#I have one tucked away for someone even in case they ever needed to remember

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ TWO HALVES OF ONE HEART.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PART 02 OF HEART AND MIND! READ PART 01 HERE.

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

WORD COUNT ⠆3,756 (well spent!)

ON ROTATION ⠆cheek to cheek by frank sinatra, head over heels by tears for fears, my heart it beats for you by grent perez, how deep is your love by bee gees.

CATEGORIES ⠆very fluffy!!! a long awaited lovers reunion!!!! the boys on crew being the biggest supporters as always, joyce being lovely, very comforting. loved how it came out... though i feel like it kinda dragged but i digress.

𝟒𝟏𝟏. a much needed reunion between two lovers.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen lake washington look so alive, there were swarms of crowds surrounding the lake. the day was sunny and bright with a slight wind whistling through the air.

full of supporters and spectators from both cal and washington alone. your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed followed your parents through the crowd but ultimately separating from them as you made your way to the viewing deck. the thought of seeing don again— being in his presence again made you so excited yet so nervous. you were elated he made the JV rowing team, knowing how effortlessly he knew how to do things; basically being good at anything. you had a fairly good spot over looking the water; not realizing it’s a student only viewing deck (did those even exist..). you looked for a spot not to close to the front in case don ends up seeing you, you didn’t want to throw him off from their first race of the season. as you were getting settled in your spot you accidentally bump into someone.

“oh! i am so sorry!” you apologize, pushing your hair away from crowding your face as you watch the girl in front of you stumble a bit.

“no! no it’s totally okay.” a blonde with short hair instantly assures, noticing as her eyes scanning over you.“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around school before.” she adds, you found it bit odd she would say such a thing.

“ i don’t actually go here.” you affirmed, clearing your throat a bit. still confused on her sudden interrogation, she nods. taking in the newfound information before continuing.

“where do you attend?” you hesitate, suddenly noticing how everyone on the deck had UW flags and you didn’t have that, instead a berkeley flag that someone had given you after recognizing you from school. if she had seen the flag tucked behind you it would’ve given you away immediately.

“cal.” a slight cough out of the school name; there was no way in lying to her, suddenly feeling small amongst the groups of UW students. the short haired girl piques at your response “cal as in cal state berkeley— the rowing team the boys are going against?” you nod for her in clarification “how come you’re rooting for the opposite team?” fully facing you now. before you can tell her your reason she interrupts saying how rude it was for her to bombard you without asking your name, you weren’t offend at all and introduced yourself instantly as she does the same immediately after.

“my boyfriend is on the team actually.” you felt awkward telling her but also relieved, you don’t remember the last time you outright told anyone you had a boyfriend. ”oh really! who?” it crosses in joyce’s mind that it could be joe but she knows joe would never keep something like this from her and there was a massively rare chance it would be him so her mind briefs through the rest of the roaster. though she only knew their faces and not their names.

“don, don hume. you know him?” joyce ponders for a bit, the name sounding very familiar.

“i think joe mentioned him before…” you assume ‘joe’ is on the rowing team with don, further assuming she was here to root for joe but would’t say that of course… insisting she’s here rooting for everyone, not just joe.

“its okay, he’s not much of a talker anyways.” laughing it off, don wasn’t someone to put himself in the lime light, finding comfort alone or with you. a part of you hoping he’s getting along well with his teammates as he isnt the easiest to get along with because of how reserved he could be… you just want him to be happy.

“does he know you’re here?” you shake your head in response but mention to her that you sent him a letter recently entailing that you were coming over to visit but it was safe to assume he hadn;t gotten it since he hadn’t called (knowing he only calls when he needs to respond immediately). an idea suddenly sparks in your new friends mind. she tells you there is supposed to be a party if the huskies win and she insists you surprise him then, it was such a spur of the moment proposition you accepted. she squeals excitedly, grasping your arm. she was so happy to meet someone new who wasn’t from washington, excited to make your acquaintance as she stays close to you, cheering on the boys.

the race was nothing short of a spectacle, no one was sure that the huskies would win but they had defied odds and won with an astounding outcome. you see dons face as their boat pushes to the finish line, time seems to slow when your eyes land on him. his hair is shorter and face slimmer from the last time you saw him, your heart swells seeing him so happy from winning, splashing the water and celebrating with the rest of the team. you don’t think you’ve seen anything more attractive, his muscles taught and defined in that fitting uniform he wore. a faint blush creeps up you neck as you watch his muscles flex under the sunlight, you couldn’t wait to be with him again, talk to him, be in his arms again. you eyes don’t leave him until joyce drags you away from the your spot, immediately talking your ear off about how well they did on the way to her dorm. don lingering in your mind the whole way.

the hall was loud and in high spirits after the win of the JV rowing team, don watches as george walks off hand and hand with a pretty brunette. sitting alone as the other guys sit in the paired tables in front of him, having their own conversations. don didn’t mind to be alone or away from the group; it would probably be expected of him to go off and talk to others but he really isn’t much of a talker and preferred to observe the scenes in front of him. he didn’t need to be apart of the fun to have fun- he was content knowing the guys were having a good time. it did get lonely at times though the guys kept him company and included him in conversation for a part but his mind kept lingering at the thought of you; being here with him— having fun of your own if you were here. he’s been thinking about you more lately, missing you more than he usually did. it was rough the first few months but he eventually got used to the fact that you weren’t around anymore and he had to carry on with his own life. its not to say he didn’t think of you at all; you were the muse of his dreams and he’d think about how you were sometimes and at times where he’s out, he’d something that reminds him of you. most of all, the jewelry you gifted him. he’d fidget with his ring and he’d think of you. ever since the night he told roger and bobby about you it feels like he’s back a year ago when you freshly left for california feeling incomplete without you, unbeknownst to when you’d retuen, wondering if you got his letter or if you wrote back to him.

your heart pounds in your chest as you walk with joyce towards the hall, her arm laced with yours. your heart races, full of emotion. memories of when you last saw don flooding your mind, you couldn’t wait to see him. you were nervous he wasn’t going to recognize you, it had been a year since you saw him and you weren’t sure if you look the same you did when you left, what if he didn’t feel the same way anymore after seeing you? what if he regrets waiting for you after a year of being apart? what if— as if she could sense your overwhelming nerves, joyce immediately assures you— insisting that don is gonna be elated to see you, especially after a big win. what worried you was the fact that you had sent him a letter, unveiling your news that you were coming up to washington. you were unsure if he’s received it yet and it drags your heart at the thought of him reading the letter and not caring; content with having a life of his own away from you. he would he awaiting your arrival wouldn’t he? looking for you. but there was no news up the grapevine about him from the passing hours as you got ready in joyce’s dorm but if you didn’t find out for yourself you’d never know. you can hear the music grow louder as you get closer, excitement bubbles as joyce squeals skipping towards the hall with you in tow, already feeling the warmth from the hall.

at the doorway is a tall blonde with his eyes fixed on your short haired friend, you look at her and see a faint flush on her cheeks. unlocking your arms she walks a few steps ahead greeting the man with a hug. standing a bit awkwardly before them as they speak, a mere moment later she turns around gesturing you over. from there you meet joe, the man she mentioned earlier during your first interaction. she introduces you fondly as a new friend, locking arms as she leans against you. she continues to tell joe how you’re visiting from california and she’s love to introduce you to the boys. joe has a hesitant look on his face, as much as he wasn’t opposed to the idea, he knew the boys would eat up a pretty face like yours without the slightest bit of hesitation. he wasn’t convinced from her persuasion but the look she gives him? how could he say no to her? heaving a small sigh, the blonde nods. further exchanging pleasantries as he tries to get to know you a bit better before gesturing for the two of you to walk inside, him following behind. you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you walk into the bustling room, eyes instinctively scanning for don. your heart skips a beat when you finally spot him, sitting alone at a table. he looks even more handsome than you remember, you’ve never seen him in a suit before and he looks better than you could ever imagine. breath catching in your throat as you realize this is actually happening, the man you've missed so dearly, the one you've been yearning for since you moved to california. you’re so close to being in his arms again, in his presence again. before you can take in more of the lively atmosphere, joyce is dragging you to the refreshment table. you weren’t sure what she had in mind, she hadn’t told you anything beforehand and you were dying to know. she guiltily admits to you how unsure she is about her plan, though there wasn’t much to it in the first place. you immediately reassure her that whatever happens, you appreciate her effort, without her your surprise reunion with your lover could have gone completely differently.

don doesn’t know why or how but he feels as if you’re here, somewhere (his spidey senses are tingling) especially when joe had them gathered so closely, being sandwiched between roger and bobby as they all ask whats going on. joe casually relays that joyce had someone she wanted to introduce to them, making the advanced effort to note that the person is a girl. the group suddenly becomes boisterous and are quick to fix their suits and appearances. don has half the mind to entertain the thought the the person is you, though he thinks you would come straight to him if that were the case, so he makes himself comfortable sat down with his hands in his pockets awaiting their new guest- ready to watch what’s to come.

your heart flutters with nerves, as joyce tries are best to calm you down. there was only so much she could stall and soon joe approaches the two of you stating how impatient and restless the guys were, your mind is in a frenzy now trying to imagine how seeing him again will be, what you’ll say, how he’ll react. it overwhelmed you so, wringing hands and deep breaths as you gather yourself. it was now or never.

you pass through the throng of people, the atmosphere is charged with an electric energy, a complete contrast of the feelings that consumed you as joyce holds your hand comfortingly through the crows. joe walks ahead, gathering the boys as you approach them. trying your best to hide behind the small frame of joyce. for a moment don thinks he’s right, eyeing the girl standing behind joe’s girlfriend, as the boys stand ready to impressed. he also thinks he’s become delusional drowning in the thought of you— he can’t see the person well but with her frame peaking from joyce it makes him think its you, he tries to deny the thought in his head— trying to not physical head palm himself at such a stretch.

clearing her throat, joyce speaks “i made a friend from california and i just wanted to introduce her to the team that beat hers.” a small wave in her voice, seeingas don snaps his attention to her as she silently hopes she does this right. her words cause an immediate stir in the boys, ready to impress with their chests puffed. roger and bobby immediately share a look before looking down at their friend who’s now sat upright and at attention.

it can’t be…

you feel your hands tremor and a slight ring in your ears as your friend speaks but you can’t help the surge of adrenaline that runs through you knowing at any moment you will be face to face with your lover.

you feel a tug on your hand and soon enough you’re faced in front of your boyfriend among a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“this is y/n.”

before any of the boys can approach you, the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floor causes a pause through the group. turning their attention they see don stood up, eyes wide. all at once it feels as if time begins to slow, you’re stood before him looking beautiful as ever, like an angel sent from heaven. he feels like he’s dreaming— as if at any given moment he’ll be woken up from a painfully realistic dream. it isn’t until he feels a pat on his back, he breaks his gaze. looking over at roger who whispers a ‘lucky man’ with a giddy smile on his face. bobby and roger pass you last, having a small conversation with you telling you how you have a good eye for jewelry and realization on that you’re actually real, the locket on your neck further proving that. the group moves else where but close enough to see the lovers reunite.

his gaze is back on you, unbelieving the sight before him, you’re actually here— standing in front of you him with a wide smile on your face. you slowly walk towards him, meeting him until your inches apart. your hands comfortingly grasping his hands, thumb grazing his ring. you eyes take in his features that matured from the time you were away, he does the same drinking in the sight of you— guess his feeling wasn’t wrong. you were afraid he wouldn’t recognize you or look at you the same the same way he did before but the loving gaze is still strong through his iris’

"you're quiet. do i look bad?" trying to break the ice, words unsaid whilst you took in the sights of each other. you missed him more than you can recount, now that he’s in your hands again you cannot imagine being apart now.

"no. no, god, no.” shaking his head, gathering himself ”you left me speechless. in a good way, of course." (prompt from @novelbear) he would have never thought you could leave him speechless in a way you did now, looking breathtaking under the warm lighting of the hall, a soft laugh leaving you before giving his hands a gentle squeeze. your nerves dissipates into comfort as you look at him, a sudden wave of emotions coming over you. tears wake at your waterline and chin trembling as you look at your lover, your hand moving to his cheek caressing it gently— all your worries and doubts disappearing, grateful to whatever being upon the universe that brought you together again. don immediately noticing your change of emotion and he pulls you into a tight but comforting hug. the rest of the world fades away as you share that familiar embrace, the connection you once thought lost rekindling in an instant. your arms tightly around his neck, as his rest on your waist and a hand soothing at your back. he tries his best to hold back tears of his own as you softly sob into his blazer jumbled out “i missed yous” between hiccups and sniffles, he softly hushes you, comforting you the best way he can as he tries to keep it together but all at the same time reciprocating the same words to you like a soft lullaby letting your crying subside. you part from the crook of his neck, eyes puffy and tear stricken cheeks. staring down sheepishly at your sudden outburst. don takes it with open arms, grasping your face as he wipes the tears away and tucks fallen hairs from your face. so glad to have you back in his arms again.

“so, were you surprised?” you ask, straightening yourself up acting as if nothing happened— brushing your hair to your back as your hands go to fix his blazer, hand lovingly gracing his tie, evening the two pieces together. he looks at you with a crooked smile—

“surprised? honey you blew me away.” mimicking the way someone would be blown away from strong wind. his effort of making you laugh fruitful, as you giggle with hand coming to cover your mouth.

“but seriously, i’ve missed you so much. there wasn’t a day where i didn’t think of you, you’re the reason i tried out for the team..” his words coming out soft and sincere, standing close to you again. your heart swelled at his words, looking up at him with loving eyes. all while finding the words to describe how much you missed him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you when i was in cal, adjusting to the school was difficult; i felt like it would’ve been so much easier if you were there with me… i struggled so much but eventually i fell into a routine that felt empty because you weren’t in it. that’s why i came up to visit you; i didn’t mean for it to be a surprise— i wrote to you about it but judging by your reaction you haven’t received it yet.” don processes your words, thinking how the week has been so busy that he hadn’t had the time to go to the mail room to check for any response from you. you can see in his eyes a shade of guilt swirling through them, comfortingly you run a hand over his chest. grounding him. “but regardless, surprise or not. i’m happy to be with you again and to see you win.” you gleam, now filled with pride, squeezing his bicep gently. don flushes at the thought of you watching him win, in such tight and little clothing as well. you tease him about how much fitter he’s gotten and how he must give you a personal lesson on rowing soon. cooing at his flushed cheeks with proud words of praise as he thinks of taking you on a boat ride before you leave, when you leave.

“how long are you staying?” his face falling a bit but you lighten up.

“well… if you read my letter you’d know i’m transferring here as of next semester.” you say proudly, biting at your lip as you await his reaction. you watch as he tilts his head, a breathless chuckle of disbelief leaving him. then suddenly he wraps his arms around you, twirling you in his grasp making you squeal in surprise. he puts you down before pressing his lips to yours before you can catch your breath, chaste and content but relayed feelings and emotions not expressed through words said.

“you’re not joking right?” praying this wasn’t just some sick joke you were playing to get a rouse out of him, you wouldn’t do that to him right? the moment you shake your head no as a massive smile graces your face, he swears he’s never been happier. nothing could damper his mood, not even the words you said next.

“i’m staying for 2 more weeks starting today before i leave back to cal. but we’ll only be apart for a few more months before the semester starts again.”

he was elated at the news, once again pulling you into a content embrace telling you a few months was nothing. it was only a few months, if he could get through a year he could get pass a few months.

well, he better make the most of the two weeks then.

the rest of the night plays in a high note as you and don join the rest of the group, them getting to know the lover don had been hiding from them. bobby and roger seemingly more interested in the stories you told of don before college, even the most embarrassing ones and eventually convincing him to play a song other than the washington fight song when the party had died down, instead playing the lighthearted tune of cheek to cheek ( the original version was released during the 1930s but feel free to reference the sinatra version :] ) with soft hums of singing along as he plays. he watches as his friends dance on the floor beneath him, ever so often looking at you— watching him from the height of the piano, eyes full of love with your chin resting in your hand. content as ever.

the other half of his heart came back to him and he couldn’t be happier.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#the long awaited part two!!!! #im so happy with how this came out #i really hope you all enjoy this as much as i did #(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠) the boys in the boat #the boys in the boat #don hume #the boys in the boat imagines #the boys in the boat fanfiction #don hume imagines #don hume x reader #don hume fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #jack mulhern

[joonberriess]

⊹₊ ⋆ “i just can’t wait for love to destroy us,”

TAGS — praise kink, soft smut, lazy sex, rough sex, jealousy, POSSESSIVE JK HEHE, lots of dirty talk, breeding kink, creampies, daddy kink, it’s really soft :(

WORD COUNT — 4.2 k

BEFORE…

You never thought you’d find yourself in a position where your first serious relationship was someone twice your age and was old enough to be your father. If you would have told the fifteen year old you that your love interests derived from your daddy issues she would have looked at you like you were insane. You still had a bit of trouble believing your case.

It wasn’t that you regretted getting into a relationship with Jungkook, quite the contrary, he was everything you could ever ask for. Besides, it was a guilty pleasure of yours whenever you thought about the circumstances of your relationship with the latter. The fact that he was older and the relationship taboo made it all more exciting for you.

However the thing that excited you more was Jungkook’s possessive streak and jealousy. Jungkook knew the game given that he had done it himself when he was your age and messing with girls, and one thing he disliked was the amount of boys who were after you. You were a pretty little thing it was obvious you’d have suitors here and there chasing after you.

You paid them no mind like you always did even before Jungkook. Whenever another guy approached, flirted, or even dared to look your way Jungkook sure as hell did not appreciate any of that. The first time it happened Jungkook made sure to fuck you so good the only thing you could think about was him, him, him. The more jealous he was the rougher the sex.

He’d say things like “Can’t have my baby running off with those nasty boys,” everytime he was in one of his moods. You secretly loved how possessive he was over you, making sure to leave dark hickeys on your neck and if he was feeling bolder, he left them down your thighs for the world to see whenever you wore those pretty little skirts.

His words were one-hundred times more filthier when he was fucking you like no tomorrow. His hips would be snapping harshly into yours over and over again, with him pinning you to the bed. Jungkook has his face tucked away in the crook of your neck while he tightens his grip on your hips. A soft low growl leaves him when he suddenly recalls how that stupid guy had the audacity to cat call you and even boldly ask for your number in front of “your old man”.

“Bet he wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this sweetheart,” he rasps in your ear, “you need a man to fuck you, ain’t that right baby?” He hits a particular spot inside of you, causing a tiny whine to escape, “Gonna have to ruin this little pussy so next time you even think about anyone else you remember how good I fucked you.” He teasingly nips at your neck.

Jungkook didn’t talk about it much but it was obvious he was a tad bit insecure over the age-gap with you. You were young, he was older, and without a doubt you still had the world to explore. He didn’t want to be the reason you stopped all of that just for him, sometimes he felt like it was going too fast for you. You thought otherwise.

Hani wondered a lot too about your interests in guys from campus. She asked a lot too. “Sooo are we going to ignore the obvious elephant in the room?” She elbows you with a soft smirk, “I mean I can’t be the only one who saw that back there?”

You hold your books tighter against your chest and side-eye, upon seeing her little shit-eating grin you roll your eyes, “Jesus Hani,” you whisper shaking your head, “it’s nothing, I don’t even know him like that. Stop..!” You smack her arm, watching her laugh loudly, “I’m not interested in him or anyone here for the matter of fact.”

“Really..?” Hani snorts, “So you like no one, you sure about that? Or is there something you’re not telling me? Cause there’s no way I just watched you reject that cutie back there.” She grins, poking your side, “Ooh I get it, you like someone from somewhere else don’t you?”

“Hani!” You giggle, “Stop, I’m not going to tell you who it is..!”

“So there is someone!” She squeals, wrapping her arms around you and happily leading you off to the parking lot, “Awww how cute, do you really like him a lot? Is he super nice and handsome? Do you guys go out on dates??” She rambles off.

You shyly smile at her and nod, “We do Hani, and yes he’s super nice and handsome like you say. I really like him a lot, he makes me happy, you know?” You softly say.

“Damn, and he doesn’t worry at all? You’re quite the catch girl, if I were him I’d be thinking ‘bout you twenty-four seven. The long distance doesn’t make him sad and stuff?” She softly pouts.

You shake your head, “No not really. I talk with him a lot and we hang out sometimes when I’m not busy with work or class. It’s all good if I’m being honest Hani.” You trail off, mind wandering to other things.

“Gonna make sure all those little boys know who the fuck I am sweetheart, hm? Go on and tell daddy who you belong to?”

Heat spreads all over your body as you silently check out, not really paying attention to a word Hani is saying to you. Hani is rambling that’s for sure, but you’re so lost in your obscene thoughts you pray she doesn’t notice you subtly rubbing your thighs together. Did the weather recently get hotter or was it just you..?

“There you go, you look so good taking me like that baby.. Go on, show daddy how much you love my cock.”

“y/n!” Hani yells, “Are you even listening to me?” She pouts.

You snap out of your thoughts and turn to her, “I’m sorry, what were you saying? I kinda spaced out.” You chuckle nervously, embarrassed she caught you in the throes of your daydreams.

“I asked if you wanted to get some lunch? On me,” she smiles gently as she unlocks the car, “sometimes I wonder what goes on in your pretty little head.” She chuckles, slipping into the driver seat.

You blink slowly, still a little dazed but you mumble “ ‘s nothing really.” and then slip into the car. You spend the rest of the car ride thinking about Jungkook..

+

NOW..

Jungkook hadn’t left you alone after finding out you were pregnant and you were terrified he was going to slip up and Hani would find out. Of course you didn’t mind his clinginess since you had spent a good week to yourself in fear, terrified about how he’d react to the pregnancy and whether or not he would accept it. Right now you felt like you could use the comfort and closeness he had to offer.

“Fuck I haven’t felt like this since I found out about Hani years ago.” Jungkook murmurs one night when you’re both laying in bed together. Hani was out for the weekend since she was traveling down to meet her mom somewhere for a girl’s weekend. “I don’t know how to feel, but I am happy that’s for sure.” He grins softly, rubbing over your tummy.

You timidly smile back at him and nuzzle closer, “I’m a little nervous but I think I’ll feel better once I’m closer to giving birth and stuff.” You softly murmur and play with Jungkook’s necklace.

Jungkook gently settles his hand over your hip and squeezes, “Are you hungry baby? I don’t remember much about pregnancy and stuff but how’s the morning sickness? Cravings?” He smoothly rubs his hand over you with a lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

You shrug, “The morning sickness is dying down, it isn’t as bad as before.. And well I don’t know about my cravings, I wanna eat a lot of weird things but they’re embarrassing to talk about.” You quietly huff, angrily pouting as you avoid his gaze.

Jungkook snorts softly, “Weird? There’s no such thing as weird baby, tell me one of your cravings. Let me hear how “weird” it is.”

“I like to eat pickles dipped in strawberry yogurt. Sometimes I even go to those convenience stores and buy pizza rolls to eat with peanut butter, oh and I really love to eat the chicken Hani brings dipped in honey!” You smile innocently, “ ‘s the baby to be honest, they’re the ones making me eat all this weird stuff.”

Jungkook’s shoulders begin to shake and you pout, “You just told me there’s no such thing as weird, why are you laughing?” You huff, “Hey..! Stop laughing at me.” You whine.

“I’m sorry baby but you’re so fucking cute, lookin’ so proud of yourself..” He chuckles, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, “I can picture it now, pickles and peanut butter covered nuggets.”

Your eyes widen, “I didn’t think of it like that, wow… so cool..” You trail off, mouth watering already as Jungkook laughs in the background.

Hani doesn’t come back until the end of the weekend, and you certainly took advantage of it. Jungkook and you fucked like rabbits all over the house, being as loud as you wanted given that there was no one around. It felt nice not having to stay quiet or on alert during sex.

The night Hani returned she had stated she was too tired to even shower, opting to say goodnight to you and Jungkook as she went upstairs to her room. You were planning on going to your own room to sleep in but Jungkook’s sultry gaze said another thing. You ended up following him to his room as quietly as possible, hoping Hani stayed knocked out for the rest of the night.

One thing led to another and you two had a quickie before bed. You went to bed sleeping like a baby, happily satisfied after being fucked thoroughly. Jungkook slept with an arm around your waist, faced tucked away in your neck as he breathed your strawberry scent in. You had gone to bed in one of his shirts with only your panties underneath.

All was peaceful until about two am when your bleary eyes opened after feeling Jungkook’s hand creep up the shirt to gently massage your sore tit in his big hand. Jungkook was half-awake, grumbling quietly as he tried to pull you in closer. At first you thought he was sleep groping you but then you felt his hard throbbing cock pressed up against your thigh through his boxers.

“.. Jungkook?” You murmur, turning on your side to face him as you cup his cheek.

He nuzzles into your hand and hums, “Yeah..?”

You gently peck his lips three times, each little kiss lasting longer than the last one, “Can feel you.” You softly say.

He lazily rolls his hips against yours and slithers his hand out from under the shirt, instead choosing to grip your hip. “Can you?” He has a coy sleepy smile, “Maybe we should do something about it?” His voice is husky and rough from sleep, his eyes flutter open and he looks at you with want and lust.

You eagerly press against him, tossing your leg over his hip and trying to grind yourself against his cock. “Please,” you bite your lip, all drowsiness slowly leaving your body.

Jungkook leans over to bring you into a slow but deep kiss, “I got you baby, let daddy do all the work.” He says and begins tugging your panties down your thighs.

You tuck your face in the crook of his neck and suck on the soft patch of skin while he blindly reaches over for the lube that sits on the nightstand. You hear the sound of the cap opening and Jungkook lathering some lube between his fingertips. Your breath hitches in excitement, hooking your thigh over his hip firmly to make sure he has enough space to fit his fingers, and then his cock in.

Jungkook doesn’t bother with slipping his sweatpants all the way down, cock slapping against his stomach as it springs out of its confinement. He hisses low and strokes over his throbbing cock, making sure to coat it in the lube before he presses the tip between your soft folds.

“Gonna fuck you pretty girl.” He whispers.

Your lips part as a breathy moan escapes, hips twitching as his cock fills your cunt to the brim. There’s an audible squelch in the background and then a wet slap following in suit when he bottoms out. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

He draws another moan from you when he ruts against you slowly, cock pressing in deep. Jungkook groans softly, hand tightening around your hip in effort to hold himself back from fucking into you roughly. He starts up at a slower and lazier pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of your soft pussy wrapped around his cock.

You wrap a hand around the back of his neck, playing with his hair as he gently fucks into you. Soft little moans leave you here and there, the squelching gets louder as your pussy drools over his cock. Pleasure bubbles up in your tummy, adding to the heat you feel deep inside. Jungkook’s hitting every spot that leaves you quivering underneath him.

“So good for me,” he moans out, “can feel you gripping me so good baby.” He pants hotly against your lips.

You let out a long moan and your eyes fluttered shut as your pussy clamped down on his cock. His hips stuttered in their movements, a gasp escaping him while he weakly snapped his hips upwards. You reached down to rub fast small circles onto your clit, whining and moaning breathlessly because your orgasm is rapidly building up, you’re definitely going to be sleeping well after this.

“Cum for me baby, make a mess on daddy’s cock.” He rasps out, hips kicking forward faster and faster.

There’s audible wet slaps, the bed creaks lightly from the force and Jungkook’s groaning becomes louder. You manage to muffle your cry as you bury your face away in his neck, gripping him tightly and letting go. Your cunt gushes around his cock, making a mess alongside the lube he had already lathered on his cock. The sound is fucking filthy and your lower half is soaked from your slick.

He mutters curses under his breath, hips slamming forward until he stills, roughly pressing up against you and making sure his cock is buried deep while he cums. “Fuckkkk,” he whispers out contentedly. Cleanup is a fairly quiet ordeal and you end up going back to sleep in his arms.

The next morning after Jungkook leaves for work, you make your way downstairs with a tired sigh. You had made sure to wear your own pajamas because Hani was home for the day since she had no classes nor work. Hani was in the kitchen cooking something, humming under her breath as she sang some new song you heard on the radio.

“Oh, hey,” she smiles brightly at you, “just in time I made us some breakfast,” she showed you the pan full of hot food, “did you sleep well?”

You nod slowly, “I woke up like once because I had to puke but it wasn’t too bad, how about you?” You take a seat on the stool by the kitchen island, licking your lips hungrily as she serves you a portion of what she had made.

“Could have been better, I heard dad last night. I didn’t think he had it in him still but I stand corrected.” She laughs, shaking her head, “Like Jesus did he sleep with a vampire? His neck was all bruised up this morning!”

Your blood runs cold, you stare at the food trying not to show your obvious guilt and nervousness. Hani luckily turns her back to you as she opens the fridge in search of some juice, “That’s good though, dad rarely goes out these days so I’m sure last night was like something magical for him.” She snorts.

“Yeah,” you trail off, “magical.”

+

Growing up in a somewhat conservative home altered your mind as an adult, not by a lot but some things stuck with you. It primarily had to do with the fact that you were so desperate for your parents’ approval you were willing to change everything about yourself to fit their standards. It wasn’t until Hani broke you out of the cycle that you started thinking more about what you liked and wanted to try.

Although you were still a tad bit shy, you were more eager to try new things. That’s how you found yourself at a lingerie store, nervously clutching your bag around your body as you slowly stepped in. The store obviously had its sections to choose from, but this was all too new for you. It was quite overwhelming.

You timidly looked around and eyed the different displays showing off the raunchy designs, some downright scandalous and others simple and dainty. Your mind was racing and it was too much to take in and you began thinking it was a bad idea after all. As you turned to walk back out, a worker called out to you.

“Are you finding everything alright Miss?” She smiles warmly.

“Oh, uh, yeah I’m fine,” you nervously squeak out, “just browsing is all..”

“Are you looking for anything in particular? Need a bra size check?” She holds up her measuring tape.

You chew on your bottom lip and look around again, “I actually came to get something to surprise my boyfriend with.” You admit softly, “It’s my first time so I don’t really know what is.. Good?”

She chuckles softly, “Well we have a lot of new sets and designs that just came in about a week ago, can I show you? Besides, it’s not about what’s “good” it’s about what you like.” She ends up showing you a whole collection of pretty and dainty lingerie sets, not too raunchy but not too innocent either.

In the end you go with a pastel baby pink set which is really just a bra, cheeky panties, and a garter set. You buy the stockings to go along with it and take your purchase with you home. You’re excited, practically bouncing in happiness as you reach home and start to get ready.

You take your time showering and then preparing afterwards, lathering yourself in lotions and oils. At first you kind of don’t know how to put the garter belt on and then it turns into you struggling with the stockings. When you finally finish the look you’re left sitting in your bed tired, “Damn, this is harder than I imagined.” You sighed.

You stand up after a couple of minutes and head over to your mirror, gasping quietly at the sight of you. The panties cup your ass perfectly, both cheeks sitting so pretty and your tits cupped in the silk bra. Something about the garter belt makes you flush in excitement and arousal. You must admit that you look fucking hot in the lingerie set.

“I wonder if he’s on his way..” You mumble, going to check your phone for any new messages from Jungkook.

jungkookkk<3 : on my way, i stopped by to pick up some lunch for us.

You bite your lip and send him a quick text saying you’d be in his room waiting for him then. It doesn’t take long for him to come, you’re laying in his bed trying to calm your nerves and excitement. “Baby I’m home!” You hear him toss his keys into the bowl and shuffle around in the foyer and then kitchen.

“Up here,” you call back, leaning back on your elbows and raising your leg in the direction of the door as you pretend to admire your stocking clad thighs.

Jungkook appears a few minutes later, he’s talking about something that he saw on his way over when he suddenly stops in his tracks. His eyes widen and jaw goes slack, standing there as he admires your lingerie clad form. “Jesus…” he whispers, bag falling from his hand, “When did you get this?”

You smile softly, “Today.. I wanted to surprise you,” you teasingly spread your legs, “do you like it daddy?” You say in an innocent tone, a coy smile on your lips.

He loosens his tie and eyes you up and down, “Like it? Baby I fucking love it.” He slams the door shut and locks it behind him as he stalks forward like a predator, “You’re so fucking sexy, sitting there like you did nothing wrong. You could make a grown ass man cry sweetheart,” he climbs over you, gently pushing you back on to the bed, “Aren’t I the luckiest fucking bastard.” He smirks.

You bite your lip and look up at him, “Aren’t you gonna show me how much you love it daddy?” You wrap an arm around his neck, “I got all dolled up for you.”

Jungkook groans at that, “All for me baby?” When you nod in response he leans down to leave a flutter of kisses up your chest and neck, “Fuck you’re driving me crazy, just the thought of any other motherfucker seeing you like this pisses me off.” He growls, “No one else can have you isn’t that right baby? Who does this pussy belong to?”

You eagerly bring him down for a kiss, “You daddy,” you softly whisper against his lips, “ ‘s why I’m pregnant, cause you bred me well.”

Jungkook moans at that, his hands stop to hover over your tummy as he gently presses down and rubs it slowly, “Fuck,” he whispers, “my pretty little mama,” A quiet mewl leaves your lips when he calls you that and he chuckles, “oh you like that don’t you?” When you nod, he decides to take pity on you, “I’m gonna give you what you need baby,”

And that he does..

Jungkook takes his sweet time, eating you like you’re his last meal on this earth. He has you begging and sobbing for more because of how overstimulating it is as he fucks his tongue in and out of you. Jungkook fingers you gently, stroking over your g-spot over and over again until you’re squirting all over him.

When he deems you wet enough (as if he didn’t fingerfuck you into oblivion) he fucks you. You babble against his lips about how you can take him, how you want him to fuck you harder and not hold back. Jungkook hesitates but when you begin to grind on him desperately he loses all sense of control he thought he had.

Jungkook fucks into you harder, hips slamming into yours over and over again. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the squelching of your pussy ring through both ears. You lie there helplessly taking it as moans and whimpers flow out. You can barely feel your thighs, your poor clit is trapped between you and him, rubbing up against his pelvis sorely.

“Fuck,” Jungkook pants from the effort, hips rolling quickly and roughly, nearly sending you up the bed and towards the headboard. “So fucking sloppy for me.” He grits his teeth.

His cock throbs weakly inside of you as he goes on and on about how sexy you look for him in the lingerie set, “So glad I was the one to put a baby in you,” he slurs out, “you’re gonna look so fucking beautiful full of our child. Everyone’s gonna know I bred you so well,” he leans down to mouth at your nipple, “you’re mine sweetheart.”

You cry out weakly when he begins aiming his thrusts to hit your g-spot with every thrust he lands on you. Your toes curl in pleasure and you weakly grab at his shoulders to steady yourself. “Jungkook..!” You sob out, “ ‘m yours..! Yours..!” You moan out, back arching off the bed.

You grit your teeth in pleasure and throw your head back, “S-So close,” you croak, “gonna cum..” Your vision is blurred by the tears of pleasure forming in your eyes.

Jungkook reaches down below you two to rub his skilled fingers against your clit, “Go on then, cum for me,” he growls out.

It only takes a couple more swipes for you to cum, a silent cry leaving you as your hands grip his shoulders tightly. Your pussy squirts around his cock, leaving you breathless and shaking from the pleasure. Jungkook seems surprised you squirt on him but it doesn’t deter him. He keeps pushing you, until you’re sobbing that it’s too much.

He lets out a long moan when he cums, pressing in as he holds you tight and makes sure you don’t move so as to not waste a single drop of his cum. It’s messy down below but he doesn’t have the energy to get up. Neither do you, in fact you end up lying there trying to catch your breath.

“Hey.” He softly whispers and turns to face you.

“Hi..” You croak out.

“I love you.” He smiles tiredly.

Your eyes well with tears and you smile back, “..I love you too.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

[gl1tteryzebra]

I had a very pleasant interaction with a cute blonde-headed mechanic recently, now all I can think about is mechanic!jj...

the patchy sliver of shade provided by a low hanging loblolly offered a small reprieve from the heat. jj's signature collared shirt was now hanging open as he tinkered away beneath the bonnet of your car – that was how you knew it was truly sweltering.

it was a miracle you'd been able to rummage that half torn napkin from the depths of your centre console. after your engine stuttered to a stop on the side of some desolate road you were certain you were screwed– 6pm on a sunday night, even if you did manage to coax someone out to wherever you were, the rates would surely plummet your bank account into a state of despair– and then you remembered.

a few months back when you last had car trouble, the blonde slid a crumby piece of tissue across the till at his workshop with a wink, a number scribbled in blotchy red ink.

"you should really invest in a business card." you'd said with a grimace as remnants of whatever he'd been eating drifted down like heavy snowflakes.

" uh–well actually," he reached into his breast pocket, removing a wad of neatly stacked cards bound together by an elastic band. "we're one step ahead of you, sugar."

he passed one of the sleek black cards over as well, albeit a little reluctantly."what's this for then?" you inquired with furrowed brows and he laughed at that, genuinely tickled.

"oh that— that's just in case you're ever in need of my personal assistance."

and it was almost as though today was his manifestation coming too fruition.

off in the distance, through the thicket and beyond the marsh, remnants of daylight peeked over the horizon like a fragile yolk ready to spill into darkness at any moment. you wanted nothing more than to be tucked into bed with a warm cup of tea and your favourite book, but whatever was wrong with your car seemed to not be a simple fix.

patting down the pleats of your skirt, you paced leisurely back and forth before eventually clearing your throat. "how's she looking?"

"she?" his blonde head peeked out from behind the hunk of metal, interest glistening in those pale blue orbs.

"yeah, pinkie. are you telling me you don't name your beloved vehicle?" (the vehicle in question: his beaten up honda CRF 230 which currently laid discarded in a pothole with an open tool box spilling its content onto the side of the road.)

he snickered, removing his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "guess you got me there– that's bessie, the finest lass on the road."

you scoffed, "why bessie of all things?"

"oh-kay, there's no way I'll be judged by someone who named their car pinkie...and its not even pink."

"it wasn't available at the time!"

his lips tugged into a downward crescent, mocking your face as it contoured into an earnest pout. "now that's a true tragedy– oh, 'n you happen to go through a car wash recently?"

"uh–yeah. today actually, why?"

"welllll you got water stuck in the engine cylinders, blocking up the emission control system. it got real stinky in the cabin right?"

"yeah it did, almost as bad as a guys locker room."

"ha! sounds 'bout right," his ring clad fingers reached above his head to pull the bonnet down. your eyes naturally drifted to his exposed midriff; lean muscles stretching taut, flecks of sun damage marring his pale skin, a defined v dipping below his waistline...

snapping out of your stupor, your gaze lifted to be met with a knowing smirk– shit. you were surprised when he didn't comment on the fact that you'd so shamelessly checked him out, but even more so as he rushed to pack up his tool box almost bashfully. "uh–so fancy this, I don't actually have the tools I need to fix it on me."

"really? I thought you said you kept everything you ever need on hand."

"huh–oh yeah, well one of the boys must've stolen my shit, bloody typical."

"right...what should I do then?" he flicked his grimy hair from his forehead, regarding you with an impish grin.

"come back to the shop. I'll get my guy to tow your pinkie in tonight, get 'er fixed up bright an' early in the mornin' so you can be on your merry way."

"it's not exactly close to my house–"

he shrugged, persistent as ever, "that's cool, no worries, we've got a couch and some blankets if you wanna stay the night."

"what about you?"

"well I can't risk a thief in the night, can I? best if I stay too."

you resisted the urge to snort, what an idiot. "how am I supposed to get back to your shop now though?"

his eyes spoke for themself, gesturing to his bike as is if that was a stupid question. "oh–no, no no no no no, no way." your hands wildly gesticulated. no, absolutely not. you knew enough about jj's reckless and impulsive nature to guess how this would present itself in other areas of his life– most of a concern to you in this moment, his driving.

"hey, there's need to be scared sugar, I always drive extra careful with precious cargo." he cut himself off with a boyish chuckle as your face morphed into something deeply unimpressed. "c'mon, it's not exactly like you have any other choice...so whadd'ya say?"

you settled onto the back of his bike with a grumble, hands shooting up to adjust the helmet he loaned you (his only helmet). the engine revved to an obnoxious start and with a shriek you hurried cling onto his waist– heart thumping erratically behind your ribs.

"comfy?"

"shut up."

"holdin' me a bit tight, sweetheart. sure you're not enjoying this?"

"shut. up."

his chest rumbled with laughter as he took off into the sunset.

~

couldn't be bothered to get down and dirty with this one tonight, think I might just make a pt.2

🎀 @seabunni 🎀

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank prompt #divider by @firefly-graphics #mechanic!jj #jj maybank x reader #want to write more about this #so if you have prompts send em in!! #especially smutty ones hehe #obx x reader

[luvxoxo]

Q. how does one get over their first love?

synopsis: asking jjk men personal questions that they have to answer honestly

part 2 of my: jujutsu kaisen interview series

includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Megumi, Yuji

Gojo: "over their first love?” he takes a moment to answer. It is a difficult question. he turns his head away, seeming a bit troubled. Gojo eventually smiles warmly and speaks up "sometimes, you don't. you hold on to that love your entire life, despite how much it may hurt. It's... a bit like a scar, don't you think? you never lose the physical reminder of their presence" he smiles "but, over time, that scar becomes a bittersweet memory. while there may be pain attached to it, there is also happiness. I don't think you'll ever truly get over your first love. you’ll always hold a place for them in your heart. you’ll always have hope that things will work out, that you'll get back together, etc. It may not seem like much of a consolation, but that's the truth. and it's far more meaningful than trying to forget about your first love. they shouldn't be forgotten at all, even by the passage of time"

Geto: he crosses his arms "that’s a rather tricky question" he’s quiet for awhile before answering "the best way to get over one's first love, in my opinion, is to realize that the 'first love' they had, was merely an experience, and does not define who they are or the future relationships they may have. It will take time and patience. a lot of it. time to heal and understand that it was the past and the future awaits to be written. patience is needed to wait for that future and not to dwell on past relationships"

Geto tucks a few strands of hair that managed to escape behind his ears. he speaks softly

"and, do be kind to yourself in this hard and tough journey. the path to love is never easy. no matter what others tell you"

Nanami: he takes a second to think and starts speaking in a slower, more contemplative tone. "getting over one's first love can be very difficult or very easy depending on the person. it is usually the first case. but at the same time, the person you first fell in love with can leave a mark and memory for the rest of one's life. this does not mean you should let this person hold you back from any of the other relationships, opportunities, etc, that may come. in other words, letting go and growing is an important step for your next stage in life. and again, life doesn’t really stop for anyone" he pauses to add on "it’s everyone’s first life. you’re human. you’ll heal. you’ll let go. you’ll be okay"

Toji: he rests his arms on the sofa and smirks "find someone new to love. duh. there are plenty of fish in the sea you know?"

hearing his response your eyes can't help but twitch in annoyance "pardon me?"

Toji exhales loudly, almost as if you're the one being difficult "alright I'll be serious. the first love is always the hardest, but it’s important to remember that it doesn’t always have to be that way. sometimes, the key is accepting that the relationship wasn't meant to be. sounds harsh but life’s even more harsh. sometimes, you have to let go of that first love so you can move on to something better"

you nod eagerly, urging him to not stop and finish his thoughts

"but don't be afraid to fall in love again. yes, it’s gonna hurt if it doesn’t work out, but if you’re always afraid of it happening, then you’ll never know if there was something better for you. just be sure to use your head before you decide to open your heart again"

Megumi: he blinks and ponders about the question deeply in his head "a first love is a difficult and complicated experience. It can be difficult to let go, especially after you've shared so many memories and experiences together. however, it's important to remember that even if the relationship didn't work out, that doesn't mean they weren't important or that you need to erase them from your mind. Instead, accept the situation for what it is and work on creating new bonds that can fill the void left after the breakup. It may take time and effort" he nods firmly "but eventually the pain from that first love will subside. and you’ll be alright"

Yuji: he grips his chin, thinking seriously "well, i guess you don’t really get over it. you learn to live with it. you learn to accept that things ended for a reason and that love isn’t something that’s meant to last forever most of the time. enjoy the time you have with the person you love, even if they aren’t the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. that love is a good memory to have, so don’t ruin it" he smiles before saying "and also? if they leave you? let them. you deserve someone who wants to stay. and will stay. dont let anyone make you think otherwise!"

ⓒ all rights reserved. don't plagiarize my work or translate it!

Reblogs are appreciated!!

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #itadori yuji #itadori yuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk season 2 #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jjk imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff

[john-get-the-salt]

Comfort (w/emily prentiss)

After having a rough case, all you want to do is cuddle with your (secret) girlfriend.

Contains: soft!reader just wanting comfort, secret relationship

Warnings: Brief mention of child death in a case but no detail

The case had been, to put it simply, rough. All child abductions were but this one had been particularly brutal. You caught the unsub, but only after 3 children had been killed.

It didn't help that lately you'd been thinking about kids, discussing the future possibility with your girlfriend. That made this case feel more personal than usual.

Speaking of your girlfriend, she was also taking the case outcome a bit hard. Ever since the two of you admitted to one another that you wanted to get married and have a child in the next couple years, she'd been extra sensitive to the topic.

She was currently sitting on the one couch on the jet, trying to drown herself with a book that was recommended by Spencer. You sat across the jet from her, trying to hold up your side of the conversation with JJ even as your eyes fluttered.

"You look exhausted," JJ said softly. "You should try and get some sleep before we land."

"Yeah....I think I will," you said with a yawn. You stood, stretching as you swept your eyes around the jet.

The team didn't know about you and Emily yet, which was certainly a hard secret to keep. The two of you were best friends, that much the team did know. They just didn't know that a couple months ago your friendship had bloomed into something else.

So as much as you wanted to go curl up on the couch beside her, you didn't want to risk any questions. So instead you opted to retreat to the corner of the jet, claiming a seat without anyone around. You tucked your legs underneath you and laid your head back on the head rest. When you finally let your eyes close it didn't take long for you to drift off.

•

"Hey……wake up."

You stirred as someone gently shook your shoulder. Slowly your eyes fluttered open, lids heavy with sleep.

Emily was in your immediate field of vision, her warm eyes fixed on you and filled with concern.

"You were crying your sleep."

Crying?  You could only faintly remember the dream you were having, it felt like it was already miles away. There was a child, a girl, who was calling out for you, calling out for her mom. But something had her, you couldn't keep her safe..... You remembered the fear more than anything, the helplessness.

As those feelings washed back over you your eyes welled up. You didn’t hesitate to reach up towards Emily, seeking her support.

She pulled you up out of the chair, letting you rest heavily on her as you were still half asleep.

"Do you want to come sit by me?"

You nodded, ignoring the concerned looks from the rest of the team.

Emily helped walk you over to the couch, sitting you down before taking her seat again beside you.

She picked her book back up and the jet had was quiet as your eyelids began to close again. You weren't quite conscious enough to think through what you were doing, all you knew was that your nightmare left you feeling scared and you needed comfort. So in your half asleep state you didn't hesitate to lay down and plop your head down on Emily's lap.

"Wha-," she spluttered, looking up at the bewildered team before back down to you in her lap. "Wait, the team-"

It didn't matter as your eyes were already closing again.

"Comfy, (y/n)?" Morgan's voice pulled you back from sleep again for another moment.

"Shhhhh," you murmured. "I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend."

And with that you finally fell back asleep, leaving Emily to deal with your shocked, and rather smug, team.

#emily prentiss #x reader #imagine #drabble #writing #fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau

[hearthotchner]

I can’t remember who wrote it but there was like some secret admirer writing hotch little notes blurb somewhere on this silly little app and I just need more of that content.

Like if reader doesn’t even work in the BAU they could even be like a cleaner or just someone that works in and around quantico with the BAU but they start writing hotch notes about how proud they are of him and what a lovely person he is, how his smile makes them feel warm and whatnot.

Maybe like very socially anxious reader idk but yeah they need him to know how great he is but just can’t spit the words out face to face

‘you have a pretty smile, you should do it more often. <3’

aaron felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks, shade matching the tiny piece of paper in his hands.

rossi appeared in the door, noticing him peering down at something, “what’s that?”

“nothing.” he said a bit too quickly, tucking the note into his blazer pocket.

“what’s it say? show me.” the older man persisted.

“no. go away, dave.”

he put his hands up in defeat, “fine, i’ll leave you alone. just thought i’d let you know, that your eye candy,” rossi smirked, “is standing outside.” he said, teasingly.

furrowing his brows, he feigned ignorance, “what are you talking about?”

“seriously?” rossi scoffed. “anyway, i actually wanted to tell about..”

dave’s voice drained out, and was replaced by the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. it took all of his pride to not snap his head toward your direction, not having it in him to prove his friend right.

aaron couldn’t make up his mind; he felt guilty about it. on one hand, the notes made him weak, a mess, but so did you.

that’s why he felt bad.

he’d never spoken to you, other than the occasional greeting when you were talking to morgan or jj — he knew nothing about you, hell, he didn’t even know what department you worked in, how could he possibly like you?

he was drawn to you, yet he didn’t know why.

granted, he knew nothing about the mystery person sending him the notes either, but he assumed they were an admirer, who couldn’t muster up the courage to ask him out in person. all he knew, was that those words made him melt.

pink pieces of paper would almost always be found in between the files that his team would send up to him to assess — he knew it wasn’t any of them, he recognised their handwriting.

everyday, his heart would beat a little faster out of anticipation for a note being left for him; whenever there was, it never failed to tinge his cheeks red.

looking over the bullpen, he gripped the rail a little tighter, as his frown deepened at the sound your voice filling the room. when your eyes met his from across the room, however, his features softened, for a split second, the inner conflict coming to peace.

he hoped he didn’t see any more of you for the rest of the week.

—

sometimes, he wondered if when he made a wish, the universe purposefully did the exact opposite of what he wanted.

the very next case they took on, was joint with the domestic terrorism division, which just so happened to be the team you worked with, shocker.

what made it worse, was that the notes appeared more often, for the duration of this case; there were so many people in and out of the bullpen, and, he was stressed enough as it was, so, looking out for his messenger was the least of his worries.

he tried to remain professional, for the sake of the case, but he couldn’t help but have his gaze trail over to you, while you worked from across the room.

this was wrong. you were probably dating someone, and aaron already had someone who was interested in him; even though, he had never seen them, he knew that when he did, the first thing he’d do was ask them out on a date. they never failed in making his day, making him smile, they made him feel warm inside. aaron hoped that one day, he’d be able to do the same.

picking up his coffee cup, he noticed that there was a neatly folded up post-it note on the table where it sat.

‘you’re great at your job :)’

instantly, his shoulders slumped, and he wasn’t as tense anymore. that was until he looked over at you, standing infront of the whiteboard, biting your lip and furrowing your brows in concentration as you wrote. turning his attention over to the actual words on the board, he felt his heart drop at the familiarity.

he recognised the way some of the letters or words were written in cursive, whilst others were separated, how your handwriting was fairly small, but the spaces between words were slightly large, how you always used half s’s, unless it was the first letter.

as his eyes flicked from the note to the board, you saw the look of realisation, “now that you know, how disappointed are you?”

he breathed out, “disappointed? you think i’m disappointed?”

“well kinda, yeah.” you replied meekly. “i thought you hated me.”

“what?“

“you’re always like.. frowning at me.. like the other day! you were literally glaring in my direction.” you admitted, “i’ve always had a little crush on you, and, i wanted you to know how great i think you are. but, it’s kinda difficult when you’re always looking at me like that.”

“i’m not- i didn’t mean to.” he sighed. “it’s completely the opposite of what you think. this whole time, i thought what i was feeling for you was wrong.” now it was your turn to be confused. “because i didn’t know i was falling for the same person twice.”

“what do you mean?”

“your notes. they’re the reason i feel genuine excitement for paperwork — the thought of finding them makes me so warm. seeing you, though, stole my breath away, and it felt so wrong — that i had feelings for you and note person — because i knew nothing about you, but at the same time, i felt like i’d known you my whole life.” he let out a breathy laugh at what he said next, “i probably looked mad, because i was frustrated with myself — my feelings.”

“oh.”

“i can’t blame you, though, can i? so, can i take you to dinner sometime?” he shot you a hopeful smile;

you mirrored his look, “you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

“likewise, sweetheart.”

never had he been more grateful that his wishes hadn’t been granted.

#if anyone asks the rapid jumping between note person and reader is completely intentional and reflects aaron’s indecisiveness #there’s a d&g scene in this 😭 #i did use my handwriting as reference ofc 🤧 #another fic i have mixed feelings about #i like it but i don’t #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[lavendersuh]

oh my, oh my god 단 너뿐이야

johnny x female reader | college!au, strangers to lovers | 3.9k words

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of alcohol and partying

after a much needed kpop hiatus, i am back and more delusional than ever :D i have so many ideas and wips rn... can't wait to share more with y'all! i would like to dedicate this fic to @sehunniepot bc nikki has been right there next to me in my delusion and been a huge motivation to get back into writing eeee i hope u enjoy!! *title is from "omg" by newjeans!!*

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oh my, oh my god, 예상했어 나

i was really hoping that he will come through...

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“Just go for it! If it goes horribly, you can blame being drunk and pretend it never happened at all!”

You looked back at your friend, grinning lazily at you from the couch she was perched on. She was a lot more extraverted than you in general, but with alcohol in her system? She was capable of anything.

You? You, you maybe not so much.

With another glance over at the man messing around with the sound system spreading music throughout the house, you saw he was deep in concentration. One hand typed on the laptop keyboard while the other held a red solo cup you assumed held some type of alcohol. His hair was falling in his face as he gazed at the screen, and he wore a shirt tucked into jeans. He looked good in those jeans. 

You flushed at the thought of going over to talk to him, but your friends seemed determined to encourage you to go for it. They had been on a long spiel about how you weren’t ever going to date anyone if you only waited around for others to make a move. You could make the first move! You just feared making a fool of yourself in front of someone you would see two days a week for the rest of the semester. 

Johnny Suh sat three rows behind you in your Monday-Wednesday English lecture, and he probably had to be the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. 

Okay, that was most likely an exaggeration, but he was a beautiful man. Tall, dark hair, and a good sense of style was the perfect combination for attraction to bloom. You felt giddy just thinking about him.

Too bad you didn’t really know anything about him other than the fact that he sat in the same seat every single week. 

He looked different in this atmosphere though. He seemed more relaxed, and since he was messing around with the music system like he knew exactly what he was doing even with a little alcohol in his system, you assumed he belonged to this frat and lived in this house. You had once seen him walk into class with a fraternity symbol across his sweatshirt, but you were never good at remembering what all those Greek symbols meant. 

While he looked more relaxed, seeing Johnny in a non-academic setting was also extremely intimidating. You were only a few drinks in, mildly tipsy at best, but the alcohol made you warm, and even the idea of not being sober gave you a little confidence. Maybe you could do this.

You could walk over there and make conversation. Get to know him. You could maybe even ask him out for coffee or lunch before class one day. Like your friend said, if things go south, you could always blame the alcoholic atmosphere of a Saturday night frat party. 

“Okay,” you said, as you watched your friends raise their eyebrows at you, “I’ll go do it. Maybe get me a drink just in case it doesn’t go well.” 

Your two friends cheered as you turned around to walk through the small crowd to Johnny. Moving around made you realize you were a little more drunk than you had thought while sitting down, but you were determined at this point. The alcohol would hopefully make you a little loose, break you out of your shell a little bit. 

Johnny took a drink from his red cup as he surveyed the upcoming queued songs for the next hour. Once you were only a few steps away from him, you slowed down as your nerves kicked into high gear. There was a pang of anxiety that shot through your chest at the thought of actually talking to him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. 

You were three seconds from turning around when his gaze found yours. You must have looked like a deer in headlights in the dimly illuminated air of the frat house, but getting noticed gave you a little spike of determination.

“Hey,” you spoke up as you stepped a little closer, “Johnny, right?” Not the best start, but at least it was something.

“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a slightly suspicious look. It made you realize he probably had no clue who the fuck you were. There were over a hundred people in your class, and it was actually extremely likely that he had never noticed you before.

The alcohol running warm in your veins kept you going though. “I’m Y/N. We’re in the same English class.” 

You offered up a small smile, hoping you don’t seem weird as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. His eyes changed a little and you could tell that he at least recognized the academic correlation.

“Oh, hi.” 

It was clear that he was still sort of lost on why you were talking to him. You knew you needed to play it off to lessen the damage and actually attempt to make a conversation out of this interaction. He was just so nice-looking, it made you sort of just want to stare at him in admiration for the rest of the night.

“Um, sorry I came up to you, I don’t normally do this,” you explained to him, “I’ve just seen you around, and I’m a few drinks in, and my friends told me to stop waiting for shitty dudes to approach me— I should go up to them; it's a whole thing.”

You knew you had a tendency to ramble sometimes, but at least you were talking— at least something was happening. You reminded yourself that talking about something, anything, was better than just being silent. 

The only issue was, rambling was not the best way to communicate.

“Are you calling me a shitty dude?” he asked, giving you a raised brow.

The panic settled in, and you knew your eyes grew wide from how he was looking at you right now. It only lasted a moment before his face broke out into a lighthearted grin.

“I’m just joking around,” he stated, tucking his hands into his jeans, “So what’s this ‘whole thing’ about the shitty guys anyways?”

You were flooded with relief that he was only kidding around, and also that you might actually have a chance at a conversation, no matter how strange it was.

“Oh, well I haven’t really dated anyone for that long, and it's because I always date the dudes that approach me, and I’m never attracted to any of them. So it never goes anywhere,” you explained in what was most likely too much detail. “My one friend saw this TikTok that was like, you need to go up to people you like if you want to be with someone you’re actually attracted to.”

“So… you’re attracted to me?” Johnny replied.

You felt yourself tense at his words, finding yourself flustered under his gaze that had suddenly become a bit more intense than you had remembered it being a few minutes ago. You felt like you could melt under his stare, and you knew your mouth was probably open in bewilderment. You coughed lightly to clear your throat, moving your gaze to somewhere on the wall behind him to avoid his eyes for a moment.

“Uhh, yeah, I, uh, have a classroom crush on you,” you stated, trying to keep your voice steady. Maybe if you faked your way to confidence, he wouldn’t notice the way you felt like your heart might explode from your chest with how wildly it was beating.

Johnny leaned back against the wall you both had been standing near, letting a lazy smile come over his face. “And what’s a classroom crush?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was enjoying himself but humoring him anyways, “You know. When you think someone’s cute in your class but you don’t really know anything about them because all you see is them in class.”

At the mention of class, you recalled the fact that after this encounter you would have to walk into class on Monday and see this man in front of you. The idea filled you with embarrassment. You had been slowly digging your own grave, and you were suddenly letting your eyes wander, thinking of a way to just get out of this without embarrassing yourself more.

Johnny made a noise of understanding, drawing your attention back to him, “Oh yeah, I get that.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you, “I actually have a classroom crush, too.”

“Oh?” 

Oh.

“Mhm,” he nodded as he rubbed his hand over his chin for a brief moment, “There’s this girl in my Monday-Wednesday lecture. She sits a few rows in front of me, but she occasionally turns around a little bit and sometimes I catch her staring at me. She’s so cute when she looks away all embarrassed about it.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized, fuck, oh fuck, that’s you, fuck, he noticed you.

“Oh yeah?” you gulped out. You looked down at his drink, “Can I have some of that?”

He offered the cup to you, letting out a mention that it was strong, but you took a big drink anyways, relishing in the way the alcohol burned going down. You looked back up to see him with a small, little smile on his face directed at you, as he watched you with an amused gleam in his eye.

You swore his smile could melt your insides entirely. “So,” he began, “What happens with a classroom crush, typically?”

The liquid courage from the alcohol had your mouth talking before your brain could really keep up with it.

“I usually just daydream and make up scenarios in my head during class to waste time, and then it kinda fizzles out after a while, usually when the semester is over.”

How were you acting so calm when you felt like you should be freaking the fuck out on the inside. Have you really been saying all of these things out loud? Your words came to an abrupt halt as you stared up at the man just a bit away from you. 

“Have you ever thought about asking the person out?” Johnny asked, his words coming out with a little teasing in his tone. 

You smiled weakly at him, “I guess that’s what I was trying to do with this whole conversation, but I’m just very bad at this.”

Johnny let out a little laugh. “I think you’re doing great. We are talking after all, aren’t we?”

You were grateful that he seemed to not be rejecting you, but you were curious as to what was going on in his head.

“I’m being so dumb right now,” you laughed it off, “I can at least partially blame the alcohol, but I’m just new to this. Hopefully it makes your night a little more interesting.”

“Yeah, you are interesting.” he paused for a seemingly dramatic effect, leaning in closer to you, “I like it.”

He smiled as he glanced from you to the laptop next to him. You had forgotten about the laptop, and the music, and even the party and people around you. You felt lost in the conversation that was happening between the two of you. 

He crouched on the floor to look better at the laptop that was set up on the low table, and he motioned for you to join him. All that was on the screen was the music queue, but you leaned in a little too close to get a better look at the words on the screen. 

Getting so close to the screen also meant being nearer to Johnny, and when you looked over at him, your faces were closer than you had thought they were. Being so close, you could smell his cologne. The new scent registered in your brain, and it made you realize just how much you had learned about Johnny in the past few minutes.

You had clearly been the one talking more, but you were kind of proud of yourself for even getting this far. You had never really talked to one of your classroom crushes outside of class, not even for group presentations, and being in Johnny’s presence just made you like him even more.

“Do you wanna keep making my night interesting?” he asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Oh!” His words bring out your flustered state again, and you jump back and stand up from where you both had been crouching on the floor. “Um, I’m not really comfy doing anything like that tonight--”

“No!” he interrupted, standing up as well while rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean it like that…. Just, do you want to keep hanging out? I think the guys set up beer pong outside so you could come watch with me?”

As you saw Johnny sputtering a bit from the mix-up, you felt yourself calm down knowing that he was also capable of being thrown off his rhythm. His words ignited butterflies in your stomach. 

“Yeah, sure!”

“Do you, uh, want to go talk to your friends real quick?” he gestured over to your friends across the room, and you looked over to see them trying hard to seem like they weren’t watching the entire encounter, even though they clearly were. You flushed with wide eyes, embarrassed that they were being so obvious. 

“Um, yeah,” you tried to laugh it off, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen?”

He gave you a reassuring smile, “Sure.”

You walked over to your friends, who were all grinning at you like idiots and letting out a few victory cheers. Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel happy seeing how goofy and supportive your friends were being. They attacked you with an array of questions.

“Tell us everything!”

“Does he seem interested?”

“Did you ask him out?”

“I keep making a fool of myself,” you replied, “But he doesn’t seem put off by it— I think he might think I’m cute.”

“Yes you are!” one of your friends said, “And he’s so hot!!” 

She pinched your cheeks and you ducked away, rolling your eyes at their drunken antics. You bid them goodbye and slipped through the party to find the kitchen. 

Johnny stood over by the fridge, sipping from a beer can and smiled when his eyes met yours. He offered you a drink, and you accepted a seltzer from the fridge. He gestured toward the back deck, leading you through the back door with his hand on the small of your back. The light touch didn’t go unnoticed, leaving your cheeks warm despite the cold air. 

The two of you stood near the railing to watch a few guys play pong. You sipped your seltzer, aware of Johnny’s arm brushing yours as he greeted others hanging around the game.

Johnny was completely at ease here, leaning against the railing with his arm almost around you, his hand brushing your waist. It almost felt like this was a normal occurrence for the both of you. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he did this often. You watched the game and the people around you silently for a while, basking in the world of Johnny and his friends that you somehow got wrapped up in, even just for a moment.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Johnny slid his arm up to the small of your back. His hand was big and warm even through the fabric of your shirt. 

He ducked down closer to your ear, “Hey, you okay?”

His eyes peered into yours, a look of genuine interest crossing his face. You smiled back at him. 

“Yeah, I just haven’t been to a party in a while,” you replied, hoping your nerves can be explained away. He didn’t need to know how affected you were by his casual touches.

“Nothing a drink can’t fix,” he said, clinking your cans together with a silly grin on his face. It seemed he knew you were nervous, as he experimented with his touch and kept you close without being overbearing. His casual nature made you even more relaxed.

You went back to watching the increasingly intense game of beer pong, but it was hard to concentrate when you could feel Johnny’s fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You snuck a look up at him, and while he wasn’t looking down at you, his mouth perked into a smile like he knew you were watching. 

The game started to come to a close, with the crowd of people getting bigger and more rowdy. You turned your attention back to the game, watching as one of the guys sank the last cup, leading to an up-roar of cheers on the deck. You couldn’t help but cheer alongside everyone, raising your drink before taking a big sip.

Unfortunately for you, one of the more inebriated partygoers fell backwards into you, causing your drink to spill all over the front of your shirt. The guy didn’t even seem to notice you break his fall, standing up and running back into the crowd, leaving you with a big stain across your chest. 

Johnny grasped your forearms, making sure you were upright and okay, his eyes scanning over you to make sure you weren’t hurt. 

“Hey, come on, I’ll get you cleaned up,” he says, tucking his arm around your shoulders to guide you through the crowd.

The party is still going strong inside the house, with loud music and dim lights illuminating the swirl of bodies you walk through. Johnny leads you upstairs, which is a lot quieter, despite a few people roaming in and out of rooms. He takes you into the bathroom, gesturing for you to hop on the counter. 

He takes a towel from the linen closet, gently dabbing at the stain on your collarbone. His other hand rests on the counter next to you, before resting lightly on your hip to hold you steady.

You don’t think you’ve let out a single breath since he began, watching his face knot into a look of concentration. You wonder if he can hear your heart about to beat out of your chest. Other than the faint pounding of distant music and the buzz of the overhead light, there isn’t a sound to be heard.

His face is so close, you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. A few strands of hair fall across his eyes and you find yourself wondering what those locks would feel like under your fingers. His hair looks soft.

You get caught up noticing how much he towers over you, distracted by your own thoughts as you gaze at him. You’re brought out of your reverie when his eyes catch yours, a smile appearing across his features. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing goosebumps to flutter up your spine. 

Johnny steps back and clears his throat, as if remembering himself. He looks down at his handiwork, his mouth quirking at the still-visible stain.

“I don’t think that stain’s coming out,” he says, “Hang on.”

He exits the bathroom for a moment, leaving you alone. You take a deep breath. This whole situation makes you feel like all the oxygen has been sucked out of your lungs.

He reappears less than two minutes later, holding a slate gray shirt that clearly belongs to himself. 

“You can put this on if you want,” he says, holding the material out to you. 

You don’t notice the bashful look on his face at the gesture, as you immediately start taking off your shirt to put on the replacement. You do however catch a glimpse at the way Johnny respectfully tries to look anywhere but your torso until you have his shirt on. 

You smile sheepishly once the fabric touches your skin. The shirt is way too big, with the sleeves coming down almost to your elbows. It smells faintly of him, and you look up to see him staring at you intently. You watched as his eyes traveled down the length of you before coming back up and settling on your lips.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, breaking through the silence that had settled over the both of you. 

Johnny clears his throat, “Oh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, “You just, uh, look really good in my shirt…”

You can tell that your face is warm, but his confession emboldens you to take a small step toward him, gazing up at his face through your eyelashes. He meets you in the middle, placing his hands gently on your waist as he leans down and brings his lips to meet yours.

You gasp into the kiss, letting every emotion wash over you. His hands are warm as they wrap around you, bringing you close. You rest your hands on his shoulders, letting them wander over the expanse of his chest. 

He deepens the kiss, and your hands drift up into his hair. You almost moan at how soft it is. Johnny must know you’re holding back, moving his mouth to kiss down your neck as his hands wander under your shirt to caress your torso. You moan when he starts sucking on the tender skin beneath your ear. 

He groans when he hears you let out the sound, lifting you up and setting you on the counter in a rush. He steps between your legs, as your lips meet again, his mouth swallowing your sounds as you try to get closer by wrapping your legs around him.

His hands are close to fondling with your bra under his shirt you’re wearing, and you can feel the bulge in his pants as you let yourself grind against him.

“Johnny…” you mumble between kisses, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline. The mumble of his name spurs him on.

You break apart eventually, breathing heavily as you gaze at his swollen lips. You can’t even imagine what you must look like at the moment. 

Johnny slowly removes himself from you and steps back to adjust his jeans with a sheepish look on his face. When he looks back up at you, it’s with a smile. 

“We should probably stop here,” he suggests, remembering how you mentioned not wanting to go too far tonight. “At least for now.”

You nod, your heart beating fast at the implication of seeing more of him in the future. He combs his fingers through your hair a bit to help make you more presentable, before reaching for your hand. 

The two of you head back downstairs, into the chaos of the party, and you find your friends dancing in the living room. They wave and let out some wolf whistles when they see you walking down the stairs hand-in-hand. 

You look back at Johnny, and he grins at your friends’ silly behavior, watching as they call you over. 

“It’s cool, I’m gonna go check the music queue,” he says, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go, “I’ll see you in class, yeah?”

You return his smile, “Yeah.”

“And maybe at the next party, too?” he asks with a hopeful tone. 

You nod before planting a quick kiss on his lips, leaving him speechless as you turn and slip into the crowd. 

When you reach your friends, you glance back to find Johnny back to the corner where you had first approached him. It almost felt like the last hour was a hazy dream, but when he looked up, his eyes found yours immediately, lingering with a small smile on his face. 

Not a dream, at all.

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#johnny x reader #johnny suh x reader #johnny nct #johnny #nct x reader #johnny x you #johnny suh x you #college au #suggestive #fluff #nct scenarios #nct johnny #johnny suh fanfic #nct fanfic #my writing

[oh-saints]

trust

she was only supposed to be carlos sainz jr's lead engineer.

carlos sainz jr x SFengineer!OC

word count: 2k

tw: nothing

note: a) mentions of unmarried!toto, b) as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read. i swear i'll be answering ur asks around this weekend and put up 'the holiday (pt.2)', sorry for the delay but i can't help but write this down first teheee

“what do you think, alina?”

at the mention of her name, his lead engineer didn’t waste another breath to jump into topics at hand. she presented her case and the justifications behind her decision, statistics and other data tucked under her arsenal in case anyone dared to refute her. all sharp and ever precise, no wishy washy, just like how she presented herself.

carlos remembered he once contemplated raising a concern over the engineer assigned for him. no, not because she is a woman—hannah schmitz of his old company, red bull racing, had proven him wrong so many times about the calibre of the women working in this rigorous field—but because she was aloof beyond belief, borderline unapproachable even. in his early ferrari days, carlos had his moments where he second-guessed himself before engaging her into a conversation, afraid she’d think of his questions stupid, that he had to seek charles’ aid.

charles used to laugh at carlos’ meek revelation but the frenchman also recalled the days where he used to be so intimidated by the woman, thinking she should’ve been assigned to the first driver and not him, who just debuted only a year before joining the italian automobile giant. alas, the no-bullshit-only-facts kind of way she rolled with was what made the entire paddock respected her even more because the least they needed to end the constructor’s championship drought was someone who only wanted hefty pay checks but not glory days.

carlos, for the same reason, had to agree with charles’ sentiment. her calls, more often than not, were more significantly impactful to him gaining podium than even the team principal’s, even when carlos himself doubted his ears when her instructions came to him via the radio. but his respect went off the roof back in silverstone, when he couldn’t see anything straight due to the heavy pour, but alina called the shot to fuck away most of ferrari’s strategies—one that she didn’t think made sense—and told carlos to drive as his instinct went.

at that time, carlos told her she had gone mad. alina didn’t laugh at his response—well, she rarely did to anyone’s—but her response came out stronger than his.

“do you trust me on this, carlos?”

“do you trust me, alina?”

"with my life."

funny how she could do it with less than expressive tone, with less than 10 words exchanged between them. funny it was exactly how carlos could gain his maiden win in formula 1. funny it was also the moment she became an important figure in his life.

the moment carlos stepped out of the car after the long race, he didn’t think twice to sprint to the paddock—because alina hated crowds and preferred to celebrate it in her station—to give her a hug. probably the tightest hug carlos had ever given to someone. but it was worth every penny on his bank account, especially when he noticed a miniscule smile ghosted over her lips.

“i told you to trust me.”

“i did, i do. with my life.”

and the growing smile afterwards made his head spin. he didn’t know there was something else that could intoxicate him when he was high on adrenaline, more than the fact that he could now proudly say he was an f1 race winner. but he didn’t want to trade it for anything else in the world. in fact, he couldn’t wait until the time he could see it again.

“what do you think of alina’s strategy, carlos?”

mattia’s voice interrupted the flashback train he was having but mattia should’ve known better. carlos would always answer this question with, “i’m down to whatever alina plans. she knows best.” call him bullshitting, but it didn’t take away the truth behind his words. he trusted her, with his life, without a second doubt.

but maybe he should’ve trusted alina strictly only for things concerning his racing performance because carlos as heck couldn’t accept the feeling he was having when he overheard the mechanics gossiping alina.

“have you heard? toto asked alina out!”

“fuck! toto fucking wolff?”

“it's a buzz over there. you reckon he's doing it so alina can join them?”

“probably. did she say yes?”

“yeah, man. they're going out tonight.”

“not going to the monza party, then.”

“she never does, anyway. besides, it's the fucking toto wolff!”

never once in carlos’ short life did he mourn for a loss. of what, he didn’t know, but he knew as much as whatever it is was now falling down the drain. he swore he didn’t want to go through it all over again, being bereft of something to the point it suffocated him, made him gaping for an extra air supply.

to say it blew carlos’ mind would be an understatement. he was completely out of it most of the time he wasn’t in the car racing. ironic how he needed something to occupy his mind beyond the grid, yet her stoic voice over the radio was what he soaked himself in. reality be damned.

but as everyone and their mothers say, reality sure had a funny way to slap you in the face. if carlos thought finding out alina was going to a date with the toto wolff, he clearly wasn’t prepared to see how she looked going to a date with toto wolff. the signature red blouse and her series of pencil skirt dashed aside, she was earth-shatteringly—at least to carlos’ definition of earth he was living—stunning in a black cocktail dress, the sparkly ornaments pronounced her eyes even brighter than the chandelier hanging above them as they waited for the elevator car to come and pick them up.

“i thought you’re not going to the monza party.”

“i’m not.”

call him idiot for hoping she’d say the otherwise, even though he—like the rest of the crew—knew like the back of their hand that alina was devoid of places packed with people.

carlos’ heart lurched at the thought she dressed up excellently, had she decided to go to the monza party, black dresscode and all, yet he couldn’t have her come with him. she would surely woo away all the boredom the party would bring, for carlos thought she was the most interesting thing on the planet. but instead, she decided to forego it all; going somewhere else far from the crowd, looking so enthralling he wanted to capture every motion of her breathing, doing something he would absolutely love to ask of her.

“where are you going then? a date?”

“oh, you heard what the mouths in the paddock running with.”

that got to be alina’s longest sentence, sans the strategies and all other jazz in relation to racing. how pathetic that the only time they spoke something not connected with their office relationship was triggered by ferrari’s long standing rival. so pathetic carlos wanted to beat himself for taking everything of alina for granted, now that he realised.

“so, are you?”

the eerie silent bestowed upon them was so cold it prickled carlos’ skin as if frostbite had bitten him down. it was frightening that such silence drove them apart further than the atlantic ocean, yet no words were more powerful than any other answer she could possibly provide him with.

carlos didn’t know what to do with himself. should he be glad she presented him honesty? or should he be devastated they were so compatible that they needn’t any words to understand each other except for this one particular matter?

heck, even if he’d figured out all the answers to those questions, he was sure he still didn’t know what to do with himself. take a look the past years they’d been working together and not a moment did he know what he was doing around her, especially the time when he’d pulled over the helmet over his head after the race was concluded.

the loudest ding! reached to carlos’ ears, as if it was purposely done that way as carlos’ loudest reminder he was running out of time. because let’s be real; when the torger christian wolff of Mercedes-amg petronas f1 team succeed in wooing you, you wouldn’t have the chance to say no to the life laid in front of you like a hollywood’s blockbuster red carpet rolled on your feet.

but at least, carlos had tried before toto did, despite knowing the slim succession rate.

“don’t go.”

the elevator doors hadn’t even shut properly when carlos shot his fire, taking alina aback like a whirlwind no one warned you about. it was the most expressive alina had ever been around the spanish driver, her being perplexed enlarged the eyes he loved the most—for it always shone with burning desire and determination to win around him—and forced herself to inhale a sharp intake of breath. it was an endearing sight, if only carlos wasn’t hanging his sanity on the thinnest line called god’s fate.

alina being analytical alina, she spared some time—god, he wished to never undergo those excruciating seconds again in his life—to scan over carlos’ face through their reflections on the gold plate of the elevator doors, searching hopefully anything to indicate the sainz jr was joking around, like he used to do with lando on the mclaren paddock across the red horse’s.

carlos was glad alina didn’t take her chance to crumble him to his feet by turning herself towards him. his resolution would fall apart in a split second. so he chose to stand straighter, all while locking his black orbs on hers, this time with the same burning desire and determination she always had on a race day.

“why?”

she needs convincing? i'll give her convincing. he was the first to peer down at her, immediately submerging himself into intoxication at the sight of the beauty beside him and soaking in the close proximity he’d been dying to have ever since silverstone. “do you trust me, alina?”

alina, in turn, tried to reach his eyes, this time wavering from the intensity of carlos’ staring. throughout their excellent partnership, alina had never encountered such heavy weight on his eyes and she’d be lying if deep down she wasn’t scared of the combination between those eyes and what lied underneath them. but her fear was overshadowed by her curiosity. “with my life.”

it didn’t take carlos another second—thank god for his f1 driver reflexes—before his unconscious jumpstarted at her response. his hands immediately went up to cup her jawlines, holding her in her place before she could think of anything else, and brought his lips landing on hers. softly, smoothly, precisely inbetween. their eyes shut into perfect dome, noses rubbing gently against one another.

he closed down on her upper lip, as the lower part moved to sync with him, and soon their lips began dancing in perfect sync on the slow, burning floor. nothing was rushed, nor impatient. simply a mutual enjoyment between two people who’d been deprived of something they’d been craving in the dark for far too long.

freedom tasted so good on their clashing tongues as the dance, slowly but surely, picked up some speed and heat altogether. alina seeked for stability by grabbing carlos’ sleek black suit jacket as the towering man pushed the woman gently towards the corner of the small space, their heavy breaths were the only music filling the air.

another loud ding! pulled them apart, as if it was purposely done to bring them back to reality. they both heard another couple taking up some of the remaining space but their eyes never left each other's as they exchanged knowing smiles, the tip of carlos' fingers brushed over her cheeks softly as he rested his forehead on hers.

now they were truly one and the same in every sense of that word. one, same team. not just the driver and its lead engineer, but carlos and alina.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fan fiction #carlos sainz blurbs #oh-saints writes

[ismelinor]

Who did it better? (1/2)

Read on AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic | word count: 2,035

Summary: When things aren’t adding up following the events of Dreamland, Mulder and Scully look for evidence of what happened. They find the CCTV footage of them leaving Kersh’s office… i.e. a contrived situation which allows Mulder and Scully to watch ‘Mulder’ slap Scully on the butt.

It started small, with two coins fused together and a general sense of wrongness. The term was vague and un-scientific, and she’d never hear the end of it if she said it to Mulder – but nevertheless, something was just off.

It was like…when you wake up from the deepest of deep sleeps (which was a distant dream to her – when was the last time she’d woken to anything other than an alarm, the phone ringing, or Mulder pounding at her door?) and it takes a few minutes to remember who and where you are. She’d felt like that walking away from the confrontation at Area 51: What was she doing there? Who was the man standing next to her? What day was it?

Only – the feeling hadn’t quite faded the way it usually did after a shower and a cup of coffee. No, everything still felt…out of focus.

And then there were the odd little knick-knacks that kept appearing. The fused dime and penny was weird enough, but then she found a handful of sunflower seeds in the pocket of her overcoat – and then a folded up paper doily, stamped Little A’le Inn, Rachel – and then, the kicker, a receipt for a pack of Morleys from a gas station in Nevada tucked into her drawer, when she knew she and Mulder hadn’t stopped on their way back. She called the bank to query the expense: they had no record of the payment. None of it made any sense.

~~~

It would have taken Scully a long time to admit out loud that a few sunflower seeds and errant receipts here and there were making her question reality. Fortunately, Mulder had no such qualms. He pulled her aside after lunch one day, and launched right into it: “Scully, I think we’ve experienced some sort of time jump.”

Scully just blinked at him.

“It’s not unheard of, you know. There’s several well-documented cases in the files: individuals who unaccountably knew what was going to happen, or claimed to have brought items from the past or the future.” Off the look she was giving him, he added, “Need I remind you that you’re the one with a thesis defending the possibility of time travel?”

He’d brought it up enough times that she had little hope of forgetting it. She sighed. “What makes you think we’ve travelled in time?”

“Ever since we got back from Area 51, I’ve been finding these…these relics of a week I know I didn’t live. My apartment’s all cleaned up – I’ve got a waterbed now – yesterday I found a pair of handcuffs on my pillow.” Scully raised an eyebrow. He leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Scully, I might forget a little spring cleaning, but you know I wouldn’t forget handcuffs.”

Scully tried to bite back her smile. “Those have all happened to you, Mulder, and frankly they sound like symptoms of early-onset dementia. You said we experienced a time jump. How am I involved?”

“Scully, I’ve seen you take those coins out of your drawer a hundred times today alone. Tell me you’re not finding things too.”

She wasn’t ready to concede yet, so she said, “These could all be accounted for by someone playing a strange prank on us. Why are you so ready to believe it’s time travel?”

“When I focus on these objects, I start to remember the other timeline. It’s fuzzy, but it’s there: I remember going inside Area 51, Scully. It was like I was living someone else’s life for a week. There were these bratty teenagers – I think I had a wife, even. It was awful. The problem is, I get this headache every time I try to remember.”

Scully sighed. “It’s the power of suggestion, Mulder. You already had this theory, and now your mind is filling in the gaps.”

Mulder grinned. “I have proof. Well, the lone gunmen have proof, but I’m going over this evening to check it out. They called me just now because their systems registered an anomaly: a blip in the CCTV recording of their office. When they looked over the footage from yesterday, they saw you and me talking to them for almost half an hour. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly sure I was eating pizza on my couch all yesterday evening.”

Scully raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Come on, Mulder. It’s far more likely that they mixed up the footage from yesterday with another day.”

“They’re not just pretty faces, Scully: they’re tech experts. Don’t you trust their abilities?”

“Trust them? Mulder, they’re the most paranoid, delusional people I’ve ever met. Byers I might listen to, but Langley and Frohike think they’re living out James Bond, when-”

“When they’re a little more Revenge of the Nerds?” Mulder finished.

Scully grimaced. He wasn’t wrong.

“What, you don’t like that one?”

“Mulder, I’m a woman with a PhD in physics. If I wanted to see angry, sexually aggressive nerds, I’d open my yearbook.”

Mulder laughed delightedly. “Alright, Scully, just pretend you agree with me for a minute. Focus on the coin and see if you remember anything.”

She huffed but closed her eyes. That coin was strange: like two objects trying to occupy the same space – a perversion of the most basic laws of physics. And, casting her mind back, it was like…like two memories were trying to occupy the same space in her hippocampus. “I remember…I think I remember a gas station…and sitting with you in Kersh’s office…you were acting strange…and, oh, I remember going over to your place…huh, I remember your bedroom, and the handcuffs-” She opened her eyes wide to take in Mulder’s expression, already shifting from surprise to a smirk. She blushed; damn her complexion, never hid anything. “Not like that. I handcuffed you to the bed-” Mulder raised an eyebrow and she reddened even more. “Not like that. You weren’t…you.”

None of it made sense. Her memory must be confused: yes, just like Mulder, she must be creating false memories out of the objects they’d found. Her head was pounding all of a sudden.

Mulder hummed. “Well, if video tape captures this…alternate version of events, why don’t we check out the CCTV here? You said we were in Kersh’s office: maybe we can catch us leaving.”

Scully was too curious to argue, so she followed him up to the security office. It didn’t take much to convince the guard on duty to look out the tapes for them – which was slightly concerning, actually. When he came back to the desk, he was frowning. “There’s two tapes of the sixth floor corridor from Tuesday. I don’t know how they got mixed up.”

Mulder shrugged, taking them both. Scully thanked the guard and followed Mulder to the lift.

“We can’t watch these in the bullpen, or we’ll get questions. My place or yours?”

“Yours. But we’re waiting till after work, Mulder. We’re on thin enough ice as it is: I’m not risking suspension over a weird coin and a pair of handcuffs.”

Mulder sighed like the petulant child he was but took his seat anyway. Back to piles of manure.

~~~

Sitting by his side on Mulder’s leather couch, Scully could almost pretend that they were normal people. When he held out the two tapes for her to choose between, she could imagine that he was letting her pick a movie: that he’d put the tape in, grab them beers from the fridge, and they’d lounge around and laugh at the bad special effects.

But no, of course not. They were examining unethically obtained CCTV footage to investigate whether there had been a rip in the space-time continuum. A much more sensible use of her Friday afternoon. She pointed to Mulder’s right hand and he put the tape in. The time stamp read 13:00, Tuesday. They watched as grainy FBI agents rushed up and down the hall, a few familiar faces here and there. Mulder picked up the remote and put the tape on 2x, then 5x speed. The agents zoomed every which way, but there was no sign of Mulder or Scully. The only people to walk in or out of Kersh’s office were his secretary and Kersh himself. Nada.

Mulder switched the tapes. 13:00, Tuesday, again. The same camera angle. It even looked to be the same agents bustling down the corridor – Scully spotted Stonecypher at 13:14, just like in the first tape. Huh. Someone must have copied the tape: it was strange, but not outside the realm of possibility. But then-

Scully stared at the screen incredulously: Mulder was right. There they were, walking out of Kersh’s office at 13:35, when Scully knew for a fact that they’d never been to that meeting. How the hell was that possible? They sat forward on the sofa simultaneously. On the screen, they stopped just outside the office. It was hard to read their expressions in the grainy image, but it looked like Scully was giving him a dressing down. Mulder walked back into the office and Scully threw up her hands in frustration, clearly watching him through the doorway. After a few moments, Mulder walked out again and – and –

Scully sputtered out “Did you just-” at the same time as Mulder’s “Did I just-”. She wheeled on him, flushed with disbelief and anger. “You just slapped me on my ass!”

Mulder put his hands up like she was pointing a gun at him – and there was an idea – and coughed up a rather pathetic barrage of “No – I didn’t”s and “I wouldn’t”s. And then – he started to laugh.

She gaped at him in outrage, a perfect match for her doppelganger on the screen. He attempted to rein in his laugher.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s not funny – it’s just – I mean, come on, Scully, there’s no way you can think that’s really me.”

Scully narrowed her eyes at him, but – well, he had a point. Mulder could be a flirt – he was incorrigible, really – but he’d never crossed the line. Even when it really, really seemed like he would. Given the two tapes with the same time stamp, the strange objects popping up and the confused state of their memories – yes, she was willing to concede that the Mulder on the tape might not be (for lack of a better word) her Mulder.

Still, she wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “What are the chances that two different people are somehow able to impersonate you perfectly? And what are the chances that they both use this fantastical power to hit on me?”

Mulder raised an eyebrow in an expression she assumed was meant to convey: oh, we’re talking about Eddie now, are we?

She raised an eyebrow right back at him: serves you right for laughing, asshole.

“Well, Scully, once you’ve eliminated the impossible, and all that.”

“I think we have different definitions of impossible, Mulder. I’d call two separate men with uncanny shapeshifting abilities pretty impossible.”

Mulder grinned and she nudged his shoulder to let him know she’d forgiven him. For now.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get any more from the CCTV, and thinking about it is hurting my head,” said Mulder. “I’m going over to Byers’ to check out their tape. You wanna join?”

If anyone had told Scully six years ago that she’d be happy – excited, even – to spend her Friday evenings drinking cheap beer and debating the likelihood of time travel with four conspiracy nuts, she’d have laughed in their face. Today, though, she just ducked her head and smiled.

“If we can pick up food on the way. I’m never eating Langley’s cooking again.”

Mulder handed over her coat. As they left his apartment, he turned to her and asked, “For future reference, who did it better, Eddie or Tape Guy?”

Sculled rolled her eyes. He had nerve, she’d give him that. “I’d prefer a bottle of wine to a slap on the ass, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mulder smirked. “But, for future reference, you do it better than either of them.”

That wiped the smirk off his face.

[lossie92]

The below snippet is from a little something I've been adding to in-between other projects. It's an a/b/o arranged marriage fic that focuses on mdtb trying to find the common ground and communicate with each other during their wedding night. Btw I'm working on stuff in the background (the next chapter of Cynosure should be coming your way sometime this week, yay!), but it's slow going, since I haven't been feeling well for a while now.

Either way, hope you enjoy!

-

Tobirama's hand shook when he placed it in Madara's. He was sure the alpha could feel it, but it was difficult to say what he thought of it, his face unreadable as he helped Tobirama stand and then led him away from their wedding reception to the sound of whistles and catcalls.

Though Tobirama tried to pretend he wasn't bothered by the ruckus and the reason behind it, he would be lying if he said he wasn't apprehensive about what this night would bring.

Even if he had wondered what it would be like to be intimate with someone, he had never tried it before. In fact the moment Madara kissed him to seal their marriage was the first time he had ever kissed anyone and he was still reeling from the experience, his whole body tingling when he remembered how unexpectedly nice it had felt.

He could feel himself blush at that thought, the memories of the moment they shared that kiss fresh and vivid.

Madara had been gentle. He had pulled Tobirama close and cradled his cheek in one of his bare hands before pressing his lips against Tobirama's for a brief moment. He had pulled away almost immediately, but Tobirama chased after him, sealing their lips in another kiss that clearly took Madara by surprise. He still kissed back and although it was probably against tradition and decorum, they continued to exchange those soft, tender kisses until they were both breathless. 

Though maybe Tobirama was reading too much into it, he couldn't help but think this might bode well for their first night as husband and wife, if not their marriage overall.

Maybe it would be bearable.

Maybe he had nothing to fear.

They arrived at their chambers sooner than Tobirama expected. It pulled him back to the here and now suddenly, and he tensed up involuntarily when he realised this was it.

Thankfully, that particular wing of the daimyo's palace was more secluded, affording them the much-needed privacy. In comparison to the reception hall, which faced the main courtyard, it was quieter and darker, creating a more intimate atmosphere. 

They would be alone with no one to disturb them. On one hand it was a relief, considering the Elders almost succeeded in pushing for a viewing ceremony, but on the other…

Tobirama shivered as Madara led him inside before closing the door behind them.

The chambers consisted of four rooms in total.

The entrance area where they were now seemed to be set up like a day room with a low table surrounded by zabuton near the centre and a place to prepare tea tucked away in a corner and partially hidden by a screen. The shoji was left open, allowing the cool night air and the faint light of the moon to slip inside.

One of the other rooms looked to be an office with a writing desk in the middle. Tobirama didn't spare it much attention, but he could see that someone had placed a brush stand, an ink block, and fresh scrolls on top of the desk, presumably in case either Madara or himself needed to work in the morning.

The third room was a small bathing area equipped with a mirror, an empty basin, two jugs of water, a bar of soap, and some linens they could use to wash themselves.

Finally the fourth and last room was the bedroom – their den for the night. 

There were two wooden ikou in the opposite corners of the room, which was much appreciated as they were both dressed in expensive clothing and it would have been a shame if their kimono got ruined. Their belongings had been placed next to them, indicating which ikou was meant for whom. 

Tobirama's attention was focused more on the bedding in the middle. His eyes widened when he saw the amount of pillows, furs, and blankets piled on top of it.

"Do you like it?" He heard Madara ask. "I thought this would be a bit more… comfortable."

"It seems… nice. Very, um, nice, Madara-sama," Tobirama responded. When he turned his head to look at his husband, he found the alpha already looking at him, his expression neutral. "Did you… was it your idea?"

Madara nodded. "I asked Hashirama what you would find most comforting," he said. "It's not perfect, I know, but I hope it will do for now? You will, of course, be able to arrange the nest to your liking at our house. I bought some materials already and we can always get more, but the decision regarding how and where it should be placed will be yours."

"Oh," was all that Tobirama was able to say. He suddenly felt hot all over as if he was running a fever. "That's… I'm… th-thank you?"

"You're welcome, Tobirama-san," Madara said with a barely there smile. "It's the least I could do." He paused for a moment and seemed to consider something before he added, "Would you like to change anything?"

Tobirama blinked, confused. "What?"

"Would you like to change anything?" Madara repeated while gesturing to the den. "Like I said, I asked your brother and did what I could, but it's not the same. So if it would make you feel more, um, comfortable… I can call for more pillows and blankets?"

"I… that's not– I'm— you don't have to?" Tobirama could feel himself blush as he said that. His face probably looked all splotchy right now, the remnants of makeup likely making things even worse. "It's, er, really fine. I mean nice. It's nice. I like it."

Though the expression on Madara's face didn't change, Tobirama had a distinct feeling the alpha didn't believe him and he was proven correct a moment later.

"Are you certain?" Reaching over, Madara took hold of his hands and squeezed them gently. "I want you to enjoy yourself tonight, Tobirama-san."

"I don't think that's possible to achieve," Tobirama responded before he could think what he was saying. His face now burning with embarrassment, he quickly added, "I-I didn't mean that!"

He snatched his hands away from Madara's hold and took a step back, wondering if he had just ruined everything. What he had said was true – he honestly didn't think he could be comfortable or find much joy in the current situation – but saying such a thing out loud was beyond stupid. It was bound to make Madara angry or displease him, and then—

"Aa, I understand if that's how you feel." Madara's voice remained even and calm, no trace of temper to be found. "All the more reasons to try though, isn't it?"

#mdtb #madatobi #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #madara #tobirama #wip #a/b/o au #arranged marriage au #lossie writes #naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto founders

[bucket-barnes]

As you wish Homie

(Suggestion from @tiredflowercrown)

Anthony Tremaine- curl up and dye

Heads up: I did very minimal research before writing this fic and embellished a bit for dramatics, I cannot guarantee that any of this information is medically accurate so you may need to suspend your disbelief a bit if you know more than I do

The Isle of the lost wasn’t a safe place, that wasn’t new, but in the case of Anthony Tremaine…danger came in a different form, the salon

The Tremaine family business may not have been dangerous in a traditional sense, the most threatening thing that happened to them was when Harriet Hook came in after a day of dealing with her father’s drunkenness and brother’s hallucinations, but even then she never did any harm, what really did the harm was when Anthony went to dye the stress-grays out of her hair

The hair dye in curl up and dye wasn’t of the highest quality, after all, it was Auradon’s leftovers, Anthony had been working with these chemicals since he was tall enough to reach the sinks, his earliest childhood memories linked to the smells of old bleach and dyes, touching up his grandmother’s roots, covering his mother’s horrid gray strands, and even helping Dizzy with her colored streaks whenever he was in a good mood. The process was therapeutic in a way, giving life to the dull and dead, the moments of peace he would get when more or less frying people’s hair…along with unknowingly frying years off his lifespan with internal burns and respiratory damage

Anthony had a few trademarks that made him stand out, his always perfect hair, the way he made rags look expensive…and his cough. Anthony had been basically inhaling poison since birth (especially when they would have to substitute the bleach with actual poison if they ran out) his lungs were thoroughly ravaged, though it wouldn’t stop him from keeping up his image. He always carried a cornflower blue handkerchief with him in the event of one of his coughing fits, people didn’t tend to pay it mind, the sound of someone hacking their lungs out in the street was the isle’s equivalent to chirping birds. Anthony always handled these fits with grace, coughing into his handkerchief and then tucking it away into his shirt pocket with one hand while the other slyly clutched his ribs. The only part Anthony couldn’t control was the rasp in his voice that would come and go, but hey…some people are into that, no harm no foul

At the incessant begging of his cousin, Anthony came to Auradon, it was wonderful, clean air, fresh food, the most fashionable clothes Anthony’s ever seen…but he kept getting weird looks from people when he coughed, it wasn’t that bad, was it? They were small, quiet, a little uncomfortable sure but…not terrible…right?? Well, they were that bad, the isle and Auradon just had very different definitions of the word, it was while working with Evie that Anthony learned this difference

It was a few days before the royal wedding and Evie wanted to get her hair touched up before her best friend’s big day so she had gone to Anthony to get the job done. Sure, Auradon had amazing hair stylists, but Dizzy had suggested letting Anthony do Evie’s hair since he knew how to get the perfect shade of blue every time. Evie sat in the chair and made small talk with Anthony, though it was interrupted by a handful of coughing fits. She must have been in Auradon a long time because, Evie didn’t remember Anthony’s coughs sounding that bad. His breath sounded labored and painful, his coughs were strained and seemed to cause him physical pain, Anthony practically doubling over at one point while he groaned and clutched his ribs. Evie would ask if he was ok and needed a break, Anthony would always insist he was fine, the cough was normal and not that bad, though the more he insisted the more Evie would protest to him continuing, but he kept on with the job at hand, the fumes making his eyes slightly water…then again, could’ve been tears from all the coughing…

It happened in a flash. Anthony’s eyes had gone vacant and his breath became more of a labored wheeze than breathing, he started to tip and the next thing he knew he was making his way to the floor as his vision went dark and his hearing became nothing but ringing…

he woke up in…not Evie’s house, the walls were white, everything was blurry…and what was that noise? It was loud and obnoxious like a broken alarm clock that wouldn’t turn off. He turned to his left and saw Dizzy, was she crying? He also felt a weird poking in his arm, he turned to his right and saw a thin tube, no thicker than a sewing needle, going right into his arm carrying some strange, gold liquid…

“Wh…where am…I?”

Anthony tried to ask, though it came out more as incoherent mumbling than actual words. Dizzy looked at her cousin with a mixture of confusion and concern

“Um…somewhere called a hospital? You Passed out doing Evie’s hair and weren’t waking up, I panicked, I’m sorry!”

“…S’kay…ok”

Gods, he must have been tired, he could barely form a sentence, though that noise from earlier wasn’t going away, if anything it was getting louder, good gods someone make it stop!

“Wh…ts that?”

Anthony tried to ask another question, though once again it sounded more like mumbling. Dizzy tapped her chest with her finger and Anthony seemed to get the message…that noise was his heartbeat, and it was getting louder because he was confused and…admittedly a little scared…wow was he screwed

Hope this sufficed! Who knew hair dye was so toxic, huh? (Cue uncomfortable laughter because I bleached and dyed my hair at home for three years straight) got any more descendants characters you want to see me medically screw over? By all means tell me! I’m bored, I’ll do it!

#disney descendants #disney #descendants 3 #descendants fanfiction #descendants 2 #anthony tremaine #dizzy tremaine #evie descendants #god I love torturing fictional characters #who knew hair dye was toxic #those fumes do more than smell like shit I guess #none of this is medically accurate proabablt #honestly most of his symptoms were more akin to dye poisoning #than long term illness #but I only did a couple google searches #and hey #who’s to say he hasn’t been unknowingly injecting hair dye #his entire life??

[silver-pieces]

escape

Pairing: Mon Mothma x librarian!gn!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Synopsis: In the hush of the library, a touch-starved Mon gives you her confession.

Warnings: 18+, smut (kissing, sexual thoughts, submissive reader), angst, fluff, forbidden romance

A/N: This is my first entry into Andor Bingo, created by @sw-andor​! The square I chose for this one is ‘guilt/touch-starved’ and damn if Mon isn’t perfect for that one? Beta read by the amazing @rescuethewretched​ who came at me with the Mon Mothma hype and the librarian!reader idea 🥰 This fic features mild Andor spoilers. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​.

The sounds of the city pierce through the contemplative hush of the library, signalling someone’s arrival as the doors unseal.

You look up from your novel and, saving your place, tuck it away beneath your desk. The sun is lower than you recall. During mid afternoon, when the hours seem to drift by, company is unexpected, but you stand from your desk ever ready to greet them.

A familiar silhouette lingers at the entrance.

“Mon?” Your eyes catch on her arms folded around her middle, clinging to herself. A strange, unsettling feeling comes over you, and you peer behind her, out on the street, for Lieda or her driver. “Are you... alright?” You’ve never seen her alone before.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she says putting on a smile, and she steps inside, letting the doors shut behind her. “I just...” she glances behind her, “needed to get away.”

She’s not telling you the full truth. “Did you walk here?” you ask, deciding not to push. She’s never been willing to speak much about her life outside these walls.

You notice the way her shoulders relax, her feet carrying her further into the library as her smile grows genuine. “I did. I thought I should enjoy the sunlight before I forget what it feels like altogether. So often we forget to savour what’s right in front of us.”

“Ah,” you chuckle. Tapping buttons, a holo flickers between you, scrolling by with the titles of various books for her to select from. “Perhaps some reading could help you escape?”

“Yes, that always seems to keep me grounded, doesn’t it?” Her smile widens. “Especially when you read it for me.”

Heat rises to you face. Words fail you, so you resort to a shy nod.

It didn’t always used to be like this. When she first met you, you already knew her daughter, Lieda, the young rich girl who dragged her father down here every week to borrow books on Chandrilan culture and traditions. Perrin usually sulked in a corner while she pored over the books. But when Lieda decided to bring her mother here for the first time, Mon Mothma had arrived, taken one look at you, and actually struck up a conversation.

You remember how nice she was, how charming, but most of all you remember the way she looked at you, like you were the only one in the room. You’d left the library that day with an irrational case of butterflies in your stomach.

And then she was back the next week, and the next, and you realised with a guilty sort of happiness that Perrin wouldn’t be coming back anymore. Mon, it would seem, had chosen to take over her daughter’s visits full time.

The progression of your relationship had unfolded so naturally that you hadn’t even noticed it was truly happening until you found yourself sitting beside her in one of the alcoves, a giant old book set on the table between you, and she said something that made you laugh. You were only inches away from each other, gravitating together in a way that just felt natural, her eyes, flicking down to your lips for a split second before she looked away.

Yes, poring over dusty books with you going on about ancient lore while she listens in pleasant silence has become a weekly pastime you’ve begun to look forward to.

“What are you in the mood for this time? We still have the final pages of the Tome of the Gargantuan to get through, if you’re interested.”

“That’ll do.”

“The usual alcove?”

“Please.”

Her shortness, while still pleasant enough, strikes you as odd. The concern inside you grows. Normally she... talks more - asks you about your day.

With a press of a button, you select the Tome from the list and turn to lead her through the shelves to your spot.

Her even footsteps sound behind you, muffled by the carpeted floor, and the hairs raise on the back of your neck in awareness.

It’s strange, having her here, alone. There’s a different sort of energy flowing between you, urging you to look back at her, to speak openly and honestly about how you feel. Like there are more important things for her to hear you say than the lore you read her when her daughter is around.

The alcove is one of many spread throughout the library. It sits tucked against the far wall - plush seating that curves around the table in the centre, with adjustable lighting, and a small window to see out into the city. You pause as you reach it, eyes trailing the name Mothma enscribed above the alcove in gold, delicate writing.

A hand closes around your waist.

Your breath stills as Mon slides past you to take a seat. Stars. Warmth spreads through you at her touch, and it’s like you’re anchored to the floor, unable to move or get out of her way. She only removes her hand from you at the last second to adjust herself into the nook, looking up at you, an eyebrow raised. “Admiring it?”

“Pardon?”

She smiles and gestures up to the inscription. “I think it turned out lovely, if a little over the top. I didn’t do it for the naming rights, you know.”

You nod. “I know.” And you do. It’s something you’ll never be able to repay her for.

Her family became a donor several weeks ago. You found out when, on Mon and Lieda’s next visit, they had shown up with a worker to make the inscription on the alcove wall. Your heart was in your throat when you realised, turning your gaze to Mon in shock and awe.

You saved us?

Yes, well, she looked down, a slight flush of colour in her cheeks, Lieda would miss this place terribly if it were gone.

Biting your lip, you slide into the nook alongside her and rest your elbow on the table, leaning forward to key in your reading access code.

The book loads up on the screen. You smile and glance beside you, at Mon. “You remember where we left off?”

“Something about a fire.”

“...and if there was any evidence, the fire destroyed it so completely it was never found again,” you read, then glance up at her again.

“That’s it,” she nods, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and she looks down far too quickly.

“Mon,” you say, her name coming out of your mouth on instinct, but you’re worried for her. You take her hand in yours. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I - ” she exhales sharply, and smooths her other hand over the top of yours. And as she looks down, something in her changes.

You swallow.

She flicks her gaze back up to you, holding you in the seriousness of her gaze. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

In love...? You blink. Her words echo through your mind. What happened to her today? You’re frozen in place, your mind going blank, unable to look away from her - this woman who says and does the most unexpected things. “I...”

Her eyebrows raise, and she turns away from you, withdrawing her hands. “Stars, that was incredibly inappropriate of me. I - I’m so sorry...” She gathers her skirts.

It happens before you realise what you’re doing - you take her by the shoulder and pull her back in her seat, and suddenly your face is only inches from hers. “Wait.”

She stares at you, a wild look in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. You search her eyes, unsure what to say, caught completely off guard. Her gaze flicks down to your lips, and you part them, but nothing comes out.

Then she surges forward and slants her mouth on yours, pulling you into her sudden, wild kiss.

You gasp into it, a flood of warmth rushing through your veins. Mon, kissing you. It doesn’t feel real. But your body responds on instinct, kissing her back as energy and desire rise within you.

You had thought about kissing her before now, entertained the occasional pleasant daydream, but nothing compares to the actual feeling of her lips on yours.

Her hands are all over you, pulling you closer, exploring your body in expert ways, clinging to you as though she’s afraid you might disappear. It’s blissful, allowing you to sink further into her touch as you lose track of anything else.

“Mon,” you breathe into her kiss.

She breaks away, resting her forehead against you, her eyes closed tight. “I’m sorry.” She kisses you again, slow and sensual. “I had a bad day, and I needed to see you.” Her lips move over yours, eliciting a groan from you. “You’re my escape.”

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” you ask, thinking of Perrin.

She brings a hand up, curling her fingers beneath your chin, holding your attention. “I am watched,” she begins, “every minute of every day. I know the risks.” She pulls you closer, past her face so she has access to your neck. “Which is why I walked here without my driver.” The words, spoken softly, purr over your skin.

You tilt your head back, eyes sliding shut.

Her breath fans over your pulse point, her nose brushing along your skin. “So I could have you alone for once.”

“Yes,” you breathe.

She’s seducing you, you realise all too late as she murmurs in your ear. “My sweet, innocent, librarian.”

“Mon.” Visions of sitting on her lap, bending over the table, of sliding down onto your knees, flash through your mind; overwhelmed by her fierce and sudden passion. “I love you too, you know. I’m yours.”

She stills, her hands coming to rest on your waist, her eyes seeking yours again. “And I’m yours.” She entwines her hand with yours, bringing it up to her mouth to kiss. A chivalrous act that has heat rising to your face. “Even when I have to pretend otherwise.”

You nod. “I understand.”

She looks down, and sighs, shaking her head. “My driver will be here shortly. I can’t stay.”

No. You search her eyes, willing her to not to go, but she’s already pulling away. 

“When will I see you again?”

Guilt flashes in her eyes. “With Lieda.”

“When will I see you again, alone?” you ask.

She hesitates, her hand gently squeezing yours like a promise. “I’ll make time.”

You believe her.

Before she can try to leave again, you pull her in for another kiss, slanting your mouth on hers and pouring all your unexpressed desires into her. You can’t help it; this is all too much at once, and you need more. She accepts it; remaining in place, her lips parting for you, allowing you to take the lead.

But the sound of the doors sliding open jolts you from the spell.

Her driver.

Mon pulls back, and, with a deep, mournful darkness in her eyes, strokes your cheek. “I will see you again soon.”

You feel like crying. Instead, you lean into her touch, cherishing the moment before it’s over. Your words come out a low, gentle prayer.

“Be safe, Mon.”

And then she’s gone.

#andor bingo #andor #andor fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #mon mothma #mon mothma fanfiction #mon mothma x reader #mon mothma x you #mon mothma x y/n #wlw #lesbian #bisexual #sil's writing

[liveslivedinthemind]

It’s called Freefall Chapter 2

Summary: When you're born, the Universe has already decided who will be your soulmate by marking their first touch on your skin. Some of those soul marks are just a small fingerprint on their shoulder, or maybe a hand mark from a handshake. Some even have multiple, and it is never sure what kind of a bond you're destined to have with your soulmate. Alexandra Turner is a special case however, as her whole body is covered in marks. 24 to be exact. What she doesn't know that there's someone else out there with 24 marks who's waiting for her to bump into them.

Pairing: Original Female Character x Kevin Wendell Crumb/Dennis/Barry/the whole system

Fandom: Split

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Author’s note: Please feel free to let me know if I have messed something up or if you have any advice on how I can improve my writing. I hope you enjoy!

If you wish to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know :)

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“No fucking way…”

Those words had just slipped out of Barry’s mouth as he looked at the woman behind him he had most likely just saved from falling on the stairs. A wide grin grew on his face as he stopped walking on the stairs and leaned against the handrailing. He had always been wondering how he’d meet his soulmate, daydreaming up all kinds of unexpected romantic encounters, yet the truth happened to be so simple. Something he never thought would happen with himself, it seemed so uncharacteristic to him yet so poetically fitting. Of course he’d meet them on his way to the place he so desperately hoped would help Kevin, soulmates were supposed to be the ones who would be a companion on one’s life journey. He took it as a sign from the Universe that this was a good thing, a sign that they were on the right path.

The smile on his lips slowly faded away though as he realized that his excitement was most definitely not matched. Alex looked horrified and all the blood had drained from her face as she just stared at the stranger in front of her. Her mind was running as fast as it could, trying to figure out what had just happened, what to say, how to stand, how to speak. And eventually, she could recognize only one thought - ‘Run… Run… I need to run!’

“I have to go, I just remembered that I… have to go.”

She whispered out, looking away from the man. She then quickly turned around and rushed down the stairs and immediately out of the building. The rain had picked up even more and the cold downpour was a welcomed guest to Alex as it cleared her mind just a little bit. She made her way down the street, dodging the people and making sure she didn’t stick out in the crowd. She needed a place to hide herself for just a moment, a tucked away alley or something where she could catch her breath and collect herself. 

Taking a turn to her right, she finally leaned against the wall of what seemed to be a small apartment complex. Her lungs were struggling to calm themselves from both the shock of sudden rushing, and from meeting someone she didn’t think she would ever meet. Her fingers gently rested on her shoulder where his mark was located, the rain creating some white noise for her to just disappear from the world a little bit. Alex just wanted to exist as no one for a moment, give herself that peace of not having to deal with anything. 

Rain fell onto her face and the wind turned her cheeks a bright shade of red but she didn’t notice anything around her. Alex felt her breath calming down to the point where she spent more time in a state of holding her breath than she did actively breathing. This allowed her to very slowly return to reality and she looked up at the sky, allowing the drops to coat her entire face as she tried to go over everything that had happened in the past couple of minutes of her life.

Alex had met one of her soulmates, there was no denying that. She didn’t even catch his name or a good look of his face but from what she could remember, he was a force to be reckoned with. He had a big muscular frame, even though it was hidden by the baggy coat and jeans. He was fashionable, she couldn’t deny that, and the beanie he wore gave her a youthful image. Much younger than his face portrayed, and she had a feeling that underneath the hat, he was fully shaven. And his eyes had been so kind, especially when he had realized that she was his soulmate. She could have sworn she saw them sparkle for a second. 

But Alex couldn’t go back to him, she didn’t want to pass on the pain that he’d have to share her with 23 other people who were still somewhere out there. There were rumors of what happened to those who ignored the connection between soulmates, but she was certain that it must be a lot smaller compared to the agony of someone having to be together with such an attention whore as herself. Alex just couldn’t risk seeing the disappointment of the man’s face. 

With a soft sigh of a held breath leaving her lips, Alex pushed herself to stand from the wall and took out her phone. She sent Doctor Fletcher a short email, saying that she unfortunately has to cancel her appointment and to let her know if she would need to pay for any kind of fee for a no-show since she did cancel at such a short notice. Tension was rising in her body as she knew it was not the most polite thing to do but she couldn’t risk seeing that man once again. She’d just find a new therapist somewhere far away from this place, maybe she could try online therapy instead. 

While pulling her headphones out of her bag, she put them on and turned back onto the busy street. Alex could feel an emptiness in her chest and it was weighing her down, but she just kept walking in the opposite direction to the good doctor’s office. The tears were stinging her eyes, but she just excused it to herself as it was a result of the rain and wind irritating them. It was easier that way for her to accept what she had chosen to do. It was always easier for her to just continue to exist in her current state than to risk any changes.

It was made clear to her that the Universe had other plans for her however because the first person she saw when she finally looked up from her shoes was that man. Her soulmate. It was clear he had been running from his ragged breathing and red face. He smiled at her though and tried to catch his breath as he spoke up,

“There you are, I’ve been running up and down the street like a loon.”

His voice was filled with happiness and the smile on his face never dropped as he swallowed and let out a final big breath. Alex looked up at him, unable to say anything, because the glimmer in his eyes made her heart and stomach erupt into millions of tiny yellow butterflies. She bit her bottom lip hard to make sure she wouldn’t smile back as the man finally introduced himself.

“I’m Barry by the way, and you have no idea how hard I’ve tried to find you.”

‘Barry… sounds cheerful.’

Alex thought to herself before she softly whispered,

“I’m Alex. I…”

She trailed off, unable to actually say that she thought it would be best for them to part ways out loud. No one knew of her numerous soul marks, she was sure even her parents had forgotten the full amount, and part of her had always thought she wouldn’t meet even one of them so she never really thought about how she’d tell them about it. Luckily for her, Barry spoke up once again.

“Listen, I’ve got a feeling we need to talk about some things because I’ve got a couple more marks on me.”

He said those words with such ease as if they were talking about the weather. Alex’s eyes widened and her breath got caught in her chest - he had more marks too? How many did he have? It possibly couldn’t be as many as she did. So many questions ran through her head and she was getting so overwhelmed that she had to dig her fingernails into the palm of her hand to keep herself grounded in the moment. She knew she had to say something, anything, but the best she could do was nod. It was as if her mind and body were refusing her to open her mouth.

Barry could see the amount of anxiety and tension coursing through Alex’s veins and he let out a sad chuckle before he tilted his head and said softly,

“Come, I know a quiet place and don’t worry about Doctor Fletcher. I mentioned to her what happened and she’s more than happy to reschedule with you.”

He somehow had an inkling that Alex would worry about her session and whether or not it would be rescheduled on time so he made sure to run up to his therapist’s office first and give her a short summary of what had happened before he ran after her. It looked like it was the right move on his side as Alex gave him a soft smile and another nod. 

He motioned her to follow him, knowing it would be a bit too forward of him to put his arm around her at that moment. Alex started to walk half a step behind him, still unable to speak, but something in her chest was slowly blooming. Like the first snowdrop popping its head through the cold ground as the first sign of spring. 

< Chapter 1                                                      Chapter 3 >

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Taglist: @royaltysuite

#split 2016 #split #split 2016 fanfiction #split fanfiction #split fanfic #split x reader #split dennis #split barry #reader x dennis #reader x barry #reader x kevin crumb #reader x kevin wendell crumb #oc x dennis #oc x barry #oc x kevin crumb #soulmark!au #soulmate!au

[vampkaashis-wife]

“I know I have a heart because I can feel it breaking.”

# 7 from this prompt list 

Xiao seldom sleeps, but he never fails to stay by you while you do. It’s the only way to be sure that you’re safe - plus, he hasn’t needed sleep for a very long time.

Sleep, for someone like him, is not restful. Nothing good comes of it. 

Sleep, for someone like you…. He thinks you are beautiful regardless, but something about your sleeping face comforts him. The unveiling of your waking emotions in the daze of sleep indicates your trust in him. Should he break that trust, he may just fall apart himself. When you sleep, he sees a different side to the world. The same world that had so often burned him and scorned him, that has failed him in everything that mattered and comforted him in everything that didn’t. 

Perhaps it was not the same world after all.

Perhaps the world with you in it is something else entirely. The streets of Liyue glow a little differently at night when you take him to dinner (Always almond tofu. Always thinking about him, even when there are a million other things you might want to eat. He’s noticed, whether you intended for him to or not). A new age - not the age of adepti nor the age of humans. Simply the age of you. 

“How do I know I love her? Because I can sleep after I talk to her.” Someone had told him that once, and he didn’t know what to make of it until you.

Xiao seldom sleeps, but when he travels with you, he sleeps more than he usually does. It’s a natural progression when you lay with him and talk to him about any and everything. He closes his eyes to listen to you speak, and before he knows it, he’s enveloped by the heavy hands of sleep. 

-

You wake in the middle of the night to find your bed a little colder, though the blankets are tucked neatly around you. The foot you remember sticking out of the blanket is back under it, and there is only one possible culprit. With a soft smile, you shuffle out of bed, picking up a shawl and wrapping yourself in it as you set out to find the mysterious figure you’ve come to love. 

Just outside your room, you’re met with a harsh hand slamming you into a wall and a spear pointed at you from a distance.

“Xiao,” you manage to croak in your half-asleep voice. “Xiao, it’s me.”

A fire blazes in his eyes, ever-present but distant all at once. Carefully pushing the spear aside and side-stepping, you try again. “Xiao. Sweetie. You’re safe. I’m safe.”

Safe. 

Safe?

A foreign word that fights against his beating heart. Does he even have one of those? After all he’s done, after all he’s endured… does he even have a heart? After all the shards of it he’s given to you, does he have anything left?

Does it matter? How many other people has he given shards of his heart to, only to be left alone in the end?

Numb, he lets you peel the spear away and lean it gently against the wall. Shifting, you place his hand flat against the pulse point on your neck. “They didn’t kill me. I didn’t disappear.” Of late, that seems to be the theme of his dreams. Whether that was the case this time remains unseen.

His eyes do not clear.

He looks at you, but does not see. 

Carefully, you pull him to the floor with you, wrapping him in a hug. His head rests on your chest, his shoulders enveloped in your shawl and your arms. 

He stares still, at nothing. At everything? 

You sit like that for a long while, tracing over the tattoo on his arm, drawing a new one on top of it. Once in a while, he murmurs your name. His breathing slows more each time you respond to it.

Eventually, when the moon and sun prepare to switch spots in the sky, you prompt, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Xiao shifts, reaching to stroke your hair. “I know I have a heart,” he murmurs, “because I can feel it breaking.” He searches your eyes, then plants a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

For a moment, you consider that. “You know you have a heart,” you repeat, “not only because you can feel it, but because you gave it to me to take care of. I won’t rest while you’re out here breaking, Xiao. I know you’re not used to it, and that’s fine, but you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

That’s right. He’s not alone anymore. 

He shifts again, placing his ear next to your heart. I know I have a heart, he amends, because I can hear it beating. His heart, given to you, beating in tandem with the heart you already owned. 

A clarity shifts over him, and he relaxes just a little. 

-

Note: “How do I know I love her? Because I can sleep after I talk to her.” is a line from Maggie Stiefvater’s The Raven Cycle  

#xiao x reader #xiao angst #genshin x reader #genshin angst #more of a hurt comfort tho i suppose

[tending-the-hearth]

like not to be annoying but i'm really hoping that the Scoops Troop and their trauma is addressed in some way in s5 because i think the four of them all deserve like a five day nap and some blankets

i'm currently thinking about Scoops Troop-only movie nights and sleepovers, days spent with only the four of them where they're training or practicing with new weapons, ESPECIALLY in the days following everything that happens with Vecna.

Lucas is at Max's bedside 24/7, understandably so, but Erica does not want to be without a big brother, as much as she refuses to admit it, so she all but demands that her parents let her stay at Steve's, because his house definitely becomes the hub for Party Activity when everyone returns, miraculously untouched by earthquakes and open gates.

but in those few days post-Vecna, when everyone's still scrambling, the Scoops Troop stays nestled away in Steve's house, blankets and pillows piled in front of the couch as a mindless animated movie plays on the television.

Dustin's finally cried himself to sleep for the second time, head tucked beneath Steve's as he clings to his brother in all but blood with a grip that rivals the demobats, the memories of Eddie's lifeless body replaced only by the memories of stumbling into the Russian lab and seeing his best friend half-dead, seeing the life leaving the Russian doctor's eyes as Dustin did what he had to do to save Steve.

Erica's wrapped up in a blanket, held close by Robin. Erica, who was just beginning to get over the claustrophobia that had haunted her since crawling through the air ducts at Starcourt, now only made much, much worse by being tackled to the ground in the dark by a boy twice her size who threatened her life, just because she wanted to protect her brother.

Robin, who's running a gentle hand over Erica's back as she hums softly along to the movie, cheek pressed into Steve's hand, once again kept awake and haunted by the sounds of her platonic soulmate's screams, the sight of him limp and bleeding, looking half-alive, and being able to do nothing but beg him to stay alive.

And Steve's got one arm around Dustin, and his other is holding Robin tightly. He's unable to sleep, kept awake by the sounds of his kids sniffling and quietly crying, kept awake by the feeling of his airway being cut off, remembering the oxygen deprivation feeling a little too close to the Russian drugs, trying to keep himself as

Steve, who's already lost one of his kids, one of his little sisters, and who will die before he lets anything happen to the rest of his kids, who keeps his nail bat and Eddie's shield next to their cuddle pile just in case, who answers the door already armed to the teeth, because he'll be damned if someone hurts his family.

Robin, who took Eddie's spear and modifies it to be more comfortable, who is so determined to protect whatever innocence these kids have left has Steve show her how to stand when fighting with it so she won't trip over herself.

Dustin, who knows how it feels to take a life, and as much as he doesn't want to kill anymore, knows that those creatures are still out there, and he knows how to make a homemade blowtorch with hairspray and a lighter, and who starts keeping those supplies in his bag.

Erica, who's still a child, who Steve and Robin are loathe to give a weapon to, even though they know she needs one, who takes Lucas' old slingshot, and starts practicing every day, because her aim needs to be perfect if she wants to protect those who are protecting her.

this little found family within a found family, bonded by trauma that none of the other members of the Party have experienced.

platonic soulmates glued together in a way no one else could ever understand.

#the way stobin getting tortured was brushed under the rug #and the fact that dustin canonically killed somebody???? #also look me in the eye and tell me erica isn't claustraphobic #because you can't #scoops troop said platonic soulmate supremacy and i stand by that #scoops troop #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #stranger things

[aneliasthetic]

Crowman: an essay on god knows what.

While packing for college, knowing that there was a possibility of me never having the opportunity to come back again, I prioritised only the most essential of my belongings. The last gift from my ageing grandparents. Every letter a loved one has written to me. A signed poetry book from my only maternal figure confessing, “I love you and I believe in you.”

And then there was Crowman.

Crowman is a 7 inch tall clay statue of a humanoid crow, draped in rust green and bowing with crossed feather-fingers behind his back. He was handmade by one of the best friends I have ever had in my life, H.

H is a force of nature never to be trifled with. She is most definitely the strongest person I know, and though not without flinching, she was the first person in my life to know me as I am. I loved H in ways that transcended platonic love or romance— to me, she was nothing short of blood. And in many ways, H saved me from myself throughout the 5 years that I had the absolute fortune of knowing her.

H is no longer in my life. This is my fault. And H’s. And others’. It depends on the story you ask for. It depends on the story you need.

H had cut me out of her life 6 months before I even touched a packing list. And yet here I was, wrapping her beloved child in the softest sheets I could find before carefully tucking him away into the side of my suitcase— before I had even sorted half of my luggage clothes. I remember turning him over and over in my hands, running my skin across the faux-smooth feel of the very surfaces H must have poured hours into moulding.

I remember feeling numb. Numb but with a distant instinct pleading, “Keep him. Keep him safe. Please.”

When I moved into my dorm, one of the first things I did was knock Crowman over and break his beak off. All I did in response was stare. It was kind of funny. The unfortunate part of attending a small high school was that even once you make the decision to cut someone out of your life entirely, you still have to see them 8 hours a day, 5 days a week— even more if you’re in your senior year and everyone is growing anxiously nostalgic for get-togethers and graduation events. So, before H left my life entirely, only my ability to speak to her did.

A month passed before I finally found an adhesive that would return Crowman’s beak to him.

It was the underside of a bandaid. A big bandage along the base of his beak.

But I suppose that’s also how we looked from afar. The raggedy crew of two, left behind by our older friends, clinging to what we could and destroying each other in the process.

H. The person who saved me more times than I can count, in more ways that I can fathom. H. The person who broke me so completely, who showed me depths of grief I wasn’t mature enough to comprehend.

A false dichotomy is the wrongful assumption that there are only two sides to one whole. In most cases, there exists a multiplicity. In some cases, there only exists the whole: paradoxical yet complete in itself. This is one of them. This is a story where every claim is true, all justification is wrong, and no crime is righted. This is the story I have been turning over and over in my hands, trying desperately to comprehend how she smoothed its creases.

A story begs to be told, and I have told it in a hundred ways. As the knight. As the princess. As the dragon. And as the timeless land itself. I have driven myself to the brink of collapse, to the point of near complete hospitalisation in my ravenous desire for some almighty truth. For a shred of understanding for why.

Why did it turn out this way?

Why did she do what she did?

Why did I commit the crimes brought against me?

But most importantly: Why did I have to lose her?

As children, we’re told stories to draw a mist over the brutality of realness— to help fragile minds begin to comprehend a senseless world. As adults, we unlearn these stories through lessons unsweetened. The story I have been trying to unlearn for far too long is the one of a hero and a dragon.

It’s a uniquely raw experience to face your shadow and find none other than an old dog. As of right now, my greatest flaws and weaknesses are also the very things that have kept me alive, kicking and screaming, for so long.

I think that when she left, my body reacted to what it perceived as a mortal threat in the only way familiar to us: telling a good story. And thus, the story began. Of me as the hero and her as the dragon.

It wasn’t long before the pages began to peel— to twist but not yet tear. I found myself strung between two roles, two equally compelling stories, two equally damning convictions. Was I the villain or the vilified?

The answer is a resounding yes. Yes, you are.

Here’s where the confession comes in: I am an immoral being consistently seeking judgement. I am a radical existentialist who still needs to justify his own existence. And I am not often doing a great job at it.

Guilt is my poison of choice. For every many times I have genuinely contemplated cutting my time short, it has been under the influence of guilt. It has been a coward’s solution to a seemingly overwhelming burden: to do good in the face of having been bad.

Because it’s easy to be a bad person who occasionally does good. Or at least, easier than it is to be a good person who occasionally does bad. One is a miracle, the other is a crime. So, I take the easy route and call myself a bad person because it gives me the best view of an emergency exit.

Is this too simplistic an explanation of how my (extremely unreliable) mind works? Does it negate to analyse all the ways in which my mental conditions influence my personhood and actions? Perhaps, but I am not here for comprehension. I am not even here for a stage. I think today, maybe just today, I’m here for my beak.

And this is what I need to say:

My name is Elias Lu. I am 18 years old, 5’8 with the receipts to prove it, and I am an audible, visible, exploding-like-teenagers-with-illegal-fireworks shitshow. I have a track record for loving most of all the very people who have hurt me or been hurt as a result. I am not a good person, nor will I ever be, but that does not make it any less my dream. On occasion, I am a bad person, and during these occasions, the best I can do is take responsibility for my actions, and I often fail to do even that.

But I have had the good fortune of being loved. I have had the fortune of both knowing and being known. And from this, I can say that the effort is worth making. Everything I do to find what people call “the good life” is because the ones in my life have shown a thousand times over that they are worth doing good by. And I think that’s the truest compass I can have: a drive based in the unconditional, timeless, boundless love I hold and have held with others.

My life is worth living because of the people in it. Even if I am directionless at the moment. Even if my body is trying to convince me otherwise. Even if those people are no longer by my side.

This is what Crowman is to me. The bow of a trickster; the earnestness of a criminal. A creature who has paid for his mouth; a promise beyond voice and decay. In other words, he is a reminder that my work here is not yet done, that even a liar can attempt valliance.

I am going to keep stumbling even as I map this path. But I am writing this now to remind myself of all the reasons why I keep going. Thank you for reading my work. Thank you for being a part of my life. You are part of all those reasons. I love you. Thank you for loving me. Don’t go where I can’t follow. And if you do, please consider sending a letter.

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