- if you have a sfw james wilson, bobby nash, fitzwilliam darcy, hawkeye pierce, robert chase, or steve rogers one shot you’d like me to read send it here with the title and the link for the fic embedded in it
if you’re white and wanna write a poc character and feel awkward about it i implore you to ignore any twitblr stuff treating it as a massive ethical burden and instead come in more with the same mindset you’d have if you wanted to write about idk firefighters but didn’t know anything about firefighters so you do... research. Like fuck off with the weird kinda creepy calls for spiritual introspection you’re not writing about god damn space aliens you’re writing about humans and if you think you need more perspective of different life experiences just read?
If I were writing about firefighters I'd also, in addition to just reading about them, take advantage of Our Blessed Internet to ask actual firefighters about how shit works. I'd do the same for a minority I'm not a part of.
I remember when there was this LiveJournal community where you could just ask about anything you needed for your novel - medicine, professions, vehicles, how things function in country X - and people who knew something about that would answer.
REQUEST – @heliads - hi monty!! saw you wanted some newt requests so i simply could not hold back. could i please request a newt x reader fic in which newt and reader are both track-hoes and obviously in love with each other but pining in silence? alby and minho are doing their best to get them together but they're both excruciatingly oblivious lmao. thank you so much!!
SUMMARY – you and an overly protective newt are in love. the only problem seems to be that everyone but you and him are aware of it.
WARNINGS – weird behavior, obliviousness, fluff, semi-crack?, friends to lovers, minor injury
WORD COUNT – 3,031
NOTES – AAAA this has been in my requests for forever and i’m just now writing it?? i absolutely loved writing this and a big big thanks to @shmaptainwrites for being my lovely beta reader!
There were very few downsides to being a Track-hoe. You enjoyed being outdoors all day, breathing in the fresh air and the amazing smell of fresh plants, chatting with your fellow track-hoes and generally enjoying yourself.
Prompt: “Just play along, please” inspired this multiple part fic, in which agent Galahad and Kay are on a mission together in the French Alps. Here, they have to pretend to be a couple, despite the two of them being rivals and Kay always wanting to beat him at everything.
Pairing: Harry Hart x Kingsman!Reader
Fandom: Kingsman
Tags/Warnings: fake dating, slowburn, rivals
Word count: 2347
Harry and you have been sent on a mission together. While most of it is supposed to be gathering intelligence, there is a high-risk of having to kill some criminals to make sure they can’t spread word of your existence any further. Tonight is the first evening at the ski resort. The trip in and of itself wasn’t too eventful, Merlin flew the two of you to the French Alps, where you were picked up by a car and brought to the chalet you’ll be staying in. It is quite cosy, but still comfortable. It has two small bedrooms with a queen sized bed, a nightstand and a closet. You would have to share the bathroom, but that was standard procedure when it came to these sorts of missions. While Harry takes the room on the right, you take the one on the left and start unpacking your luggage.
ok awesome :) could i please request a james wilson x fem!reader where reader is a young (of age) nurse or intern at the hospital and her and james have been seeing each other but not really labeled it, and she finds out she’s pregnant? maybe her and james are excited but someone at the hospital points out their age gap and james’ failed marriages and is just an asshole about it idk. feel free to write whatever you’d like! thank you so much <3
Warnings: pregnancy, age gap (reader is in her 20s, James would be in his 30s/40s), slight angst, divorce, people being assholes, Greg House being Greg House, there’s a little time jump: sorry not sorry.
Notes: you best believe I was quick to write this. I love me some James Wilson and he doesn’t get enough love. I had so much fun writing this pen.
You sat in silence, the test in front of you as you stared at it. Cuddy had sent you home because of how sick you had felt throughout the day. And it wasn’t getting better no matter how much you insisted. You had made sure to tell your James goodbye before you headed out to return to your apartment.
James said he would be at your place later that night, and you accepted this. He knew you hadn’t felt well, and only checked to see if you needed him to bring you anything; you didn’t.
You hadn’t voiced concerns to James about the possibility of being pregnant. When you’d first started getting close to him people made sure to inform you of his bad luck with relationships. He’d been divorced three times and his girlfriend before you had passed away in a horrible bus accident. Hospital staff continuously told you there would be no reason to have a relationship with James, this included his best friend: Greg House.
So far, you’d been grateful you didn’t listen to them.
You could hear the keys jingle in the door and only turned toward it to greet him. James walked in and the smell of takeout food was comforting, you hoped you could keep it down.
“Hi hon,” you called out, rising to your feet and grabbing the takeout bags. James insisted on keeping the bags until you leveled him with a playful glare that admittedly flustered him every time it was sent his direction. His feeble arguments failed and you took the bag with you to the table, setting it down and glancing over at the test, “I think I found out why I’ve been so sick.”
“Oh really?” James came up behind you, an arm wrapping around his waist as he took a glance at what you were staring at. His eyes went wide and a small smile formed on his face as he turned you to face him, “Oh honey, this is amazing!”
“Are you sure?” You questioned, laughing at his excitement and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Only Cuddy and House know about our relationship…”
“And that’s all that matters,” he reassured you, his lips gently meeting your own, “Let’s eat and head to bed, we can get you to a doctor and then tell Cuddy.”
You hummed, lowering you face to rest on his shoulders while he gently rubbed your back. You did just as James had suggested, and the next morning he had scheduled you an appointment. He made sure it wasn’t at the hospital you both worked at, knowing that the news would get out faster if that was the case.
James reluctantly went off to work, being Head of Oncology never rests, and you headed to the appointment on your own. You had a reason for why the father wasn’t there, and sat through your appointment in mostly silence.
Once you had your ultrasound pictures in hand you made your way back to the hospital. You checked in with Cuddy, then ventured to James’ office. You were already pulling the photos out when you saw Cameron, Taub, and Foreman standing in the room. You quickly slammed the pictures to your chest, eyes wide as you looked at James.
His eyes landed on the photos, then he gave a small nod, “I will handle House in a moment, could I please have a moment alone in my office?”
The team glanced toward you, but then filed out and left you in silence. Once you were certain they were far enough away, you walked to his desk and set the pictures on your desk. A smile spread across his face at the sight, and he lifted it up, “This is amazing.”
Time passed and to say the both of you were excited was an understatement. While you still hadn’t put a label onto your relationship, you two were still going to welcome a child into the world. James insisted on you moving in with him, and you jumped at the opportunity. Cuddy and House were the first to know, then House’s team, and then word slowly traveled by ear around the hospital.
You were sitting at the nurses station, trying to relax in between patients. You ran your hand over your small bump, glancing up as House limped in with a paper clip. Foreman and Chase were close behind him.
“Clinic hours?” You questioned. Greg hummed, bored and nodding as he continued past you and into a room. You stood and grabbed a stack of files to figure out which patients were his or not. Knowing that most nurses couldn’t tolerate House, you automatically fell into the position of being the nurse to help him.
“Still can’t believe you’re the girl who got Wilson to settle,” Foreman muttered. You raised a brow in confusion, “We all know how relationships go for him. Who says adding a baby into the mix will be any different?”
You were silent for a moment, pulling your hands away from the files and watching Foreman, “James and I have been perfectly fine, thank you.”
You returned to your tasks, but Chase wanted to add onto the doubts, “And what about the age difference? Everyone knows about it now. Doesn’t it concern you to be having a baby with someone who’s older than you?”
“What goes on in my relationship is my business,” you snapped, dropping the files to the counter and feeling the eyes of other nurses on you, “He is my partner, not yours. He is the father of my child, not yours. And that’s all that matters to me. I don’t care about our age difference or his past relationships. Why? Because I do love him, and unless you two want to be romantically involved with him I don’t see why you care about my relationship with James.”
You turned to the other nurses who watched you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry to dump this onto you, but could one of you help House for a moment? I need a moment.”
“Of course,”
Once you received your response you walked away from the nurses station, tears welling in your eyes. You forcefully wiped them away as you opened the door to James’s office. You knew he would be with patients, so you shut the door and moved to the couch in his room.
Sprawling into the sofa you stared at the ceiling while resting a hand on your stomach. You didn’t plan on dozing off, but it eventually happened at some point you were awoken by James gently shaking you awake.
“Cuddy sent me to find you,” he said softly, helping you sit up as he remained crouched in front of you, concern on his features, “Are you alright?”
“Are you worried about having a baby with someone…younger?”
He looked concerned, taking your hands and shaking his head, “Where is this coming from?”
“Everyone has been talking about it since news got out,” You murmured, already feeling your tears ready to fall. James’s brown eyes were filled with so much worry as he rubbed his hand on your knee, trying to comfort you, “You can’t expect me to believe you haven’t heard it.”
“Of course I have, from House himself,” James informed you, then he shrugged, “But I don’t care. We love each other and this baby, and that’s what matters to me. Your age is the least of my concerns, and so are past relationships.”
Your eyes met his own, and you gave a small smile as he reached up to cup your cheek, wiping tears away, “I hope our baby learns so much from you.”
He only chuckled while you leaned down and kissed him. You pulled away and his brown eyes watched you lovingly. He smiled, “Let’s go get you and little one some food.”
James stood and helped you to your feet, arms wrapped around your waist as you shared another brief kiss. You two walked beside one another to the cafeteria, and when you saw House and his team you froze slightly, but James being beside you kept you going.
You each grabbed your food, James making sure you got everything that was healthy for you and the baby, then joined House and the team. Chase watched you closely as you settled in a chair, fighting for comfort while James watched in silence. He was never one to take away your physical tasks, but would still silently fuss over you.
You began eating your lunch, but the team’s eyes didn’t leave you. You shared a glance with James and he remained silent, so you sat up straight, “Is there something you all need?”
“You’ve been crying,” House pointed out rather abruptly, “Either your hormonal or the reality of the father of your child has come crashing done on you.”
James heaved a sigh, dropping his fork and leveling a glare at House. You place your hand over his, silencing him so you could speak, “There is no reality to it. James is the man I love, we’re having a baby, and that’s that.”
Chase’s eyes widened briefly, and Foreman quickly returned to eating his food. House studied you for a moment, and you only watched in response, clenching your jaw and feeling James take your hand in his own.
You silently returned to your meal, and after a moment: James did as well. There was a smug look on his face that he was thankful you hadn’t noticed.
It was later that night, after you had both gone home, when you were changing into your pajamas. You were silent as James walked in, he tucked his hands in his pockets as he watched you for a moment.
“I don’t think Chase or Foreman will say something again, or House for that matter,”
You turned to him, gaze softening as you sat on the bed, “They can say what they want. I don’t care.”
With that you laid down on your side, turning off your lamp and waited in silence for James to join you.
"James, help!" Recognizing my wife's voice and the empty space next to me, I quickly got up, fearing the worse.
"Fuck, fuck! Where is it?" I whispered to myself as I searched through the closet looking for the baseball bat she had insisted on keeping 'just in case'. Finally finding it, I armed myself and ran out to the kitchen screaming. Not the smartest idea, but continuing to hear my wife's screams of fear I only had one thought: to scare the intruder. I reached the kitchen and swung blindly, still screaming and shouting only to be met with my wife's voice.
"What the hell are you doing?" I opened my eyes to see her standing on the counter, totally unharmed.
"I-I heard you screaming? I thought- I thought you were being hurt?" I asked as I tried to catch my breath, very confused with the situation. She looked at me like I was insane.
"Yeah, because of the spider!" She pointed to the floor. My eyes followed her finger to see the remains of a mug and a spider crawling around. My hands fell to my side, and I dropped the bat in disbelief.
"What?" I looked at her incredulously.
"Babe, kill the freaking spider!" She continued to point before shrieking when it started towards her. I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed before carefully kneeling beside the broken glass and picking it up.
“It’s only a daddy long leg. You know, I don’t think they’re even classified as spiders.” I picked it up and laughed, seeing how small it was. I started to walk closer to her to show her, but she screamed and pushed her back against the cupboard.
“James Evan Wilson! So help me! If you come any closer I-I…I’ll withhold sex for a month!” I stopped and frowned at her threat before looking back at the ‘spider’ struggling in my fingers.
“Sorry buddy. You heard the lady. It’s either you or me, and well…I’m sure there’s plenty of lady spiders outside.” I opened the sliding glass door and threw him out before coming back to my wife’s aide. “Will you come down now? As much as I enjoy looking up your dress, I don’t want you to get hurt.” I approached her as she nodded. I was careful to avoid the broken shards of glass on the floor.
Once I got to her side, I picked her up bridal style.
“My beautiful damsel in distress.” I rolled my eyes and kissed her cheek, and she snuggled closer.
“My handsome knight in plaid boxers.” She laid her hand on my cheek and stroked her thumb on my under eye. I smiled at her. She’s a handful, but she’s mine.
“You know usually the hero gets a reward for saving the princess…” I smirked at her.
“And what…reward…do you have in mind?” Her eyebrow raised even though she clearly knew what I had in mind. I kissed her as I took her out of the kitchen before wiggling my eyebrows at her suggestively. She laughed. "What about the broken mug?" I shrugged.
"We'll deal with it tomorrow."
"What if Sarah hurts herself?" We entered the bedroom.
"She's a cat, I'm sure she'll be fine." I said sarcastically while rolling my eyes, I could tell her worry was just a way of teasing me. I set her on her side of the bed before going over to my own. She smirked up at me.
"Alright, if you insist." She feigned disinterest. I smiled before jumping onto the bed and attacking her neck and face with my lips. We continued making out for a little as things got more heated until Sarah jumped up onto the bed and tried to wiggle between us. Suddenly, she pulled back. I tried to capture her lips again, but she put her hand on my chest. "As much as I love you and enjoy this babe, I'm not doing 'it' in front of the cat." I frowned, looking at the cat, who was now curled up on the bed sleeping.
"I can kick her out." I said a little too desperately. She shook her head.
"It’s like two in the morning. You have to get up for work tomorrow, sweetheart." She said before leaning over and kissing me. "Goodnight. I love you." And with that, she laid down and went to bed. I groaned and glared at Sarah.
"Damn cat." I mumbled before laying down and turning to my side. I was still calming down when I felt an arm wrap around me. I smiled.
I suppose this was nice, too.
Author's Note: I'm working on the requests! This was just a small/easy idea I had in my notes that I thought I could publish as a filler.
Also, is this any good, or is it like weird? idk I'm always worried when I write in his pov, and the entire thing is in it.
P.S.
When writing this, I imagined the mug to be one that House got them for their wedding that just has his face on it. I don't know. OH! And when he ran out with the bat, he was in his McGill sweatshirt and plaid boxers with white socks. Again, just the image I had when writing, lol.
Hi, so first off, love your user. Big fan of murdoch mysteries, and I feel like no one watches it, lol.
Anyways, if you're still up for reading fics, I have a James Wilson fic. You obviously don't have to read it. I'm new to writing for him, and It's my first one that is based on an idea of my own (not a request), and I just can't tell if it's any good.
Please don't feel obligated to like it, read it, or even interact with this. This is purely just me 'shooting my shot' for lack of a better phrasing.
Anyways, if you want to:
Knight in Plaid Boxers - https://www.tumblr.com/dearestro/746250639075573760/knight-in-plaid-boxers?source=share
I swear there's no smut. You might say there's like...innuendos if that makes sense? I don't know. If you do look at it and feel uncomfortable/find it to be nsfw, I am so incredibly sorry.
oh my goodness this is the first time someone’s come in here with a rec for me i’m so excited to read it!
and so cool that you watch murdoch too lol i also feel like barely anyone watches it 😂
i’m also a new to writing james (like since january) but if you’d like specific feedback from what i can offer i’d be more than happy to give it i just don’t want to offer advice if that’s not what you’re looking for
and here’s the link for anyone else who wants to read!
Being with James Wilson was like being with the personified version of a cloud. His hugs were comforting, his aura was soothing. And seeing him was like seeing everything you had ever wanted in life.
Falling in love with James Wilson was like eating cotton candy. First it’s fluffy and sweet, then it melts and you’re left with a rotting tooth ache. That was exactly what your relationship had been like.
I absolutely love love love the way you write!! I was wondering if you could write a Hotch x reader where their relationship is pretty new and reader gets unexpectedly pregnant and is worried about telling Hotch since they haven't talked about having kids and it's just a lot of fluff when Hotch finds out ! Thank you :) <3
ty for requesting!!
hotch receives some unexpected news, but he loves you, and he’s happy to prove it. pregnant!reader, 1.5k
Oh fuck, you think, pins and needles in your hands you can’t shake. Oh, fuck.
Aaron’s car pulls into the parking lot outside of the doctor’s office, fifty metres away, forty, less. You have about twenty seconds to think of what to tell him, and to conjure a lie he’ll believe. You’re a bad liar when it comes to him.
You’ve thought of him fondly as a human lie detector since you met, apparently because you’ve never needed to lie to him before. As soon as you open the passenger door, he’s concerned. You hadn’t allowed him time to get out first.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning.
“Can you give me a few minutes to think about it?” you ask.
He clears his expression quickly, which would be impressive if you weren’t nauseous beyond words. “Sure.” His eyes soften. “I missed you.”
He’s been away for a few days, and you'd thought it was great timing for him to come home just after your appointment, but now you’re not so sure. Regardless, he leans across the console and kisses the corner of your lips.
You lean down under his touch. The pins and needles fade ever so slightly.
Aaron looks good, you realise, despite the racing heart in your chest. It’s funny how you can think of two things at once, how you can struggle to put together what you have to tell him, and still acknowledge how sharply handsome he looks in his suit and tie. He must’ve been in the office before he picked you up.
“I missed you too,” you say finally. “Really.”
He squeezes your arm.
Aaron turns onto the road out of the doctor’s office lot, past sparse greenery and into the city street that will lead to his apartment. “Is my place okay, or do you need to go home?”
You aren’t sure. What if he doesn’t even want you there when you tell him? Panic flits through you and, evidently, across your face —Aaron catches it from a sideways glance and takes the first left into a quieter street. He parks as soon as he can.
“What’s wrong, honey? You look like you’re waiting for me to yell at you,” he says. His brows pinch, eyes dark as always but not without tenderness as he turns in his seat towards you.
contents: angst & fluff— happy ending, canon typical violence, blood, gore, ptsd, depression, feelings of hopelessness, friends to lovers, kissing
wc: 2,419
an: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now bc of nerves, but always wanted to write Santi with a black love interest. planning to dip my toe into that pool more in the future 🥰
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here like this. It could be minutes, hours, even days. In these four walls beneath the shower’s spray, there is nothing that matters. Not even you, not anymore. And while you’re usually the first to be cheery, to tell each of the guys that the work they do— the work you all do together— doesn’t compromise the goodness you see in their hearts, you’re having a hard time believing that right now.
bestie i don’t even know what fandom this is for but it fucking HITS
you drew me in with the black!reader and now i’m hooked 🫠 the emotions the connection the EMOTIONS im so smitten rn and i DONT EVEN KNOW WHO THIS MAN IS
Texting bf's dad hotch by accident when you're drunk and trying to get your bf to pick you up...
this idea >>>>
also aaron has another son besides jack in this
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
They were just a few margaritas. You didn’t expect a casual girl’s night to turn into a pounding headache and a room that was spinning around you.
It was fun and your friends wanted to stay longer, but your upset stomach would not let you enjoy the rest of your night. You were more than ready to get out of there.
“I’m gonna ask my boyfriend to come pick me up,” you told your friends, who seemed a bit too drunk to process your words.
As carefully as you could, you made your way outside the bar, and took your phone out of your purse. Going through your contacts you stopped when you spotted your boyfriend’s name.
‘Babe can you come and pick me up? I can’t drive’
You hit send, and right after, you shared your location with him.
SUMMARY: Wilson sprains his ankle, and you get to take care of him.
WARNINGS: minor injury (a sprained ankle)
WORD COUNT: 1217
The sound of faint laughter and televisions echoing through the hallways of your building made you feel at ease. It had been a long day, and to say you were relieved to finally be home was an understatement. You reciprocated James’ warm smile as you walked through the door he was holding open to your condo complex.
"Oh, do we need to check the mailbox?" you asked him, in a half-whisper. He shook his head, and you ascended the well-worn staircase leading to your cozy condo, with James trailing just a step behind.
“Anyway, like I was saying, I think it gets too much hate. It was a fun movie,” you exclaimed, continuing up the stairs. James responded with a disapproving shake of his head.
“Agree to disagree,” he retorted playfully.
You sighed. “I’m never going to be able to convince you otherwise, am I?”
“Not a chance,” he replied, allowing his gaze to momentarily linger from the stairs to admire your presence. “And I’m never going to forgive them for what they did to–”
Suddenly, a resonant thud echoed behind you, followed by a pained groan. You gasped, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth.
“Oh– James, are you okay?”
He groaned in pain. Your heart pounded as you leaned your bag against the post at the top of the staircase before you rushed to help him.
“Here, let me help you up,” you offered, placing his arm around your shoulders and assisting him back onto his feet. He winced as his injured foot touched the ground, and you gripped the handrail tightly as you bore his weight.
"These damn stairs,” James muttered, “I really should learn to be more careful.”
"It happens to the best of us,” you reassured him, sympathetically. “Let’s get you inside and sit you down, then we can take a look at it.”
You left him waiting at the top of the stairs as you descended again to retrieve his briefcase.
“Thanks,” he said softly, smiling fondly at you as you picked up your own bag and helped him limp to the door to his condo. Once inside, you eased him onto the sofa.
Sitting across from him on a cushioned footstool, you looked at him expectantly as he carefully examined his injury for a few minutes. You were comforted by the familiar impression of intense focus on his face; you’d seen it in his eyes doing everything from the New York Times crossword puzzle to diagnosing his cancer patients. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain when the radiator's subtle hum, unnoticed until then, ceased, leaving behind a quiet void in your condo. After a few more minutes, the weight of the silence finally became unbearably uncomfortable, and you asked:
“So… what is it?”
“Well,” he sighed, looking up at you, “I don’t think it’s broken. It feels like it’s just a sprain. Some ice, compression, rest… and I should be fully healed in a few weeks,” he said, before lifting himself onto his feet. You got up from your seat and stopped him before he could make another move.
“Okay, but the acronym is RICE. Which, if I remember correctly, means the the first rule of healing a sprained ankle… is to rest,” you pointed out, matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, but the next one is ice. I’m going to get ice before I res–”
“Hey,” you said, looking at him with feigned sternness. His eternally pleading eyes made it so hard to get genuinely angry with him. You placed your hand on his chest and lightly coaxed him back down onto the sofa. He pursed his lips and obliged, never breaking eye contact.
“I know you’re a fancy doctor and everything but just… let me take care of you, okay? Relax, I’ll get you what you need,” you said, softening your tone and tenderly stroking his face with your thumb. You sealed your sentiment with a gentle kiss on his cheek before heading to the kitchen to get ice. James’ gaze softened and he smiled as he watched you make your way to the freezer before he picked up the nearest magazine. He swiveled on the sofa to lay back and let his injured foot rest on the armrest.
When you returned with some ice wrapped in a towel and a compression wrap, you found James nodded off with his magazine open on his stomach. You lightened your footsteps as you approached him to avoid disturbing him, a gentle smile creeping onto your face. Kneeling on the floor by his head, you cupped his face with your hand and gingerly stroked his cheek, then lightly ran your fingers through his soft curls, stirring him awake.
“Hmm?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Your fingers tingled as you felt him melt under your touch. “I got some ice and a bandage. For compression, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. You got up off the ground, pulled the footstool over to the sofa’s armrest, and applied the ice to his ankle. He lifted his head just barely enough to see what you were doing. There was a subtle glint of worry in his eye, and you reassured him it was going to be okay.
“You can go back to sleep, you know,” you whispered. James let his head fall backwards and stared blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander, first shuffling through his list of dying patients, then to plotting how he was going to get back at House for that stupid prank he had pulled on him earlier, then to how he forgot to ask Cuddyabout the budget for new equipment for the oncology department, and finally back to you. Every aspect of his job as an oncologist dictated that he was to be a caretaker, and to have someone take care of him was overwhelming, in a good way. As a generally independent person, he wasn’t used to being shown this level of compassion. He felt his heart grow warm thinking about how lucky he was to have you looking after him, how good you were to him, and how much he loved you.
“All done,” you whispered, satisfied with your work. Wilson once again looked up at his now-bandaged foot, then at you. His movement startled you briefly, as you assumed he had gone back to sleep like you had suggested. “Woah, I thought you were asleep? I was just about to go get a sticker for you, you were very well behaved,” you grinned.
He rolled his eyes playfully and unsuccessfuly tried to suppress a smile. “That’s a solid wrapping job, perfect even.” he approved. Your eyes sparkled with pride, and he instantly felt a familiar warm, fuzzy sensation coursing through him. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, you planted a tender kiss on his lips that left him feeling entirely flushed, and as you were about to walk away, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in for another kiss, this time more passionate.
“Mmm… just what the doctor ordered.” His warm breath lingered against your skin, and his expression turned more serious as he looked into your eyes. “I love you, you know,” he confessed, earnestly.
There could be a lot of things wrong with the man in front of you right now. He certainly is much stronger than you, possibly faster. Usually, running into a person on these trails— especially a man— would make you bolt back the way you came. You come here for solitude, are always hopeful for safety. But, there’s something about him that’s different.
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