Heat

heat

pairings: jj maybank x reader

request: #3 on the req of roommate au for jj 😩😩 // The heat is off because our landlord sucks so I slept in your bed last night and I’m realizing how much I enjoy waking up next to you

warnings: roommate!au

word count: 700

to be fair, you didn’t think you had to pay the bills for at least two more weeks. you should’ve known though, your landlord made his disdain for you and your roommate quite obvious.

wrapped up in two thick duvets, you groaned. with winter rolling around, the cold of your apartment didn’t help you warm up.

it was deep into the night when jj came back home from his job. he was looking forward to the comfortable sanctuary he calls his warm bed, what he didn’t expect though was to be greeted by a chill in your usual cozy home.

he walked towards the thermostat, expecting you to have lowered the temperature but seeing it off made him let out a disgruntled whine.

when you heard a faint knock on your door, you peaked your head through the covers and smiled when you saw jj walk in with two cups of hot chocolate.

you sipped on it as soon as you got a hold of it, letting out a soft moan of satisfaction, “thanks, j. you’re a lifesaver.”

he chuckled, laying in with you as you lifted the comforter up to invite him in. the both of you stayed in bed all night, having a disney movie marathon as you tried your best to keep yourself distracted from the cold.

the sun seeping through your blinds woke jj up, he blindly tried to pat down another pillow to keep his eyes covered from the light when your body heat snapped him out of his daze. there was an old disney movie playing on the tv, the two of you must’ve slept in.

jj carefully shifted his body to look at you. you were cuddled into his side, arms and legs sprawled against him as your nose slightly tickled him.

he smiled softly. it was nice, he thought, waking up next to you. the two of you weren’t necessarily something. there was playful flirting here and there, flushed faces, and heart eyes, but none of you made the move to ask each other out.

he brushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

the slight brush against your face made you stir from your slumber. you hummed as you felt the stare of the blonde, nuzzling your face deeper into his neck.

“good morning, sunshine,” he grinned, his voice raspy from just having woken up.

“morning,” you yawned, shuddering slightly from the cold.

jj’s smile grew as he watched you make yourself comfortable in his embrace. he ran a hand on your arm, making the goosebumps disappear.

he kissed your forehead, “i could get used to this,”

you hummed, “yeah?”

“yeah,” he smiled, tilting his head to look at you.

“i’d kiss you right now but the morning breath doesn’t sound so attractive right now,” you laughed, rubbing the excess sleep from your eyes.

jj suddenly leaped up, throwing the covers away from you. he pulled you up by your arms and threw you on his shoulder.

“jj!” you shrieked, throwing weak punches at his back.

he wordlessly walked around your apartment and opened the bathroom door. he sat you down on the countertop.

you gave him a confused smile, watching him, tousled bed head and ruffled clothes, shuffle through the cabinet. he shoved the toothbrush and toothpaste in your hand with a patient look, “go on,”

“you are unbelievable,” you scoffed humorously, brushing your teeth as he did the same, smiling cheekily at you through the mirror.

as soon as both of you were finished, he placed both arms at each of your sides. you brought your hands at the back of his neck and played with his messy locks.

“may i?” he whispered, leaning closer that your noses were touching.

you nodded, meeting his lips halfway and finally getting around the feeling of kissing him. you’ve thought of how his lips would feel on yours but nothing compares to it actually happening.

when you pulled away the both of you had wide grins on your faces, you leaned in again and stole a few more pecks.

“guess we have to thank mr. landlord for turning off our heat, huh?”

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OH MY GOSH CONGRATS LOVE !! ❤️‍🔥 YOU DESERVE THIS

400 celebration🫂

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ends july 2nd

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make a wish, banksy. frat!adam banks x reader 

summary: it’s adam’s birthday. adam hates his birthday.

warning/s: swearing, underaged drinking

slater’s note: a second adam banks birthday story???? woahh

the frat house is filled with cheer and loud music as the ducks prepared for a very special event, hanging outdated christmas lights and streamers along the walls and ceiling to cheer and light up the dim and dusty interior of the house. 

connie and julie blew up balloons with helium but also sucking the toxic air into their lungs, talking with high voices before laughing their asses off. they found themselves lightheaded with hands pressed against their foreheads as their sight went black before it cleared- leaving them back to blow up balloons with laughs. 

dean and fulton filled the kitchen, impatiently, waiting for the timer to go off for the cake they had made, just for adam, a cake that had taken hours to make due to the both of them not knowing where to start till goldberg having to direct them. 

and it wasn’t soon till charlie busted through the door with luis, both hauling a large keg full of beer, toping the party off with a cherry that wouldn’t start till you and adam got home. 

you had promised to give adam the best birthday party he would ever experience, which wouldn’t be hard to beat seeming each birthday he ever had was always was with his parents in a nice restaurant with a steak dinner, something that was worse than it sounded, but he had accepted your bet, not really expecting much but a cake and the ducks, but you were determined for it to be more than that. 

charlie was given a schedule from julie, deeming him the official party supervisor, meaning everything on the schedule had to be there and on time just for adam’s birthday to go perfectly and run smoothly. 

“alright,” charlie pulled the schedule from his back pocket before checking off ‘get keg’ from the list, then stuffing it back in his jeans pocket. “we have less than an hour before they get back. is the cake done yet?” luis ducked his head toward the kitchen before wincing, “i don’t think so.”

“what?” charlie marched to the kitchen, catching fulton and dean carefully pulling out a large pan full of uneven cake, waiting to be frosted. “what’s going on, why aren’t you done yet?” “hey man, i don’t exactly specialize in cake making,” dean glared at charlie, raising his hands up in mock. he was frustrated and ready to walk out of the hot kitchen having been in there for more than two hours. 

“whatever, just get it done.” charlie marched towards the living room where connie and julie placed balloons around, his eyes going wide with how largely the area was decorated, barely being able to see the old crappy wallpaper, “nice job!” he pulled out his list before checking decorations off his list and then cake.. hoping it'd be done by the time you two would arrive. 

“alright,” charlie sighed, dropping his arms, “lets grab everyone else and start the finishing touches.” 

°•

the car filled with low rap music and adam drove the two of you home from dinner with his parents. he was always in a bad mood after seeing his parents, especially on his birthday.. it never really felt like his birthday when the attention was focused around them, arguing and focusing on themselves. 

the two of you had sat awkwardly listening. you really hadn’t wished this upon adam but he always felt obligated to spend dinner with them on his night despite there being no reason to, but it was the good of him. 

he parked his car in the frat house driveway, getting out slowly before joining your side at the front door where you could already hear the party music. it made you cringe, maybe this wasn’t going to be the best birthday ever. 

“i had a nice night tonight,” you mumbled, holding your tinfoil swan full of your leftovers. 

adam laughed lowly and lightly before looking down to you, nodding, “thank you for coming.”

“of course,” you nodded before standing quietly for a minute, you then pressed a kiss on his cheek before opening the front door to his party. 

“you’re finally here!” charlie called loudly, a drink in his hand as well as his wrist watch looking like a father waiting up for his children.

adam covered up his bad mood quickly, giving charlie a remorse filled smile before shaking his hand, “this is great man,” adam looked around at the streamers and balloons crowded everywhere he looked, “thank you.”

“don’t thank me,” charlie nodded in your direction with a small smile. “all your girlfriend.”

charlie disappeared from your sights causing adam to turn back to you, a smile on his face. he walked back and closer to you, laying his hand on your lower back, leaning down for a tight hug.

you smiled to it, your arms quickly wrapping around his shoulders before he pulled away just as fast, pressing a kiss on your nose, “thank you.” he meant it sincerely with admiration in his eyes. “i mean it, i don’t deserve it.”

“yes you do,” you said quickly, raising your hand to his soft pale cheek, “you really do, banksy.”

he shook his head, looking away from your eyes and out toward the party. he smiled, so content with what he saw, he was ready to go to bed, but he pulled you towards the living room, streamers dancing across his shoulders.

he continued to lightly pull you, the sound of music increasing as you were now next to a the stereo.

adam’s hand went to your waist, pulling you closer to him while you linked your arms around his neck, pressing your head against his chest, smiling.

you danced.

°•

the clock was soon to hit twelve and once julie realized it, she rushed adam quickly to the small kitchen table where his unleveled cake sat with white frosting and blue sloppy letters stating ‘happy birthday cake-eater!”

he smiled, looking up to all of you with happiness. his heart swelled as he leaned against the table with his forearms pressed against the old cold yellow table.

connie stabbed five candles within the cake before lighting them, mumbling a happy birthday to him as she did so, smiling lightly.

everyone sung happy birthday while adam’s cheeks burned red, his eyes diverting one duck to another while he clenched and unclenched his knuckles. you held his shoulders, squeezing them before leaning your head in his shoulders once the song ended.

he stared at his candles, hesitantly, glancing at you but only seeing your hair peeled over his shoulder.

“make a wish, banksy,” you squeezed his shoulders lightly again before pressing a kiss against his cheek. “you only turn nineteen once.”

he glanced at you once again before smiling slightly, blowing out the five candles, making a wish.

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we’re not alone, part one. bellamy blake x reader

summary: in which reader and bellamy discover they and the rest of the plane crash survivors are not the only ones on the island

warning/s: swearing, gif not mine

slater’s note: based off “lost”.

READ BEFORE READING FIC

“bellamy,” you reached behind you, blindly trying to grip and get ahold of him as you were suddenly shunned into a shocked and practically terrified state. “bellamy.”

you gaped at the man before you. a tall tall man, taller than bellamy who had another person slung over his shoulder, a person you soon realized to be murphy.

his shirt was torn and damp from the previous rainfall. dirt was smudged and staining his pants and white button up. you could tell a lot about someone with their attire, especially this man, and from the sight of it, it looked as if he hadn’t changed for days, as in wherever he came from, they lacked supplies.

bellamy finally turned. realization had hit him just as fast, his arm gripping your forearm mindlessly as he tilted his body, attempting to ease you further away from the man. the unfamiliarity of the person before the two of you could only mean bad news, for you were deep within the wilderness, far from the rest of your group and friends.

unfamiliarity meant danger, especially when it came to human beings you had never seen before on a desert island.

before bellamy could speak or let alone do anything, the man filled the silence.

“where is your doctor?”

°•

you had found abby in the bunker with kane, both occupied in their own entertainment before three loud clumped footsteps interrupted their peace.

“abby,” you could see the coloration of her face fade at the sight of the huge unfamiliar man just as what happened to you. her eyes didn’t meet yours, nor did kane’s as he got to his feet rather fast in defense. “it’s murphy, he’s been shot.”

it was then did the speed pick up and the attention from the man was drawn away and contracted to the frail boy held over his shoulders. you stared in despair as you watched it all unfold, helplessly, your arms hanging to your sides for you had no idea what to do, what to make of this.

five days ago you had bid murphy, two other men, and a little boy goodbyes. one of the men, michael had built a makeshift raft, a very large one made from scrap of the plane and resources that you all could find from the jungle.

your chest had swelled with uneasiness as you watched the nasty boy disappear within the dark along with his friends, having as much hope a person could have for them to find help, a boat, more land, whatever that wasn’t this island.

what went wrong?

why was he injured and who was this strange man?

murphy was tossed in the shower, cold water raining down on him causing him conscious to reappear with coughs and groans of pain.

you clenched your jaw and held your breath as you listened from the main room, eyes finding the floor before you felt a hand grip your bicep.

you looked up to see bellamy, not looking at you but rather behind you, uneasiness filling his eyes just as they filled yours. “who are you?”

you turned your head toward the man, now getting a better look at him. his eyes looked empty, his shoulder sulking and low as he only stood there, not knowing what to do with himself but stay silent. it seemed as if he already did his job, completed what he was set to do when coming here, for now, it seemed it was his time to shut down from any other interaction.

you now fully turned your body, your back practically pressed against bellamys, your hand almost indistinctively pressed against his chest in fear that he would jump at the man. you knew that voice. he was starting to get defensive and protective from the unfamiliarity that hit him in the chest. 

“i’ve never seen you before.”

“bellamy, i don’t think he’s a threat,” you almost bit your tongue when saying this, defying his decision with being cautious. that decision was valid and probably the right idea to go about this situation but your mind was very well overwhelmed with the fact of the raft failing. 

“y/n,” he gave you a pointed look, pulling at your arm as if pulling you away from the man, wanting to have a private conversation. “he shows up out of nowhere with murphy hauled over his shoulder, looking as if he was the one who put the bullet in murphy’s shoulder. how do we know that’s not true? where’s michael? where’s everyone else?”

“bellamy, i don’t know,” you shook your head, suddenly gripping his arm that held your own. “i don’t know but i have a feeling we wouldn't be here right now if he was one of them.”

“y/n,” his glare is even hard now, gripping your arm tighter as if that were to coax you into switching to his mindset, but it only made you clench your jaw harder. “we can’t let our guard down. i’ve never seen him before. as far as we’ve known we have been alone. where did he come from?”

“you are on an island my friend,” the man tipped his head to bellamy, “you’ve never been alone.”

the two of you turned your attention to the man quickly, surprised to his response. you glanced up to bellamy, seeing a slight twitch in his eye and his jaw tightening causing his jawline to heighten in sharpness. he looked back down to you, licking his the side of his cheek before looking back to the man.

°•

“you know it was going great at first,” murphy rolled his head before speaking, his voice low and filled with uncomfortableness from the gunshot wound still eating away at him. everyone subtly crowded around murphy in one of the bedrooms while you waited out in the main room, watching the strange man while still listening the best you could. 

you had to convince bellamy to allow you to watch him without the brooding company of himself, fearing he'd choke the man out if they were left alone in the same room. the two of you sat on chairs on opposite ends of the room, lacking eye contact as you stared at the floor and his eyes traveled off into space. 

“we got a signal of another boat and you couldn't believe the excitement we all felt until we realized the boat wasn't there to rescue us but to only take the kid,” you lifted your attention to the direction of the room, your chest tightening up to his words. the kid, was michael’s ten year old boy, walt. “they shot me in the arm before lighting our boat on fire, leaving us to drown.” 

your eyes drew back to the man, practically devastated and looking to him, almost asking if what murphy was saying was actually true. he didn’t look back at you. 

“we somehow ended back on shore only to find a group of people,” murphy had grabbed abby’s wrist lightly, proving he seemed to be a lot more loopy than she thought. “they’re the others, the back of the plane. they survived.”

it all went silent, the strangers eyes finally met yours, finally revealing that this part was true with the sincereness buried in his pupils. you got up rather fast with your hands clenching at your sides. 

you felt your mind suddenly bursting with a feeling of ambition due to the realization. before the crash, the back plane broke off, sending off into god knows where causing the group from the front plane survivors think they were dead. 

“take me to them.”

he looked up to you, his chin nuzzled within the palm of his hand as if he were bored. he didn't speak nor did he make any move to stand to his feet until you marched forward and closer with your eyes filled with a solid, persistent stare, “take me to them.”

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THE X-FILES — 3x12 ❘ “War of the Coprophages”

prove me wrong. finnick odair x reader

summary: finnick odair finds you weak and wants you to prove otherwise

warning/s: swearing, mentions of suicide, unedited

slater’s note: i feel like this fandom is dead and that makes me hella sad lolz (i literally watched the movies for the first time yesterday)  

the only reason you were alive.. was because of him.

when you were fourteen your name was pulled from a large glass bowl just like many others before you. you felt the whole world crash around on your shoulders as you had heard your name called and eyes settled on you, wild but filled with relief that it was you and not them.

you couldn’t breathe and you felt your heart pound against your chest so harshly, it was hard to forget. you could feel your ribs crack.

moments after, an eighteen year old boy’s name was called, someone you hadn’t known and forever wished you had never met.

today, you sat on the same train from six years ago feeling like a scared little girl, like fourteen year old you had came alive once again with the call of your name from the escort. your eyes wide with horror and dread before closing with the feeling of content at the idea that now, your time had come, and your luck had finally run out.

your ride to the capitol made you queasy as the male victor drawn from the glass bowl tired his best to talk to you, ask you of your strategy and skills, completely oblivious as to how you survived on the reliance of some other boy who wanted nothing more in life but to die.

the capitol was flooded with people in nice clothing and overdone hair and accessories filled with colors ranging from one end to the other of the color scale. it hurt your head and in return you frowned at the sight of many smiles and sounds of glee you couldn’t return.

you clenched your jaw and fists as the peace keepers pushed you through the commotion with their cold, tense hands. it made you arch away, not enjoying the touch, never enjoying the touch, especially from them.

the games had ruined all human contact for you. it made you a stranger to all those who would enter the arena, even after the first year where you were forced out to the parties and gatherings and fame that was supposed to pull you closer to past victors, but so undoubtedly failed because they all knew you weren’t a true victor.

°•

your stomach filled with knots and before you could even think, you ended up back where you were six years ago only without short hair and naive-innocent eyes that created adoration for sponsors.

you held the same brightness in your eyes now, despite all the death and traumatic moments that laced into your irises of experience—experiences that still haunted your dreams in dark clouds. dreams that more or so we’re nightmares that you attempted to push away at thought.

you had a gold dress wrapped tightly around your waist while strands of look-a-like wheat loosely twirled around your waist with a thin layer of tulle flowed over—in representation to the eleventh district. you sparkled gold specks, making you hard not to be noticed as you walked through the entrance of the arena where all the horses waited with carriages.

hard not to be noticed by him.

“for one thing, they never fail to make you the prettiest girl in the room.”

you clenched your jaw at the sound of his voice, his unmistakable sarcastic tone filled with taunt and something else that made your chest tighten even more so than it already was.

you turned around, eyes meeting finnick odair’s as he had a quirked eyebrow at you, wanting you to say something in return, but almost knew you wouldn’t. you took one look at him before sighing, knowing this would be one long experience and if the games didn't kill you, he probably would himself. 

“it’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning slightly on the wall the two of you stood by, “you almost made it without another look from the capitol, but here they just pull you back in for more.” 

you licked the inside of your cheek, “what do you want?”

“oh nothing,” he grinned, “just making sure i catch up with the capitol’s most hated before they tear you apart out there in the arena.” 

your mind thought of the reason as to why you were the most hated, making your shoulders sink and expression become even more heavy with sorrow than before in remembrance of the male tribute you had been paired with that year; jens and the way he had sacrificed himself right before your eyes moments before you were crowned victor for that years hunger games. 

“you’re going to be the one to kill me, aren't you?” you frowned harder with hurt.

“i wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

°•

the training room was filled with many victors practicing and sporting their skills for all to see. it made your head hurt at the sight of so many finding delight in the thought of killing/hurting one another in order to please the capitol.

you swallowed harshly before rubbing the side of your face, deciding where to start first. although you weren’t exactly the capitol’s most hated victor despite finnick’s words, they all still thought so lowly of you with no strength and no skill but the ability to hide real well. 

but overtime, fueled with the anger of people thinking so low of you, and anger that you were actually so undeserving of the victor stand point, you had trained yourself to something your fourteen year-old-self wasn’t. 

“wanna spar?” johanna grinned to you as she came up from behind you holding two swords tightly in her grip. “i promise i won’t hurt you too bad.”

“you sure,” you quirked a brow, taking a hold of the metal material she held out to you before taking a few steps back for some distance. “i don’t wanna hurt you.”

she rolled her eyes, also taking a few steps back, allowing silence and focus to cloud her vision before launching herself at you. she swung her sword causing you to lean backwards, almost falling to your ass from how low she swung. 

you swung back, catching her sword causing a loud metal on metal sound to echo throughout the large room. swing after swing you had proved yourself to not be the girl you were all those years ago that people had watched from their screens with worry and even anger with how easy you got away with winning all because of a boy who was smart and strong and charming and in the end, had no will to live. 

you were no longer weak. 

you had almost caught johanna’s skin many times if it weren’t for her being quicker and more experienced with combat until, finally, the tip of your blade sliced across her cheek, catching her off guard.

 she frowned and just as you were going to take another stab at her, she rolled behind you, making your swing to your side, thinking you'd once catch her off guard with how quick you reacted, but to your failure, you had caught finnick just barely at the tip of his nose. 

you swallowed harshly, taken aback, and after he swallowed his own slight shock, he tipped the blade away from his face with two fingers, smirking, “careful there, sweetheart.” 

you dropped your weapon, clenching your jaw. 

“wouldn’t want to kill the most charming person in the capitol,” johanna rolled her eyes, speaking in a rather low and annoyed tone as she dropped and rolled her shoulders from how tense they felt. “of course, your gonna end up deserving it if you keep getting in the way, finnick,” she bumped shoulders with him before taking ahold of your own sword, walking away.

“you sure know how to fight, girl wonder. where was that at your first games?”

“shut up,” you glared at him, rolling your shoulders, now feeling fired up. 

his eyebrows raised, slightly surprised at your words, “finally standing up for yourself? what happened to you in those six years?”

“just decided i’m done letting people like you shitting on me for something i couldn’t control,” you spat, feeding into his taunt. 

“you let that boy die for you,” he leaned in forward rather fast, catching you off guard with how close his face was to yours. “you let that boy die for you even though you knew you very well you didn’t deserve to win. you’re weak, you always have been, always will be.”

“i was fourteen,” you pushed on, hurt by his words and now completely set off. “he killed himself before i could even process what had happened. you think i wanted to be victor? you think i even wanted to be drawn from that stupid glass bowl in the first place? i wanted to be dead the moment they drew my name.” 

your voice came out fast and choppy filled with anger and offense as you couldn’t even process what nerve he had to call you the things he did, “i am not weak. you know why? because i have put up with people like you for six fucking years. i am not weak.”

“prove me wrong then,” he swiftly gripped your chin, tightly, raising his eyebrows daring you to do something. “prove. me. wrong.”

you jerked your head away from him, glaring at him, not knowing what to do but walk away with your fist tightly gripped, thinking of how you’d have to kill him if you wanted to prove his words wrong. 

°•

you were completely knocked out from the strobe of lightening that flew through katniss’ bow before electrocuting the whole arena. you hadn’t known whether if you were dead the minute you had hit the base of a tree but you figured you were with not being able to move or think or even open your eyes. 

that was until everything in your body so suddenly ached and you were very much aware that you were alive from the pounding headache taking over your mind and your body pressed against the cold metal floor of a jet. 

the jet that whisked away dead bodies. 

you pushed yourself from the floor, groaning and keeping your eyes shut tightly due to the bright fluorescent lights stabbing your sight and increasing your throbbing headache. it was then the questions flooded in. 

what happened? 

why were you on the jet?

was this a dream?

where was finnick?

finnick, the boy you had came to rely on progressively through the short amount of time you had all spent in the games. he had saved you many times and even when you had tried your best to stay as far away from him as you could, wanting nothing to do with him and his taunting till you finally gave in once he had saved you from the hurling axe that had been coming your way from one of the district one victors, tackling you into the water, just barely missing the very sharp blade by an inch. 

you were in a small room before opening the surprisingly unlocked glass door out into a large main hallway, where voices echoed and touched the walls gently. you slowly wandered before reaching fogged doors that prevented you from seeing who hid behind before you heard his voice. 

“i don’t know if she’s ready or not.”

you slowly pulled the knife your had hid in beneath your belt and shirt at hand, holding it tightly as you continued to listen carefully. 

“what do you mean ‘you don’t know’,” another voice spoke lowly and rather irritated. 

“she’s hard to read,” finnick mumbled, “she isn’t exactly an open book, ready to tell me every secret she has.”

“i thought that’s who you were, mister ‘i know everyone’s secrets-”

“what’s going on?” you passed through the doors, taken aback the moment you saw and realized who was all in the room, haymitch and the game keeper and finnick like you had guessed. “why am i here?”

“y/n.” you gripped the knife tightly behind your back as you looked between the men, analyzing each of them fully before you landed on finnick who was leaned against the other end of the large table across from you, staring at you with an unfamiliar look that caused your chest to filled with an unfamiliar feeling.

“what’s happening?” 

“you might want to sit down for this, sweetheart,” haymitch took a step towards you with his hands ready to grasp you, and out of panic you lifted your knife, pointed closely to his chest making his arms go up in surrender. “i’m not gonna hurt you.”

“how do i know that?” “y/n,” finnick had his arms raised as well, rounding the table to join haymitch’s side. “y/n, it’s over.”

“what’s over?” you still had your knife pointed, “why am i here?”

“the games are over,” the gamemnaker mumbled from the table, watching the scene unfold, “you don’t have to be scared.” you looked between the man anxiously before the weapon was ripped from your gripped making you yelp in surprise. you suddenly felt cornered as you watched haymitch hand the knife to finnick who set it down on the table. 

“you're going to kill me now, aren’t you?” you frowned hard with your back pressed against the wall, fear and doubts beginning too creep in on you.  “i wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” finnick smiled lightly, “you proved yourself.” 

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