watched Jurassic World: Rebirth last night and knew I had to write something for this man
Reader is a dinosaur researcher, studying their behavior (similar to Darius in Jurassic World: Chaos Theory & Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous)
If you're as passionate about dinosaurs as this man is, you're perfect for him
Telling you dinosaur facts is Henry's way of flirting
He likes treating you to a home cooked dinner
Dates primarily include watching dinosaur documentaries, going on a drive, hiking, reading books, or going to the movies
You two got the public interested in dinosaurs again by publishing books, papers, and documentaries on their behaviors
Loomis is very intelligent, emotionally and educationally, so he knows when something is wrong with you, and is there for you
You two sometimes curl up on the couch together and read to each other, or cuddle into each other and read separate books
Henry gets flustered easily, so any flirting or compliments you throw towards him are going to leave him a mess
He sometimes takes you on expeditions with him (if he's allowed to)
He prefers swimming and boating in freshwater because of his experiences, expect this man not to go more than knee deep in any form of saltwater
Loomis is hopelessly in love with you, he 100% fell first
His nicknames for you are primarily dinosaur related, as are yours (you also call him 'Romeo', 'loverboy', and, teasingly, 'pathetic')
You two are advocates for available and affordable healthcare
He would love any pets you have
Henry remained friends with Kincaid, Zora, and the Delgado family, so you've met them and are friends with them too (and you two sometimes tag along on boating trips and road trips with the Delgado family)
CREDIT FOR DIVIDER: @thecutestgrotto
Personally I really liked the movie, although I can see why people hate it. I watch low budget horror films for fun, anything people say about the movie will not sway me. 10/10 movie imo.
Although the script portrayed him as not smart because of the incorrect dino facts, I'm pretty sure he'd be a smart and capable guy in the JW universe.
When people think about the time stream entanglement collapsing, most don't also think about meeting a new romantic partner alongside it. You guys just got lucky.
There are many chances within the lore for the two of you to have met. Within the Collectors museum, Klyntar, K'un-Lun, Wakanda, take your pick. Either way, she's more than head over heels for you.
For an empath, she's very trusting, and her gorgeous face and the way she smiles at you doesn't help. It's easy to feel comfortable around her, and she could say the same for you.
A rhythm develops quickly between the two of you, one where you both watch and take care of the other. No matter what your role would be in the fight, she's by your side to help, and she doesn't need to look to know you're doing the same.
That being said, it's very obvious she has a crush on you. Her boosts always go towards you first in battle, she's always checking on you afterwards for injury, during resting periods she's resting herself against your side as an impromptu pillow.
The way she allows herself to be vulnerable with you in a way she doesn't even show the Guardian's very often. It almost makes them jealous.
Poking around feelings is not what she does, and she's always in tune with how she's feeling. She knows she loves you, and she hopes you return the feelings.
Confession is the next step after acknowledging her feelings, obviously. So here she is, with you, wherever in the universe you find yourselves next. Her hand tenderly on yours, a blush in her face as she tries to find the right words.
Man, talking about her feelings has never been so difficult before. Why do you make her so nervous? Her heart feels like it's about to jump right out of her and fall onto your lap.
Eventually, she word vomits it all out, and she's never been so nervous in her life. She's always been so sure of things.
Luckily, she doesn't have to feel anxious for long, because you're taking her hands in yours and reciprocating the feelings. It's a moment that will stay in her memory forever. Everything you said, the way you looked, even the smells of the surrounding area. If it were a scene in a show, flowers would be blooming behind you from her point of view.
And thus starts a romantic relationship with Mantis. She does her best to make the most of the situation, so what if the universe is collapsing? Let's go on a picnic, okay?
She loves taking you out, showing you things. Especially if it's nature. She always picks a flower or leaf up from off the ground and offers it to you as a token of her affections, it's adorable. And yes, you will be keeping every one and hanging them to dry and preserve.
It's a nice relationship, a good relationship. Communication is easy, even without her empathic powers. Issues that may arise are taken care of, and even if that wasn't the case both of you know a fight won't be what breaks you up.
And of course, the Guardians welcome you into their team as an honorary member- after Rocket interrogates and threatens you a little, it's his way of caring for Mantis. You get a cute little patch that probably matches everyone else somewhere, and Mantis lets you crash in her bunk on the Milano.
ship: clark kent x f! reader (reader insert) (established relationship)
cw: (mature audience nsfw 18+) suggestive content, sexual tension, mild smut, kissing, touching, and implied escalation
wc: 2.3k
now playing: underneath the tree by kelly clarkson
(coloring and edits done by me, pic creds to pinterest)
the apartment looked different at night. not because anything had changed the furniture was the same. the windows still framed the same city, but because december softened everything. lights blurred the sharp edges. shadows lingered longer.
the world outside felt quieter, like it had agreed to give you this moment. the christmas tree stood in the corner, tall and full, branches heavy with ornaments you’d collected over the years. some were mismatched.
some sentimental. some a little tacky. all of them yours. and beneath it stood clark. he’d rolled his sleeves up without thinking, sweater pushed back just enough to reveal his forearms, and you watched the way his hands moved as he adjusted one of the lower ornaments.
careful and deliberate. like he understood how easily things could break. he always did.you leaned against the doorway for a moment, arms folded loosely, just watching him exist in your space.
the sight of him there, so solid, so real, made something warm bloom in your chest. "you know i can hear you staring." he said, voice gentle, amused. you smiled. "i’m not being loud."
he turned then, smile already there, eyes catching the light from the tree. "you don’t have to be." that did something to you. it always did the reminder that he noticed everything. not in a way that felt invasive, but attentive.
like you mattered enough to be observed. you crossed the room, socks brushing softly against the rug. "you look like you belong under a tree." he laughed quietly. "is that a compliment?" your smile tugged across your lips, "very much so."
he reached for you when you got close, fingers curling around your wrist with easy familiarity. he tugged you in until you were flush against him, your back to his chest, his arms settling around your waist like muscle memory.
warmth radiated from him. steady. grounding. the tree lights framed you both, reflecting in the windows, casting soft gold across the room. his chin rested near your temple, breath warm against your hair.
for a while, neither of you spoke. it wasn’t awkward. it never was. silence with clark felt intentional, like a shared understanding instead of an absence. his thumb moved first, tracing slow circles against your side.
the touch was absentminded at first, soothing until it wasn’t. until awareness crept in, sharp and electric, threading itself through your nerves.
you shifted slightly, leaning back into him without thinking. his breath changed. you felt it before you heard it, the subtle inhale, the way his chest expanded behind you. his arm tightened just a little, not to pull you closer but to anchor himself.
"comfortable?" he asked softly. "yeah..." you said. "just warm." he smiled against your hair. "me too." except you both knew it wasn’t just warmth. your heart began to pick up, betraying you.
you could feel it in your chest, your throat, a fluttering urgency that had nothing to do with the temperature. clark stilled. it was barely noticeable, but you knew him well enough to feel the pause.
his thumb stopped moving. his breath evened out, too deliberately. "hey." he murmured. "you okay?" you nodded, though your pulse only quickened. "yeah. i’m fine." his arm tightened again, protective rather than possessive.
his hand slid from your waist to rest flat against your stomach, fingers splayed like he was grounding both of you at once. "your heart’s racing." he said quietly. heat pooled low in your belly. "it does that..." you replied, trying for casual and failing just a little.
he huffed a soft laugh. "only around me, apparently." you turned in his arms then, slow and deliberate, until you were facing him. his hands settled naturally at your hips, thumbs pressing lightly like he needed the contact as much as you did.
the tree loomed behind him, lights haloing his hair, casting his features in something almost reverent. it made him look unreal, like a memory instead of a man. you smoothed a hand over his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath the sweater.
"you’re trouble." his brows lifted. "i thought i was well-behaved?" you smirked. "you are." you said. "that’s the problem."something darkened in his eyes then, not sharp, not aggressive, just deep. focused. devoted in a way that always made your knees feel weak. he leaned in until your foreheads touched, breath mingling.
"i’ve been trying very hard not to rush anything tonight." you blinked. "why?" you asked softly. "because i like this." he said. "the quiet. the build-up. the way you look at me when you think i’m not paying attention."
your heart betrayed you again. his lips brushed your temple. once, barely there, before trailing down to your cheek. every nerve ending seemed to light up where he touched you. "clark." you whispered. he hummed in response, mouth lingering near yours.
"tell me if you want me to stop." you didn’t, you couldn't. so when his lips finally met yours, it was unhurried. a slow, testing kiss that deepened gradually, like he was savoring the moment rather than chasing it. his hands stayed firm at your hips, grounding, steady. like he was holding himself back even as he leaned into you.
you sighed softly into the kiss, fingers curling into his sweater. he responded immediately, pulling you closer, the kiss growing warmer, fuller, until the world narrowed to the two of you and the soft glow of christmas lights.
when he pulled back, it was only to rest his forehead against yours again. "merry christmas." he murmured. you smiled, breathless. "merry christmas, clark." his hands guided you down gently, lowering both of you to the floor beneath the tree. the rug was warm beneath your knees, the lights above you flickering softly as you settled back against the couch.
he hovered for a moment, giving you time, always giving you time before following you down.one arm braced beside your head, the other still at your waist. "you look beautiful like this." he said quietly.
you reached up, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "you always say that." he smiles, it's soft and gentle."because it’s always true." he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper. like he had all night and nowhere else to be.
his hand slid from your waist to your thigh, squeezing gently, a silent question. you answered by pulling him closer. his breath hitched. just once, before he pressed a kiss to your neck, then another, lingering like he was memorizing you.
his restraint was palpable, the kind that only made the tension sweeter. outside, the city continued on, unaware. inside, time seemed to fold in on itself. when his forehead rested against yours again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "we can stay here as long as you want."
you smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. "i don’t think i’m going anywhere." his answering grin was soft, content, like that was all he needed to hear. beneath the tree, wrapped in warmth and light and the promise of the night stretching ahead of you.
clark held you like you were exactly where you belonged and for the first time all evening, the world felt perfectly still.
the stillness didn’t last long, clark’s thumb began to move again. slow at first, tracing the curve of your hip like he was testing his own restraint. his other hand followed, warm and solid, settling at your lower back. the touch was grounding and undoing all at once.
you tilted your head up, inviting him without words. he didn’t hesitate this time. his mouth found yours with a quiet urgency that hadn’t been there before. not rushed, but hungry in a way that made your breath stutter. the kiss deepened immediately, his lips moving against yours like he’d been thinking about this all night.
you made a soft sound without meaning to. clark froze for half a second, like the noise had gone straight through him. then his hand tightened at your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left to wonder about.
"okay..." he breathed against your mouth, voice low. "okay." his kisses turned slower but heavier, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel weak before shifting again. his thumb brushed under your jaw, tilting your face just right, like he needed to feel every angle of you.
your fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently. he groaned. quiet, controlled, but unmistakable, and the sound sent a spark straight through you. his forehead dropped to yours for a moment, eyes closed, breath uneven.
"you’re making this very hard." he murmured. you smiled, breathless. "i thought you liked a challenge?" his answering smile was crooked, dangerous. "i like you." that was all the warning you got before his mouth found your neck.
he kissed you there slowly, deliberately, like he was savoring the way your breath caught, the way your pulse jumped beneath his lips. his hand slid down your side, fingers pressing in just enough to make you arch into him without thinking.
"clark." you whispered, half plea, half his name falling apart in your mouth. he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark, focused entirely on you. "tell me if i need to stop." you shook your head, fingers tightening in his sweater. "don’t."
something in his expression shifted. not control breaking, but choosing to let go. his mouth crashed back into yours, deeper now, the kiss turning heated and messy in the best way. his hand slid to your thigh, squeezing, anchoring you as he kissed you like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.
the christmas lights flickered above you, the ornaments chiming softly as his knee nudged between yours. the closeness was dizzying, the tension sharp and unmistakable. his breathing was uneven now, chest rising and falling beneath your palms.
he rested his forehead against yours again, eyes closed, like he was steadying himself.
"if we stay here..." he said quietly, voice rough, "i’m not sure i’ll keep being good." your heart raced, loud enough you knew he could hear it. you smiled up at him, thumb brushing along his jaw. "then maybe we shouldn’t stay here." you dared, fingers gentle on his skin.
his eyes opened slowly, meeting yours. a beat passed. then he leaned in, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips. slow, promising, full of intent, before murmuring the words that made your stomach flip.
"let’s go to the bedroom." he insisted, his lips hungry and his hands along your back, pushing off your own clothes. your teeth clashing at the hunger of need and want. "clark, please." you whispered, his arms stretched out and lifted you with ease down the hallway. the door clicking shut before it was a silent night of heavy pants and pleas.
an: this was supposed to be posted earlier, but i had to rewrite it ✨ happy day 16 of kinkmas, loves! hope you enjoy this cozy, festive mess of feelings under the tree 💖
Description: Sarah Strong starts dating a USC player who just so happens to be related to JuJu Watkins—which makes everything way harder when they try to keep it secret… especially when JuJu is very observant.
It starts because it has to.
Not because they don’t want people to know—
but because they don’t want everything else to get loud too fast.
Too many cameras.
Too many opinions.
Too many questions.
So they don’t say it out loud.
They just become careful.
Sarah learns what it means to love someone quietly.
Hallway touches that last half a second too long.
Sitting closer than necessary when no one’s watching.
Passing looks across gym floors that say more than words ever could.
And you—
you get good at pretending it’s nothing.
Except JuJu notices.
Of course she does.
One night after a game, you’re leaning against the tunnel wall when JuJu stops in front of you.
“Are you serious right now?”
You blink.
“What?”
She gestures vaguely behind her.
“Her?”
Sarah, across the room, laughing.
You sigh.
“It’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me,” JuJu says, softer now.
And suddenly it feels like the secret is way too small to hide inside anymore.
Later, Sarah finds you outside.
Quiet.
You think she’s mad.
But she’s just tired.
“You okay?” she asks.
You shrug.
“I don’t know.”
That honesty hits her harder than anything else.
She steps closer.
“Do you want this to stop?”
You shake your head immediately.
“No.”
Sarah nods.
“Me neither.”
A pause.
Then:
“…we just have to be smarter.”
You laugh a little.
“Yeah.”
But neither of you moves away.
And that’s the problem.
Because even being careful doesn’t stop the fact that you’re already in too deep.
CW: death mention, fem!reader, slight use of y/n, implied sex, alcohol usage, some fluff
18+ only, no minors!
(i don't give a good goddamn if the sex is only implied, scram)
All you wanted was one Christmas away from Hawkins and its many ghosts...including your best friend. When sudden events leave you and Nancy snowed in together, the past comes back to haunt you.
And maybe it's the greatest gift you could've been given.
You’d saved up for the past year to afford to pay your share of the cabin the gang was renting over Christmas. One weekend in the Smoky Mountains – it wasn’t the height of luxury, but it was six hours from Hawkins. After the year you’d all had, you needed the escape.
Just you, Nancy, Robin, Vickie, and Steve – one big dysfunctional family. That’s what you thought you signed up for, so it pissed you off when everyone but Nancy bailed. Steve had some Dustin emergency to tend to, and Robin didn’t want to leave him to deal with it by himself. And, of course, Vickie went everywhere Robin did.
"It's supposed to snow pretty heavy, too," they'd said.
“Isn’t the entire point of this trip to get away from the drama and neverending horrors?" you huffed, slinging your duffel bag in Nancy’s station wagon. "And who doesn't want to see snow on Christmas?” You didn’t care if there was a fucking blizzard; you would rather be stuck in the mountains than around the dinner table with people trying to pretend everything was normal. Or worse – breaking down like Joyce did over Bob, sobbing into the mashed potatoes.
Nancy was quiet, loading the car with far more suitcases than was necessary. She pursed her lips, and her brow furrowed like it always did when she was trying to find the words to say something difficult.
“It’s just that… Well, Dustin was hit harder than anyone by this, and he doesn’t have another adult male figure in his life,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.”
Shit.
“Nance,” you said, sliding into the passenger seat, “it’s not that I don’t care about the kid. I just wish–” Your eyes stung with unshed tears. “I wish he’d stop haunting me.” Eddie was your best friend, and no one could stop talking about what a hero he was. The same town that formed a witch hunt against him, the fucking reason he died, was now insisting he was a saint. He would’ve laughed in their faces.
Nancy didn’t say another word about it, but she did give your leg a comforting squeeze before backing out of the driveway. The warmth from her fingers on your thigh lingered long after she’d taken her hand away.
The cabin was warm, cozy, and more spacious than you expected. The glow of the flames in the fireplace made the pine paneled walls shine, and the mountains themselves were picturesque. You weren’t the type of person who tended to stare in awe of nature, but Nancy was. You found yourself watching her instead. A grin lit up her face when you stood on the balcony together and looked out over the horizon.
“I’m glad we still decided to come,” she murmured, her delicate fingers clutching the railing. “I hope I remembered to pack the camera.” While she rushed inside to rummage around in one of her many pieces of luggage, you allowed yourself a moment of weakness. A couple of tears slipped down your cheek and you wiped them away hastily. The chill December air bit into your damp skin and brought you back to the present, just in time for her to saunter back out.
“Smile!” Nancy said, clicking the shutter on her Polaroid camera before you could react. She couldn’t help but crack up when the photo developed and revealed you standing there in front of that gorgeous view, scowling. She recreated it – tried, anyway. Just before you snapped the picture, she burst into peals of laughter. The contrast was ridiculous. One deadpan, the other laughing so hard she was blurry. The corners of your mouth twitched up into what almost passed for a smirk; she was impressed.
“Well, well – looks like the infamous (y/n) isn’t unbreakable after all.” That earned her another scathing look but you didn’t really mean it. You just knew that if you did anything else, you might confide in her that you’d already been broken for a while.
“C’mon, Nance, don’t waste any more film on me.” You headed inside before she could argue.
Although the two of you made a valiant effort at small talk, you eventually ran out of things to say. Nancy brought board games, which might’ve been a real icebreaker, but none of them were meant for two. Nothing on this trip was. The cabin slept six people and the walls seemed to echo in a lonely way. It’s not that you two had never spoken in depth about anything before, but you’d never been alone together. It created a funny sort of tension you couldn’t shake.
She busied herself with unpacking her things in the bedroom closest to the den while you searched through the tapes stacked next to the stereo. Most of them were lame, but Nancy loved sappy romantic ballads even though she pretended not to. You decided on some compilation, a mixtape titled “Honeymooners.”
Gods above. Could it get any cornier?
You shook your head and smiled before popping it in. When you turned back around, Nancy was watching from the doorway. Both of you turned away at the same time.
“I was just–”
“Yeah, music is a good–”
The dam broke, and you laughed for the first time in months. It surprised you and you choked on your own breath, earning more giggles from Nancy. Suddenly, the cabin didn’t feel quite as empty as it had when you arrived.
You watched a movie together after dinner – It’s A Wonderful Life. Nancy was watching with a thoughtful look on her face; you were just trying to make it through without thinking of Eddie too much. It’s not that he’d have liked the movie – he would’ve gagged at the mere thought of sitting through it. But it got to you when the guy’s guardian angel showed him how much worse life would be for everyone without him.
“Hey. We can turn it off if you want,” Nancy said softly. You didn’t realize she’d been watching you, that she’d notice anything was off even if she looked. When you didn’t respond, she pressed the power button and stood up, smoothing down her pajamas like she was headed somewhere important. That was her – polished and pretty no matter what. During the battle against Vecna, she was the only one still wearing makeup.
“C’mon, let’s see if it’s snowing yet.” She reached for your hand; you hesitated. “I don’t bite.” She flashed that perfect smile again and it was like gravity, pulling you into her orbit. You reached out.
Just as your fingers touched, the lights flickered. Your hands clasped tightly; Nancy was shaking. Someone else may not have known. Someone from her college would probably think she was just afraid of the dark…but you knew. You remembered the way the lights flickered and burst all over town just before the rift opened in the ground and swallowed people up like a monstrous maw. The electricity going haywire meant one thing in Hawkins – evil was near.
“Hey, it’s probably just the weather,” you whispered, squeezing her hand gently. Your words soothed her, and her fingers were steadier laced with yours. She nodded and took a deep breath.
“Right. It has to be. It has to.” You knew she was trying hard to convince herself. In truth, you had to see it for yourself to keep your own rising panic at bay. Hand in hand, you made your way to the window.
Nancy breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the fluffy white flakes drifting down. It must have been happening for a while; the balcony was already blanketed with a thick layer of snow.
“Shit.” There was a new sort of danger to contend with. Mother Nature wasn’t Vecna; She was a lot scarier. “Do you think we’ll get trapped here?” you asked. Nancy’s brow creased again and she chewed on her lip, a nervous habit.
“If we do, at least we have plenty of food and wood for the fire.” Her features smoothed back out and she perked up. There was an undercurrent of anxiety she couldn’t hide, though. You were both still spooked and jumpy. Someone had to break the spell.
Her cheeks were flushed pink from the wine you brought and the heat of the fireplace, and you could see hints of copper in her hair you’d never noticed before. The power died about two hours before, only a few minutes after the flickering began.
“So, (y/n),” Nancy started. “Truth or dare?”
“Um, dare.” The truth was the last thing you wanted to talk about. It would spoil the moment. “Am I gonna regret this?” you groaned, sliding your hand down your face. If you didn’t pretend to be apprehensive, she’d notice something was off again.
“I dare you to, hmm…oh, I know! I dare you to kiss that mounted bear head,” she said. She giggled and hiccupped – and with that adorable display, how could you say no? Besides, it was way safer territory.
“Poor guy was probably just trying to find berries and now he’s being kissed by a drunk idiot.” You gave the big dusty thing a smooch right on the nose and patted its head. You wiped your mouth and made a face. “That thing is musty and disgusting. I was very brave for that, you know.” Nancy snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Like you haven’t kissed worse,” she quipped.
You went quiet and still. For once, Nancy didn’t pick up on it. She was tipsy and in a much better mood than she’d been when she was shaking and pale in the dark. “I mean, you’ve gotta admit it. There have been times where Eddie’s been mustier than the bear.” She laughed and covered her hand with her mouth. “Sorry, that was mean.”
“I…Nance, I’ve never–”
She sobered quickly. “Oh. You never kissed Eddie? I’m sorry, you guys were just so close. I thought…God, I’m an idiot.”
“No. I mean…I’ve never kissed anyone,” you mumbled. Your cheeks burned and you curled in on yourself. It was just one of many milestones you’d never experienced, and you’d only ever told Eddie why.
Her lips parted and she stammered. “Wh-what? I mean – you don’t – there’s no way – I mean, come on–”
“Yeah, well, the dating pool isn’t exactly teeming with people I can kiss in Hawkins,” you scoffed. You weren’t thinking. The words just rushed out, embarrassed and prideful. The last thing you wanted was Nancy pitying or humoring you.
“Sure there are!” she said, still oblivious. “I mean, maybe you were just too busy to notice,” she said, searching for anything encouraging to give you.
“Can we just drop it?” Your voice came out harsher than you meant it to, and you instantly regretted it. Nancy’s face fell and she cast her eyes down at the floor. Your heart sank and you scrambled to make up for it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that. I just… it’s complicated, okay?”
She didn’t say anything. Each second that ticked by made you feel worse. You were tired of everything coming back to the one person whose absence felt like a hole punched through your chest… the ghost you left the state to escape – and you only lashed out because you were terrified to tell her the truth. It wasn’t her fault.
Fucking idiot. What’s your problem? It’s Nancy!
That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? It’s her.
Your brain was at war with your heart, and it was maddening to just sit there and see that wounded look on her face. You felt frozen and helpless. That’s when a memory floated to the surface, unbidden.
Eddie stood in the kitchen nursing a beer while you lounged on the threadbare couch pillows. You stared at the ceiling and noticed a small water stain beginning to form. You’d have to do something about that before it got worse.
“You know you can tell her, right?” he said, crossing one lanky leg over the other.
“Tell her what?” You played dumb, because of course you did. He snorted, set the bottle on the counter, and flopped onto your legs like a jackass.
“You know what, asshole. That you like her. I may not be the brightest bat in the cave, but I’d have to be braindead not to notice the way you stare at her.” You glared at him, but you were blushing. That goofy, crooked grin spread across his face and he pointed in your face. “Aha! I knew it. You like Nancy Wheeler. You wanna kiss Little Miss Prom Queen!”
You sat up and punched him in the arm.
“Ow! Okay, okay, you hate her! She’s the worst and you wanna puke when you think about her! Happy?” You glared again and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Jerk.”
Eddie’s smile returned and he waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah, but you love me.”
“Keep dreaming, Munson.”
“Truth or dare?” Nancy asked in a low voice, pulling you out of the past. It was a test and you knew it.
“Truth.” Your heart was pounding against your ribcage and it was like you couldn’t breathe. She nodded. It was what she was hoping to hear.
“What’s so complicated about never having been kissed?” she asked. She looked up and held eye contact, refusing to back off. Nancy wasn’t the type of person who’d budge after she made up her mind to ask the hard questions. That’s what made her such a good journalist.
You thought about Robin and Vickie and how she never once judged them. They’d kissed in front of the whole group lots of times. It was safe to tell her. She didn’t need to know everything, but you could give her most of the truth.
“Nance…I’m a lesbian.”
She opened her mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again. She tried again. “So, um, like Robin?” You nodded and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. There was nothing you could think of to say in reply that didn’t make you want to hurl yourself off the balcony.
“Oh,” she whispered. “I see.” You squeezed your eyes shut. There were so many questions bouncing around in your mind; it was hard to concentrate.
Does she think I’m creepy for agreeing to be alone with her now? Does she think I’m trying to hit on her? You knew your thoughts were ridiculous but you couldn’t shut them off. Your body rocked back and forth with anxiety.
You smelled her perfume before you saw her. It was sweet and comforting. You recognized it as the one in the teddy bear decanter Steve had gotten her for her birthday years ago. When her fingers lightly traced down your arm, your eyelids fluttered open. The path she drew tingled pleasantly; you shivered and she leaned in.
“(Y/n?)” she murmured. “It’s your turn to ask me.” You felt the warmth of her breath fan across your cheek.
I have to be dreaming. This doesn’t make any goddamn sense! You felt like you were losing your mind. You pinched yourself just to be certain – sure enough, she was still sitting there, staring at you expectantly.
You had to clear your throat before you could get the words out.
“Truth…or dare?” you asked, your voice shaky. She didn’t answer at first; she just gazed at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a lazy smile.
“Dare.” The entire world seemed to hold its breath. If you were wrong… you didn’t even want to think about the consequences.
“I dare you t-to, um–”
Before you could get the words out, she grabbed your face in her hands and kissed you. Her lips were full, soft, and sweet like strawberries and wine. It was tentative but not unsure. You melted into it with a small surprised gasp. The two of you broke away with sticky, glossy mouths and red faces.
“That was–” you breathed, dazed. She didn’t give you much time to recover.
“Come here.” Nancy pulled you into her lap with a brilliant grin. One hand tangled in your hair, and the other splayed across your lower back; your lips met again. You looped your arms over her shoulders and clutched at the back of her shirt. She was warm – always so warm. Everyone made it seem like first kisses were awkward and clumsy, but with her it felt as natural as breathing. It wasn’t something you expected from her; she had more experience than she let on. It showed in every kiss, every touch.
Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip and you parted them for her. An involuntary moan slipped out and she giggled without breaking the kiss. The only other sounds in the cabin were heavy breathing, the crackle of burning logs, and fingers brushing over fabric. Every touch was intense and the heat between the two of you rose to a fever pitch.
Nancy broke the kiss and you whimpered.
“Relax,” she said with a soft laugh. “I just wanted to ask you a question.” You looked up at her, confused and struggling to catch your breath. “Truth or dare?” she said.
“Uh, dare?”
“I dare you to take off your shirt.”
You didn’t need further encouragement. “Yes ma’am.”
You woke to the smell of something sweet sizzling on a griddle. The power must’ve come back on in the middle of the night. The rug underneath you was soft, and you were covered with a fluffy quilt you didn’t remember putting on.
It was her. Of course it was.
You padded to the kitchen with bleary eyes and the quilt wrapped around your bare skin like a dress.
Nancy was standing there looking poised as ever, one hand on her hip while she flipped pancakes with the other. She was humming something to herself; you thought it might be some old love song, one of the sap-fests she loved so much. You leaned against the doorframe for a while, watching her, wondering if she understood how beautiful she was – in every light, with or without makeup, in fancy clothes or none at all, she was captivating. Thinking about the curves of her body in the soft orange glow of the fire made you blush again. All you wanted was to go to her and kiss her again, but you hesitated… What if she didn’t want it anymore?
Don’t overthink it, dumbass. Eddie was in your head again, and for once, you took his advice. You crossed the kitchen and kissed her cheek, enveloping her in your quilt.
“Merry Christmas, sleepyhead,” she said, nuzzling her nose against yours.
The first post for Stricklake Month 2025 features our two lovebirds dressed as heroes!
There’s also a short fic to go with it, and the sketch is a little illustration from that story.
Here is the caption.ーーーーーーー
A lighthearted, slightly sweet Stricklake story centered around a Halloween party.
Set during the time when Jim and the others are away on their journey to find the Heartstone, this is a little moment in the lives of those waiting for their return.(Only Stricklake appears in this one—sorry, not sorry!)
🎃 Here’s the story to go with the doodle! ⬇️⬇️
https://www.pixiv.net/novel/show.php?id=25487203 Bats, Bravery, and Bath Towels
kobujime #pixiv
ーーーーーーーーー A Keenswimmer2025 Week 1 Story — Heroes/Villains Set during the time when Jim and the others are away on their journey to find the
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Okay, I’m asking this in all sincerity:
Do trolls even have crotches?? 🤔😂
I mean, every time the “Third Rule” kicks in during the show, the one getting hit always looks like they’re in serious pain! Someone please enlighten me!!
Also, let’s be honest… the Batman suit definitely needs a bit more of a heroic bulge.lol
⬇️This drawing shows Barbara and Claire’s dads teasing Strickler, egging him on to strike classic Batman poses. 😂
Hiiiii Sarah, I'm one of your new followers and I just wanted to say that, I LOVED the Wally West x Reader angst fic (it had me screaming into a pillow) you wrote a while back !!!
I do have request tho , would you maybe be willing to write a part 2 of that fic? It was just sooo good and I couldn't get it out of my head
Tysm my love!! I wasn't very sure about how it turned out but your comment really hyped me up 💗. Of course! ty for following me and I hope this reach your expectations!!
Warnings: fem!reader, angst romance, forbidden love, reincarnation (?)
Words: 2338
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
You always liked cats.
They were cute and fluffy, but what you liked the most was the myth that cats were able to live 9 lives.
Of course, your logical and trained superhero mind knew that such a thing as reincarnation had very little chance of happening and much less with cats, but you liked to fantasize about it anyways.
You would catch yourself constantly thinking about it, 9 lives. 9 different whole lives, what would you do with those? The answer, for you, was obvious.
You would plan your 9 lives, thinking about what you would do and with who. Maybe you weren’t a superhero in one, maybe you were just a normal civilian, maybe you liked to do snorkeling and once and for all stopped fearing the ocean.
Yeah, that would be what you’d do in your first life.
You would spend your first life snorkeling, feeling all the different textures of sea animals and organisms. Maybe you would get bitten or harmed by one and needed medical attention and as you would be lying in the hospital’s bed, sedated with medication, you would no longer fear the sea and lived near to it for the rest of your first life.
And then, after your accident, maybe you could even have a date with the cute doctor that laughed but thanked you when you said— high as a comet— that his eyes were the most beautiful jewels you’ve ever seen, they reminded you of emeralds.
In your second life you would be born in a word without any type of powers or superheroes, you would decline your mothers wish of being model and choose a peaceful and quiet life, studying mechanical engineering because your dream job would be to be a F1 driver— but you would settle for being the person who designs the cars they’d drive, if being a driver didn’t work out.
At night, when the world was supposed to be asleep, you would sneak into the underworld and spend your nights racing illegally, a big smile on your face— because you never knew why or how, but going super fast without any other feelings besides adrenaline made you feel happy and free.
You would laugh while you drove at full speed, the tires would squeal and the car would give off a toxic smell of CO₂ that would seep into your lungs. You would love the feeling of the adrenaline running through your veins and your heart racing as much as your car, the air brushing your hair because you’d like to leave the car windows open while you’d drive.
Then, one night, for the first time, you would be defeated by a new guy that just moved into your town. He would be the new Drift King that would make you eat the ground for the first time in a long time. The thought of your next race would make your face lighten up because since that day, you wouldn't stop thinking about new techniques to defeat and take your place as the Drift Queen back from that damned new guy who’s hair looked like a forest in the autumn season.
In your third life you would be an absolute fan of superheroes. You would help your twin brother, Dick Grayson, to fight at night being his computer specialist. You would also help your father figure, Batman, and whoever he asked you to help to.
You loved superheroes, but you could never be one, never. The job was too risky, you needed to be the one who would take care of them from the comfort of your house, being a type of online vigilante that even though it technically could train and fight goons, would never try to.
You would help Alfred with the cooking and assist your brother and father figure when they would train, handing them towels and bottles of water when necessary. You even learned medical assistance under the wing of Alfred, being too afraid to lose your new family member like you did a time ago in a circus.
You would help your family and some years later, when the death of your younger brother and the moving of your twin one would be too much to handle, you would find yourself moving too.
You would escape far away, leaving all the things you’ve known behind and trying to create a normal life with normal acquaintances.
But it couldn’t be that easy, could it? What was the saying? Once a vigilante, always a vigilante. It seemed like troublesome things would be attracted to you like magnets.
So, taking that into account, you weren’t very surprised when a robbery attempt happened in your local bank.
You would act calm—the teachings of Bruce sunk in your mind like roots—as you followed the criminals orders, all the time tricking them into perceiving you as submissive as you would subtly protect the rest of the civilians. Technically you were a civilian too, but it wasn’t the same, you had more than basic training that Batman taught you that you followed since a kid.
But before anyone could get hurt, The Flash entered the building, saving all of them in a flash. You would observe him, Wally West, the new Flash and your twin brother's best friend save all of you.
Wally and you have never been that close, the only reason you guys got along was because of Dick but when he moved to Bludheaven and you moved to Central, at some point, the calls and the messages stopped.
You tried to brush it off but the truth was that you missed your twin brother, you missed your father father figure, you missed Alfred and you were secretly excited to meet the new young boy—Tim, if you recall—that entered the family.
You sometimes envied Wally, since your brother always hung out with him and for some years, Wally West has known most things about your brother than you, even know, he probably still talked and meet him while you would only stare at your shared chat—one that has been silent for some time—in silent, waiting for a magical text to appear.
The Flash came into your way, not even looking at you as he moved his hands to untie your hands, your heart raced as you thought if he would remember you.
“You okay, ma’am?” he would ask calmly in a i’m-comforting-a-civilian voice.
“Yeah, thanks” you would answer, your heart skipping a beat when his head raised quickly, eyes wide open as he looked at you. His eyes comparing you to the version of you that he remembered, surprised written all over his face like if he didn’t expect to see you.
You would thought that he reacted like that because he didn’t knew you moved here, which made you ask yourself why Dick didn’t tell him. Maybe he stopped caring for you after all?
He stumbled over his words but the only thing you had in your mind was—
Oh, he still got a constellation drawn in his face.
Months passed and after encountering him a lot of times because of superhero type of problems, he finally would ask you to grab a coffee with him to "catch up".
In your fourth life you probably would run away.
You would travel the word and meet places you never thought they would exist until you landed on them. You would block all of the persons you once knew, breaking the expectations your family had for you—maybe you would listen to them in another life, who knows.
In your fourth life you would be in every city for a while but you never stayed long enough to make stable friends, you would be surrounded by different people from different cultures, cities and personalities but you would be completely and utterly alone cause none of them would be a person you would trust your life with.
In your loneliness you would adopt a big and fluffy dog and raise it by yourself, making it travel the world with you and stay by your side to the point where it would watch you take your last breath on this earth.
In your fourth life you would never be able to find him, to find the right person and who was meant for you. You weren’t ready and since being ready is a decision, you would decide that you’d never be. You wouldn’t even give anyone the chance to approach you in the fear of disappointing them so you always left before they could get the chance to do it.
In your fifth life you listened to your family’s advice.
You would take your family out of poverty, you’d retire your parents after you studied a career you didn’t like at all, fulfilling the dream they asked your older brother to do before he runned away .
You would get a job that would make you work from 8 to 6, you would make a stable income and settle down with a man you’re not very sure you’re in love with but he would be a good father to your children.
You would buy a house near the beach, where you would take your children to do snorkel under your teaching while your husband would reading a book as he laid down in the sand after he took your children to collect ‘sea treasures’, as they liked to called them, before you took them to do snorkel.
You would forgive some infidelities for the sake of your family and would kill yourself yourking to make sure your children had everything they needed, unlike you did when you were their age.
You weren’t completely happy and you were sure your younger self would feel a little disappointed of you, but you didn’t have a bad life and some women had worse family issues.
Sometimes, when your kids were swimming in the seashore and your husband went for a walk when his phone began to ring, you would stare into the little golden sea star necklace your childhood best friend gave you for your birthday right before you moved from Central City to Star City.
You would smile at the memories of that little boy who always was up to a race with the other kids, remembering how you promised to marry each other at 30 if none of you had a couple for that time and how you exchanged gifts, he’d gave you a golden sea star necklace and you would gave him a golden thunderbolt bracelet because he always said something like—“I’m as fast as a flash!”
You’d wonder who that little boy was nowadays, what his job was and what happened to his life.
In your next 2 lifes you would be lost.
You wouldn’t know what to do with your life or with whom. You would have a nostalgic, beautiful but painful feeling everytime you walked into nature because the color green meant something to you, reminded you of someone you just couldn't make yourself remember to who.
You would have the same feeling everytime the sun would express itself through sunrise and sunset, because the mix of those warm colours would remind you of a love you weren’t capable of remembering having felt before.
It would happen everytime you would see a ginger, no matter if it was a boy or girl. Your heart would begin to race for no known reason as you would wait for them to turn around, feeling disappointed when they weren’t who you expected them to be—but it wasn’t like you knew who you were expecting either.
You would feel empty because you desire something with all of your heart but you never knew what it was.
In one life, you would find it.
In the another one, you wouldn’t.
Then you would reach your eighth life— the one you prayed you were living.
In your eighth life, you and Wally would find a cure to the reaction of your abilities combined.
You would cry tears of joy when time passed and none of you could feel any difference from the first minute you guys started to be near each other.
Wally would kiss you all the time he could, a smile on his face because no matter how many minutes he would be by your side, his body didn’t slow down.
You would make your relationship public, receiving blessings from all the people you’ve known and approving smiles from both of your mentors.
In your eighth life you two would marry each other properly, a big ceremonie for all your known ones and then a little dinner for the closest ones. You would wear your ring proudly in your finger instead of hiding it in a necklace under your shirt.
You would travel the world together for a year after your marriage before settling down on the outskirts of Central City, leaving behind the apartment on the second floor you guys shared before in the centre of the city.
You would have children, two twin boys that were as handsome as their daddy and a little girl that was as beautiful as her mommy.
In your eighth life, your self being wouldn’t be a threat to the other one. You know your eighth life is like this because sometimes you dream about it, and it feels so real that you almost start to think "this is the bad dream" but that is your reality.
But you don’t have 9 lives, you only have one.
This one.
So I guess you will pass it sneaking around, always close but never close enough, always fearing the consequences of being loved by someone who isn’t supposed to love you back,
You only had one life, this one, but you like to think that the universe couldn’t be cruel enough to not allow you and Wally a happy ending in at least one.
You only had one life and you would spend it praying for another one.
Hope you liked it 💗 If you prefer to be a happy ending, you could just imagine like the 8th life was the current life 😽alte
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