couch. You used to do this with your family when you were alive. It just made the movie marathons all that more special. After seeing how far Adam had come since arriving at the hotel. You had really wanted to show him how much he meant to you.

‘Wait, as a friend.’ You stopped mid cushion grab. You liked him as only a friend right? Right?

Your door burst open and slammed shut very quickly Adam was only 45 minutes late, you looked up seeing him breathing hard, carting an armload of snacks, drinks and a few bowls of things.

“There you . . .” he shushes you looking frantically at the closed door. “What did you do?” You whisper as you crawl onto the couch.

A far off loud shouting could be heard in the silence. He waited a minute more before letting out a breath.

“It wasn’t my fault honest.” He looked extremely guilty. You quirked a brow wanting an explanation. “I was trying to make my super awesome dip for our movie night but I maaaaaay have made a really big mess but I didn’t mean to, I just tripped over that cleaner chick who was chasing more of them roaches. This hotel must have an infestation or she is breeding them just to kill. Oh wait, I’m getting off point, the thing is I might have made too much of the dip than I intended and I kinda launched half of it onto another patron. But it wasn’t my fault. This time at least.” He frantically spoke as he juggled the drinks and snacks about in his arms before depositing them carefully on the coffee table. Standing back up he turned and looked down at what you were making. “What’s that?” He points to the accumulated amount of cushions, blankets and other soft furnishings piled on the floor.

“Well, the thing is.” You hopped off the couch into the nest trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. How were you supposed to explain the reason behind it without him laughing at you? “You know what it’s stupid let me just . . .” You felt shame rush to your cheeks as you tried to dismantle the obviously stupid idea.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Looks comfy as fuck. Budge up would ya.” You hopped out as he set himself down in the dead center of the nest, keeping his legs open slightly to give you a place to sit. Last week he really liked having you snuggled up close to him, why did you think this week would be any different.

You chose the first movie and plopped yourself down in the space he left for you, his arms wrapping around your middle pulling you flush against his chest.

“So what we watching?”

-----

“I have a question do all of these movie have the same premise?” Adam asked after about 15 minutes into the third film.

“Whatdya mean?” You say through a mouthful of chips.

“Like . . hang on pause the film a sec.” He fumbles for the remote to stop the movie. You shuffle a bit to see him better. “Like don’t get me wrong they’re good films, a bit cliché but surely the lead woman knows that the ‘Oh I’m a famous something or other I have no time for a man’” his fake high pitched womanly voice had you laughing. “Hey shush let me finish my thought.”

“But you make such a good woman.” You poke at his chest playfully.

“Ah ha ha ha.” He grabs your hand in his. “But seriously shush. My point is are there any original ideas in these films?”

“You saying I got trash taste in cinema?” You try pulling your hand away from his grasp. Adam doesn’t let go but pulls you closer to him.

“What I’m saying is watching all these oblivious people who clearly have strong feelings for the other person, got me thinking.” He looks down at your hand in his. “Ya know what never mind let’s keep watching the movie.” He lets go of your hand and grabs for the remote, setting the film going again.

The whiplash from that conversation was enough to make your head spin. You stayed a second more simply looking into the face of a man who had something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to do so. As you turned back in his arms to watch the movie, you could hear a small sigh of relief.

You tried to go back to watching the movie but you couldn’t. Adam only held you loosely now, choosing to focus more on grabbing snacks and sipping his soda. Your mind went into overdrive.

‘What did you do wrong?’

‘Was he mad at you?’

‘Did he . . . wait did he like you?’

You almost choked on a piece of popcorn at the realisation. Adam liked you.

Daring to flick your eyes to look at him. He was focused on the film but the soft look of longing he bore was almost too much.

“Adam?” Your voice was gentle so as not to spook him.

“Mmmyeah?” He was still watching the screen.

You grabbed the remote and paused the TV again.

“Hey, it was getting to a good part.” He looked down at you annoyed. “What. Is there something on my face?” He touches his face trying to feel for any irregularity. “Hey, say something you’re freaking me. mmmf” You pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He froze against your lips.

‘Shit was I wrong?’

You move to pull away. But his hands cup your face pulling you back into a tender kiss that makes you melt into his touch. The kiss lasted no longer than 5 seconds but you didn’t care you felt like your entire body was floating.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He spoke softly as he broke the kiss. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes.” Your words were barely a whisper but it was all he needed to pull you back against him, he kissed you in such a tender way that made your heart flutter in your chest. You didn’t realise he was capable of such gentility but you craved more of it. Your hands carded into his hair, being careful of his horns, as one of his hands went to cradle the back of your head, effectively tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. His other hand moved to your lower back, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. The kiss had an undertone of heat laced in the movements of your joined lips.

You broke the kiss panting slightly, you noted his pupils were dilated slightly as you were sure yours mirrored back.

You had to slow this down now before you regretted anything.

“Adam.” Your voice low in warning. “As much as I enjoy kissing you. Can we take whatever this is a little slower?”

You expected him to whine or pout about being told no. but he just smiles goofily at you. Swiping a thumb over your lower lip.

“Sure thing.” He kisses your forehead before helping you settle back against him the way your were before. He picked up the remote “Ready to continue?”

You weaved your fingers with his other hand and nodded “Ready.”

--------

I hope this is what you wanted.

My ask box is still open if anyone else got requests

#jamie writes #callmerainman #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #prompt filled #my fic

[genderflu1dwh0r]

Okay, but Tori pretending to not realize that she is getting Jade all flustered. Tori loves when she gets to do it because it's Jade that she's fucking with. Tori needs to get something from a tall place and gets Jade to lift her, but Jade ends up an inch away from Tori's chest and she gets all flustered. Tori eventually gets set down and she sees Jade's face and ears are all red and she innocently asks what's wrong and Jade just tells her "You know exactly what's wrong." through gritted teeth.

#victorious #jade west #tori vega #jori #jamie writes

[marzst4rz]

Writing them be friends is the only thing that brings me joy.

#jamie writes #WOAH??? SINCE UH WHEN #remus lupin #dorcas meadowes #marauders era #the marauders

[blackwidowrising]

My new year's resolution is to finish at least one fic this year because my output has fucking cratered and i need to be able to close some tabs

#jamie jams #jamie writes