#don’t talk about racing in the snow if you don’t want me to steal it

[rebelliousstories]

Are We Too Late?

Relationship: Austin Butler x Reader

Fandom: Austin Butler RPF

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Brief strong language, fluff, angst

Word Count: 3,678

Main Masterlist: Here

Elvis/Austin Butler Masterlist: Here

Summary: After a tumultuous breakup, Austin is starring alongside his ex-girlfriend. However, can they remain professional when their characters are on the verge of a breakup themselves?

They’ve got to be kidding. Sure it was rumored on social media, but they weren’t serious or right were they? The phone call with the agent was not helpful at all.

“Come on, Diana. Please tell me he’s not a part of this film?” She asked, holding her head in one hand, and her phone in the other.

“I’m sorry sweetie, but he is. I get that you two have history together but this film will be good for your career. You can’t let him get in the way of that. Just be professional, and only speak to him when you need and you should be good to go.” Yeah. Really helpful advice there. But she couldn’t turn down this film. Having the rumored cast online had sparked plenty of media coverage for the film, and her dropping out now would spark some talk about her in a way she just didn’t want right now. She hung up the call shortly afterwards, and sat amongst her packing. The flight to Georgia would leave in the morning, and she needed all the time in the world to clear her head.

She placed shirts, pants, and anything else she would need for the next two or three months in the suitcase. Her smaller spare suitcase was on standby, should she need it. Where was her bracelet? It was around her somewhere. Ah, there it is. Right next to the candle in her room, in the jewelry holder she had. As she removed the bracelet, her eyes drifted to an old crumpled photo. The colored images stared at her and mocked her. She pulled the photo strip out of the bottom of the jewelry and looked at the date on the back.

~

January 4th, 2017

Snow fell around the couple that was skating around the rink. The cold only served to pull them closer together. The girl laughed as the boy held her hand, stumbling a bit on the ice. Winters in New York were something else, but when they both had off for New Years, her lovely boyfriend decided to treat her to a two-week long getaway to the frigid city.

“Aus! Be careful baby. Don’t fall please! Cause if you fall, then I fall, and no one will help either of us up.” She giggled out. Her boyfriend simply laughed at her.

“Relax, princess. I’m a natural!” He says with pride, and proceeds to almost fall while still holding her hand.

“Sure you are, lover boy.” She pulls him back up, and wrap her arms around his waist. He smiles down at her and places a kiss on her red nose. It scrunches up, and she leans up to steal a kiss from him.

~

Ping! She was broken out of her memory by her laptop going off. She made her way over to the machine, and opened her email. There was her itinerary for after she lands. Everything was going to be fine. Hopefully.

~

“Are you sure she’s on the project? There’s no way to get out of the contract?” The young man asked his agent over the phone. He had just received the cast list for the table read, and he had no idea that she was going to be his co star. It was rumored online, but he had yet to have anything confirmed.

“Sorry, Austin. But you’ve got to go. Who cares if she’s on cast? You need to be professional and take this job. It’s a little late to get out of the contract, dude.” He let out a deep sigh and rubbed his hands down his face.

“Alright man. I’m gonna let you go. I’ve gotta finish getting ready to go to the airport.” The call was ended shortly afterwards, and the actor stood next to his luggage. He was just waiting on the Uber to get to his apartment, but his mind started racing. It had been a while since they wre broken up, but Austin still thought of her everyday. The relationship had ended, but his feelings had not. Opening his phone, he found his favorite photos, and pulled the one that he often looked at late at night when he needed to remember a happier time.

~

August 28th, 2018

The smell of pasta drifted through the apartment the moment Austin walked in. The interviews that day were long and exhausting, but hopefully worth it.

“Babe!” He called out, but there was no answer.

“Baby!” He called out yet again, and decided to look around the apartment. No one in the living room, and no answ- oh. He found her. Leaning against the refrigerator, he took in the scene he stumbled into. A pot of spaghetti was boiling on the stove, as well as a great smelling bolognese sauce next to it. She was singing quietly and dancing around in place while she cooked. None of the clothes on here body were her’s. That was his loose sweatshirt, and his sweatpants that were surely rolled up several times to make sure that they were staying on her hips. She turned around to grab something, but got startled by Austin suddenly being behind her. She didn’t notice the phone that was in his hands and pointed at her.

“Baby!!” She ran over and tackled Austin. He opened his arms just in time for her to barrel into his chest. He laughed at her excited demeanor and pressed a kiss to her head. He reached hi hand up and took one of her earbuds out, and let her lean back into his arms.

“I thought you weren’t getting home till much later.” She said, rubbing her hands up and down his back. Austin smiled down at her.

“We wrapped up early and I just wanted to get home to you, sweet girl.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, to which she reciprocated. Before they got too lost in the moment, she abruptly turned away from her boyfriend.

“Oh the food!” She quickly made sure nothing was burnt or over cooked before she drained the pasta.

“Baby, I love you but please go shower before dinner. It’ll be waiting for you when you get out.” She worked to put the meal together while Austin chuckled at her and started to walk away.

“Are you saying I stink?” He called from the bathroom, his voice full of teasing.

“God yes!” She replied from the kitchen; her voice matching his. He laughed at this and began to start up his shower. Austin pulled his phone out and looked at the photo he had. The excited look on her face, his clothes. This was definitely his favorite photo he had ever taken.

~

Flight 987 now boarding.

Austin grabbed his carry on, and headed towards his gate. Atlanta Georgia was waiting for him. But his mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that she was going to be his co-star for this film. How could no one have told him? He hadn’t seen her in person since the breakup. In fact, she hadn’t even been seen by the media that much following the split. He was nervous about seeing her after all this time. But nothing was going to keep him from being professional.

The flight was uneventful. Just several hours for him to take a nap, and let his mind run wild about seeing her again. Austin like to remember when she was happy with him; all smiles and laughter. The lonely nights were hard, but they usually tried to call each other. And then it all broke. There was screaming and yelling, things thrown to the ground in anger. And just like that, their relationship was through. There was nothing left to save.

~

Airports were always crazy, that much she knew. Georgia was gorgeous as always; the view helped quell her racing mind a little. The ride to the hotel allowed her to watch the setting Atlanta sun. But the chaos ensued once she arrived at the table read the next day.

“Alright, now,” her manager started in the Uber ride, “you know that Austin will be there. Just remain polite and courteous, and professional. Don’t get kicked out of this project because you can’t keep it together in front of your ex.” Well. That was a frank response. The actress turned to look at her manager with a look. A look that screamed, “really?”

“Di, come on. I’m always professional.” But her hands started shaking as she saw the building pull into view. Austin looked like he was doing well for himself since their breakup. Taking on more, higher profile roles. As much as she hated them being apart, she was glad that he had finally started getting the recognition he deserved. The manager and actress duo stepped out of the vehicle, and made their way inside. They both signed in, and Diana left her actress to mingle with the other managers and crew.

The young lady was handed a script and given the chance to review it for a minute before they would all sit down and begin the read through. That’s when she heard him. He was laughing at something, but quickly dialed it down once he got into the room. His baritone voice pierced her head, despite the low volume. She caught her manager’s eye across the room, who then proceeded to encourage her to stand up and say hi. She knew if she didn’t, Diana would come across the room and make her, so she stood up and turned to face him. He looked just as gorgeous now as back then. His blonde hair coiffed up, and his outfit was impeccable. The small gold chain hung around his neck and highlighted his chest. And her breath got caught in her throat.

“Austin.” The name came out without a second thought, and she couldn’t take it back once it was in the open. His blue eyes came to rest on her features. The wispy hairs left down framed her face beautifully. Her eyes sparkled as she took him in. There was nothing he wanted more than to take her into his arms, but he couldn’t.

“Hey.” His voice matched hers in disbelief that the other was actually in front of them. He came closer to her but stopped just a few feet short. Austin’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to find his words. Her mouth operated the same as she couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Alright let’s get started.” The director called out through the room. Austin sat right next to her for the table read. It was so distracting to her. His cologne drifted into her nose; was that the same cologne she got him for his birthday? It was difficult to concentrate when the debilitating scent of musk and vanilla was in her nose. Hopefully this project wasn’t going to be too difficult.

~

“All I asked for was for you to admit that we’re together!” She screamed at the blonde man. His face was angry, but his eyes couldn’t lie about the hurt he felt.

“I’m trying to protect you, Tiffany. Do you understand what would happen if I openly admitted you were with me? I would be putting a target on your back, and I’ll be damned if you get hurt!” He threw items off the table and she flinched as they fell.

“For God’s sake, Finn,” she looked down defeated, “I don’t want to be your secret anymore. So either man up or lose me forever.” They stood there, at a standstill. Neither one breaking.

“Cut!” And they broke the scene. The director came up to the duo while props reset the scene.

“Okay, you two. You’re holding back,” the pair started to protest, “I don’t want to hear it. Reach deep down and get it together. You’re both holding back on the emotion. Let loose. I want to be crying by the end of this.” He left the pair to their own devices, and went to discuss things with the other crew.

“Are you okay? You seem a little off today.” Austin said softly as he approached her. His hand reached across to rest on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

“I’m fine, Austin.” Her tone betrayed frustration. She knew she wasn’t giving it her all but she didn’t want to fully feel the emotions of her character. If she felt those feelings, she knew she would be transported back to that night. Austin sighed and pursed her lips.

“You can lie to anyone else in this room, except me.” She dared to look up at him. His eyes were sympathetic, and she knew he was right. She couldn’t ever lie to him. The scene was reset, their director called for a quiet set, and then it began again.

“Are you ever going to admit that I exist to your friends?” The young actress asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She leaned against the counter of the small room.

“Tiff, I already told you. This is so I can protect you.” Her co star replied. His hands ran through his styled hair, and rested his elbows on the counter. They were on opposite sides of the room. And tensions were rising.

“Why then? Why can your friends be open about who their dating but you can’t? I’m sick of being you’re little dirty secret that you come to when you need someone to screw.” She turned to face the man who was a little confused.

“Darling,” he started but she wasn’t having it.

“I’m not your darling!” She yelled, taking the man in front of her aback.

“I stopped being your darling ages ago because you couldn’t even admit to the world that we were together. You kept me hidden away, just because you were too scared about being seen with me in public. So no, don’t call me darling.” She fired off. Austin noticed immediately that she was going way off script, but she didn’t. She was so enveloped in her emotions that nothing could break her from the current scene. He softly called her name but she didn’t notice.

“And, when I bring it up to you, you just tell me that it’s not time. You want to keep it to ourselves for a little while longer. So what do I have to do Austin?!” His eyes became watery, as he listened to her pleas.

“I’m trying to look out for both of us. Do you know what would happen if the press got a hold of this? They’d turn our relationship inside out, and crawl up our asses sideways.” Austin stated back at her. He was trying desperately not to shout at her, but his volume was getting harder and harder to control.

“Do you think I care about that? Honestly, Austin,” she moved around the island to cup his face in her hands, “I want to be able to hold your hand as we walk to go get coffee. I want to kiss you when we go on drives around town. I need to be able to hold you when we both get nervous on red carpets. I want the world to know that you’re mine and I’m yours. Please, just let me have that.” She begged, tears falling down her face. Austin’s red rimmed eyes fell onto hers. His hands grabbed hers, and he pressed a kiss to her palm.

“I can’t. I don’t want them to destroy my relationship because they want to interject wherever they see fit.” His eyes fell as he tried to bury himself in her embrace. But her hands fell from his face, and she stepped away. He stayed there as he broke down into tears. He heard her walk away, and stuff being moved in the bedroom. She walked back out a moment later with her duffle bag.

“The only person who can destroy this relationship is us. The world doesn’t sleep in our bed, we do.” He finally looked up to see her ready to leave the apartment. Austin’s head started shaking as he walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her as he cried and pleaded.

“Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry, don’t go.” She felt her resolve almost break, but there was going to be no compromise on this subject. She set her bag down and took his head into her hands once again. Kisses were pressed against Austin’s head and face.

“I need to go Aus. If I don’t leave now, I’ll never leave. I love you so much, but we can’t keep this up. I love you. I need to go. You need to let me go Austin.” She had to use all of her strength to peel his hands away from her. Once she did, she picked up her bags once again, tears streaming down her face. She drove away from her love, her life, and her hope. Austin was left alone in the home they had made, with nothing except himself and his memories.

Austin couldn’t help remembering that fateful night. Her face was the same one that pleaded with him. His heart felt just as heavy as before when he couldn’t give her what she wanted because his own insecurities plagued his mind. She seemed to get a hold of herself, and felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

“Excuse me. I need a break.” She ran off set, leaving Austin once again in the dust. Everyone was still trying to understand what just happened. Her manager sat next to his, and both shared a look. A look of understanding and heartache. The director called for a five minute break, and Austin dashed out of the room before the full sentence left his mouth.

He ran as fast as he could in the direction of her trailer. Austin weaved through the maze of trailers, trying desperately to find hers. Eventually, he saw her door and stopped in front. He was about to open the door when he heard ragged breathing outside the trailer. Walking around the side of the trailer, he saw a pitiful sight. She was sitting on the ground with her knees pulled up, and her arms around them. Her body shook violently as she tried to breathe.

“Breathe in. One, two, three, four. Hold. One, two, three, four. Out. Breathe out. One, two, three, four.” She felt a hand drawing circles Dow her spine, and a soothing voice helping her breathe. It took several tries, but the breathing, and the circles helped her out. She finally released her knees and sat back against the trailer.

“Thanks…” but she trailed off when she saw that it was Austin. Of course; who else would’ve known how to help her?

“Are you okay?” Austin asked, sitting down next to her. There was a little bit of distance between them, but either one could reach out to the other if they wanted. She opened her mouth and began to speak when Austin interrupted her.

“Don’t lie to me.” She immediately shut her mouth. Taking another moment to gather her thoughts, she spoke.

“Not really.” Her chuckle triggered Austin’s. It wasn’t a full laugh, but it was enough to diffuse the situation.

“Honestly, doing this film with you is messing with my head.” He looked over at her, but she stared straight ahead; afraid that if she looked over, she’d burst into tears again.

“I thought I was over you. But doing that scene, it just… It was so much like our own breakup and I didn’t know how to handle it. I told myself and Di that I could be professional with you here but I honestly don’t think I can. Because I want nothing more than to take you back, and get back all the time we’ve lost because I tried to push you to be more open about us back then.” She looked down at her hands and felt her eyes try to tear up, but they would never fall. There was a pause, and then a hand reached over and grabbed her own.

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I’m not over you either. And it definitely isn’t your fault. I was so worried that if we went public, that the media would tear us apart and I… I- couldn’t lose you. But I did end up losing you in the end after all. Having you here, near me for long periods of time, I miss us. I miss when there was an us. You don’t know how much I wish I could go back in time and redo that night.” Her hand squeezed his, and he looked up. They locked eyes and laughed.

This wasn’t a chuckle, or even an awkward laugh. This was the kind of full bodied, stomach hurting, side stitching, doubling over kind of laughter. Tears were coming out of both of their eyes, but this time it was happy. They stopped and caught their breathes, and used their unoccupied hand to wipe the tears away. She leaned against his shoulder and felt his head come down onto hers.

“We’re a couple of idiots, aren’t we?” She asked, finally having come down from her emotional rollercoaster.

“Maybe just a bit.” He agreed and bumped his head further against hers. They stayed there for just another moment before she started to move to stand up. Austin stood up first, and helped her up. Before she could change her mind about their new found closeness, he embraced her tightly. She only nuzzled further into his chest.

“Let’s go make a movie, yeah?” A nod came out of his chest.

“Maybe let’s talk more after this scene?” Another nod. She pulled back again to look at his face.

“I’d like that Aus.” His heart swelled as he heard that nickname once again pass from her lips. He grabbed her hand and walked them back into set. Both feeling lighter, and excited about the future to come once again.

#rebelliousstories #writing #austin elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin elvis imagine #austin butler #fandom writing

[shattered-sparks]

Venting be like --- North waited outside the door that led into Eclipse’s room. He had something he wanted to show North and needed to get it from his room. Thinking it would just be quick Eclipse didn’t expect the oncoming fight to break out.  Moon exiting his work station wiped the top of his faceplate of oil. Sun still wasn’t even remotely functioning correctly and it was pissing him off. Taking off his work gloves he eyed the familiar blue leaning itself against the wall.  “Pipsqueak” Moon called for North’s attention. The icey Lunar animatronic looking up from gazing at the floor.  “Hmm?”  “What are you doing back here?” Moon stopped in front of North. His frame easily towering over the magic user, an intimidating shadow being casted over as Moon blocked the light.  “Eclipse wanted to show me somethin, said to wait out here” North pointed his thumb to the door next to him as indication. Moon simply scoffed.  “I mean why are you constantly here? Don’t you have your own Universe?”  “Yes but-”  “Then go back there”  Moon all but growled as he cut North’s sentence off. The dark blue finger curling into a fist out of anger. North all but pushed himself further against the wall. “Why? What’s wrong with me being here? I don’t even bother you” North questioned.  “You’re mere presence annoys me. Do you know what it’s like to constantly have your own brother talk about someone not even from your own universe? OH North this, oh North that. I’m sick of you stealing him from me, us!”  Moon grabbed and lifted North up by the collar of his poncho, the light blue pendant creaking under the force as Moon held the smaller animatronic in the air, legs dangling from the floor. The Moon leaned his faceplate closer North’s as he bared his teeth, sharp canines threatening to bite.  What Moon wasn’t expecting was the sudden shift in the air. Snowflakes wisping by.  “W-what?” North questioned. His expression bore no feelings. Eye pin prinks in a sea of white as they softly glowed. The hands that grasped to keet their balance as they were lifted tightened their grip around Moon’s arm.  “I said stop trying to steal my brother” Moon repeated himself.  North didn’t see Nice!Eclipse’s Moon anymore. He was transported back to his daycare. Being back with his Moon.  North only saw Red.  In one swift motion North hardened his knuckles with ice and punched Moon straight in the face, causing the Lunar animatronic to drop him and stumble. Hands grasping to hold his face. Letting out a growl.  “You fucking-”  Moon was interrupted as he was punched in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. North quickly standing atop of his, ice claws drawn up to Moon’s neck, threatening to slice it in half.  What once was Moon’s shadow was now North’s. Winds blew stray snowflakes around the room as the icey Lunar robot towered above.  “When are you going to stop constantly assuming you know me when you actually don’t, Moon! Your life is so fucking miserable you have to ruin mine just to make yourself feel better. How about I instead make your-”  “North?!”  As if a rope was being cut North was brought back to what was currently happening. Nice!Eclipse’s Moon looking fearful as snow fell atop of him. Quickly melting away from the temperature. North blinked, confused at the sight.  Eclipse, dropping what was in his hands quickly ran over to pry North off of Moon. Ice claws dissipating in the air as he let himself be pulled into Eclipse’s chest.  Moon was stunned as he watched North get carried off, Afraid to move. He hasn’t seen anger like that in a while. Anger that engulfs you. If ice could burn North’s would be the one to do it.  “What happened?! What’s going on?!”  Eclipse quickly questioned but all North could hear was static as his thoughts raced.  Why did he see his Moon?

#Written Paw Prints #SAMS -Evil- AU #North #Nice!Eclipse #Nice!Eclipse Moon

[alfalfatauri]

okay I'm going to ask for run f1 pretty pretty please and if no one asks for kidfic I'll come back later and ask for that 🧡❤️

I actually have a lot to say about this one I’m very excited for her. However I must confess the title is a little bit of a misnomer......

It is about F1. It’s just... not about F1. It’s about BTS as F1 drivers.

Basically it’s a Pierre-Esteban type thing in which two people who were friends have now fallen out and are now places in the same team with each other.

I’m proud of it because... I’ve created a new team - Hyundai Racing, and their livery is purple. Because I can.

And because I’m using inserted pieces of commentary to explain the backstory of Hyundai, and the whole way F1 works to people who don’t know. It’s challenging and it’s so fun!!

Also because I’m furthering the I hate Crofty agenda.

Also for this:

#those following the pieresteban saga will notice that yes I did rip entire plot points from their lives #*lives #don’t talk about racing in the snow if you don’t want me to steal it #I know this isn’t what I were looking for so 🙈 my apologise se #feel free to ask about kidfic sjshsgs #instead

[foolhearts]

you were made to steal my heart

lewis hamilton/sebastian vettel, 1.3k

happy birthday @collarboen!!! i wrote this scene/snippet of a fic idea we've discussed :) this is only sort of a fic bc it's minimally edited and not beta'd (excuse any mistakes). i just kept thinking about this scene so i threw some words onto a page. hope you enjoy!!!

Lewis is heading back to his motorhome when he hears a familiar voice calling his name. He turns to see Sebastian jogging toward him. Seb's changed out of his fireproofs and is wearing his usual ensemble of an Aston Martin zip-up with sensible pants and sneakers. His hair is a bit disheveled and his beard is longer than Lewis has seen in a long time. He’s a sight for sore eyes. Lewis smiles and stops to let him catch up.

“Good first day?” Sebastian asks as he reaches Lewis, grinning and tilting his head toward the track.

Lewis hesitates, not sure how honest he should be. It’s only the first day of testing so it might be too early to tell, but he senses the W13 isn’t quite where it needs to be. He also hasn’t worked with the engineers as much as he would've liked coming into Barcelona.

“I’m excited to be back but I have a lot of work to do,” he admits. “It’s been a busy offseason and it’s an adjustment to get back into the car, even after all these years. And I’m not sure how we’ll fare with the new regulations.” He wouldn’t tell that to any other driver but this is Sebastian. Their friendship has deepened over the years and if there’s anyone who would understand, it’s Seb.

Sebastian nods sympathetically. “I know what you mean. I’m struggling with the car a bit and there’s many adjustments I need to make.” He flexes and extends his neck with a slight grimace. “I could also use a neck massage right about now.”

“At least you’ve raced recently. I saw those photos and videos at the Race of Champions.” Lewis can’t help laughing as he recalls the video of Seb running in the snow in shorts.

“Ah, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Sebastian teases, a light flush entering his cheeks.

“I always keep tabs on my competition,” Lewis replies with a grin, referencing a little running joke between them.

“I don’t know that I’ve been your competition for a few years now. You’re probably better off redirecting your resources to monitor somebody else.” Sebastian’s tone is light but Lewis knows how painful the past couple years have been for him.

“You’re still my favorite rival,” Lewis says firmly. He figures it’s time to change the subject. “Hey, I’m sorry for not replying to your messages for most of the offseason.”

Sebastian waves a hand. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re mostly informational messages anyway. No response required.”

Lewis chuckles fondly as he thinks about the texts Seb sends. They’re usually singular photos of something new or interesting he’s discovered or they involve one of his hobbies. This offseason the photos he had sent Lewis included his beehive, plants in his garden, the view from a hike he discovered, his new gluten free bread recipe, among others. But Seb had also texted a week after Abu Dhabi asking how Lewis was doing, and Lewis hadn’t replied to that message either.

“Besides,” Sebastian continues, “I don’t blame you for needing a break from everything and taking time for yourself after how the season ended.”

Lewis takes a breath. “There was another reason too,” he confesses. “Do you want to go back to my motorhome to catch up?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at the request. They both know their friendship has never involved casually hanging out in each other’s motorhomes.

“Yeah, sure, as long as I’m not intruding. I’m sure you’re busy and you probably also want to just relax,” Sebastian answers pragmatically.

Lewis could still take it back; he could agree that he’s tired and they’ll talk tomorrow. But he shakes his head. “I’d love to catch up with you and hear the stories behind the photos you sent.”

Sebastian gestures for Lewis to lead the way.

When Lewis opens the door to his motorhome, Angela is sitting on the sofa working on her laptop. She glances up and gives Lewis a knowing look when she sees Sebastian behind him.

“Hi Seb.” She smiles and nods in greeting.

“Hello Angela! It’s good to see you.” Sebastian steps into the room after Lewis. He surveys the living room and pauses the moment he notices the baby sleeping in the bassinet next to the sofa.

“Seb, this is Amelia,” Lewis introduces. “My daughter.” He answers the question that is undoubtedly on the tip of Sebastian’s tongue.

Lewis can see a flicker of confusion then surprise before Sebastian’s face melts in a grin and his eyes light up. “Oh Lewis, she’s beautiful. She looks like you.”

“Thank you,” Lewis answers, relieved at how Seb is reacting to the news. He feels the tension he didn't know he was carrying ease from his shoulders.

Sebastian’s already walked over next to the bassinet and crouched down so he’s nearly eye level with Amelia. “Nice to meet you,” he whispers, studying her as he watches her sleep.

Lewis chuckles at the look of concentration on Seb’s face. It’s reminiscent of when he’s inspecting a car.

Angela clears her throat. Lewis tears his eyes away from Seb and Amelia. Angela’s standing by the door, holding her laptop, a bemused expression on her face. “I’m gonna head to hospitality for dinner. It’ll be time for Amelia’s next meal soon too. She’s probably going to wake up any minute now.”

“Thanks, Ange.” Lewis can’t express how grateful he is for her. He knew it would be difficult when he decided to come back with Amelia for this season and he definitely would not have done it if not for the support from everyone in his life, including his family and Angela and Toto.

As if on cue, Amelia starts fussing, her eyes blinking open. “Oh!” Sebastian exclaims. “Is it ok if I hold her?” He gestures toward her. “I promise I know how to hold a baby. And I’ll try not to make her cry.”

Lewis nods. “Yeah, of course. She has been a little wary of new people at first, but you can try. Let me get a bottle so you can feed her, that might help.” He goes to the kitchen to prepare and warm up some formula. He doesn’t hear Amelia crying which is a good sign.

When he goes back into the living room, Sebastian is sitting down on the sofa, cradling Amelia in his arms as she looks at him with a delighted expression on her face. Her arms are outstretched as she tries to grab at his beard.

He laughs loudly. “What do you think, Amelia? Do I need to shave it off?”

“Actually, I like it and I think she does too,” Lewis interrupts as he sits down next to them and hands Sebastian the bottle.

Sebastian murmurs his thanks and shifts Amelia in his arms so he can lift the bottle to her mouth. She starts drinking hungrily, her wide eyes staring up at him.

Lewis can’t take his eyes off Sebastian feeding Amelia. He’s holding her like she’s precious and gazing at her like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen. Lewis can relate to that. He tries to ignore the tight feeling in his chest.

Sebastian glances between Lewis and Amelia, his brow slightly furrowed. “Lewis, I don’t want to pry but... are you raising her alone?”

Lewis knows what Seb really means to ask is, where is her mother?

Lewis leans over and gently smooths down Amelia’s hair. She giggles around the bottle when she notices him. He loves her so much and he can’t imagine his life without her, even though it’s only been a few months.

He looks back up at Seb with a faint smile. “Yeah. It’s just me. I mean, I have the help of my family and Angela and so many other people. But there’s no mom or anybody else because, well, she’s a wish baby.”

#thank you for reading!!! #yes i do have a whole headcanon about this bc my brain is unhinged #(i did steal the baby name from autumn bc i love it and she has the best ideas) #anyway who knows if i'll ever be able to wrangle it into actual fic #but my inbox is always open to discuss ideas and yell about seb lewis f1 etc #come chat with me! #also happy race weekend let us manifest good results for lewis and seb #quali feels like a fever dream #seb/lewis #sewis #my fic #fic stuff

[nctsworld]

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu​’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen​

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period. 

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was. 

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot. 

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.  

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.   

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand. 

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place. 

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.  

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries. 

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.  

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences. 

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss. 

#yangyang x reader #yangyang fluff #yangyang fanfic #yangyang imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #wayv fluff #wayv imagines #wayv fanfic #yn brainrot #beginningscollab

[xenia-cenia]

Hello. I saw that you have open requests, and decided to send a request. Can I ask for headcannons for Mori Ougai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol and their Russian fem!s/o, who longs for her homeland? Please 🙏

““A/N- I don’t write for Mori - sorry! other than that i hope you enjoy :) uhhh nikolais got super long and fyodors is p short whoops

i do not speak russian so if some of the russian phrases i used in this are completely off please lmk so i can fix it 

-thank you everybody making nikolai gifs youve made my life significantly easier

-all right headcanon time

-the first time he sees you sad about Russia he kinda 

-makes fun of you for it

-its not that he doesnt understand

-really he gets it he just refuses to miss a chance to make fun of someone

-however if he sees you start to cry 

-or if you sniffle a bit 

-or really anything that suggests you’re really upset

-he drops the act instantly

-hes HUGE on physical touch so expect a hug as he whispers comforts in your ear

- “ Я так тебя люблю, лапочка.”

- “ Дом там, где ты, любовь моя”

-though he knows his words won’t do much

-so he goes on a mission

-straight up pauses everything for the angels of decay

-pisses off everybody in the organization

-”nikolai, you need to-”

-”no i dont”

-”NIKOLAI”

-he gets those packets of fake snow you can make

-terrorizes and steals buys a huge plot of land and decorates it to his liking

-its a disaster

-he doesnt know how to use fake snow and kinda just improvises

-has a radio hidden behind a tree with music he heard a lot in Moscow

-maybe sorta kinda kidnapped some people from Russia to make the experience more ‘authentic’

-anyway

-you woke up one morning in the woods

-which is weird because you dont typically wake up in the woods

-you were on guard and nikolai jumped out from behind a bush, leading you further into the woods with literally no explanation

-he blindfolds you too

-so youre just out of it

-when he takes off the blindfold you looked around and felt your heart race

-people were talking in Russian, your favorite songs were playing somewhat quietly and the trees were covered in fake snow

-the two of you danced and spent the night laughing

-would gladly set up a big night up like this whenever you want

-really would do almost anything if it makes you smile

-(he may or may not be planning a trip back to russia for your birthday... you didnt hear it from me tho)

-he doesnt get it

-its a place. how do you miss a place

-but whatever if youre upset youre upset

-and this is a problem he can solve

-youre coming home from a long day of work and all of a sudden your vision turns black

-when you wake up you instantly recognize the scent of rotting fish

-people are drinking alcohol like their lives depend on it

-you swear youve just seen that bridge before

-it all clicks when you hear someone shouting at their kid in russian

-your head starts to spin as you realize where you are

-without much thought you take off in a sprint to your old apartment and bust through the door

-its just as messy as before

-you wobble in the doorway before collapsing into a mess of tears 

-”why are you crying, love?” his voice wraps around your head “this is what you wanted, no?”

-”oh... fyodor...” you wiped the tears away and assured him that it was tears of happiness

-he nodded and rested his head against your shoulder letting you take in the sights

-”what about work?” you mustered “the decay of-”

-“hush, love,” his voice was calming, “a break is what you need”

-”Ты - лучшее, что когда-либо случалось со мной.”

-”Ты крадешь у меня слова, моя страсть.”

#nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai #nikolai gogol #nikolai x you #nikolai gogol x you #nikolai x y/n #nikolai gogol x y/n #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x y/n #fyodor dostoevsky x you

[hardlyinteresting]

Incandescently zemo x reader edwardian!au

Part 2/2

read part 1 HERE

I watched Downton abbey a couple months ago, and then I started writing this. It took me much longer than I thought it would to finish this, so I hope you all enjoy it!

Warnings: Period typical sexism, large amounts of wealth, marriage arrangements, age gap (lmk if you want me to add anything else)

In the morning, an otherwise agreeable walk on the grounds is ruined as her mother slows to take a seat on a nearby bench,

“I cannot pretend that I am amused by your attempt to sabotage dinner last night”. “I did not attempt anything of the sort!”, she challenges. “Speaking about politics is not becoming, we’re already grasping at straws trying to find a match for you, and you’re not making it easy. You know that the estate cannot be passed down--” “To a woman yes. I know, and I am sorry that the world is as it is, but I cannot change that! And your constant need for wealth and validation by your peers will not persuade me to marry for anything other than love”.

“It is possible to have both! But sometimes you have to make sacrifices in the start, love will happen with time”. “Yes, you and my father seem very happy,” she seethes.

“Helmut is a good man, a kind man. I do hope that you give him a chance”. “He asked me my opinion on the vote,” she admits, “He wanted to hear my thoughts. And perhaps if I am left to my own devices, and not coddled, he’ll have a chance”.

Her mother smiles reaching to take her daughters hand, “I want you to be happy, my dear. I know you don’t believe that. But I am your ally”. “I know Mama. Thank you,” she squeezes her mother’s hand in response finally sitting beside her.

“Now, go. I know you’re supposed to be meeting with him in the library”.

----

Pressed against her bedroom door, her mind races with thoughts of being caught, the impoliteness of the whole situation, but the warmth of his hand on her hip, the near-impossible proximity of his body to hers somehow press closer still, leaves her heart racing and ears ringing. She wonders if he can feel how warm her cheeks have become as he leans in closer, his lips all but touching her own. When he does kiss her, her mind goes blank, her hands instantly coming to grasp at his lapels not wanting to let go. She knows that propriety damned, if this kiss was to steal the last of the air from her lungs she would die happy, and that’s more than she could ask for.

She's not sure how they ended up like this, one moment they were talking about when the house was built, the next about all the secrets the walls must keep. Oh, if walls could talk, her reputation would be in tatters, but it’s hard to care when his fingertips grip the silky fabric of her dress.

It’s no more than that though, just a kiss. A kiss that raises goosebumps on her skin just to think about, her mind wandering trying to recall the feel of his lips on hers. She avoids meeting his eyes at dinner less she gives herself away.

It's months later that she sees him again, the new year rung in, but the snow lingers on the grounds

“Baron Zemo is coming to stay again. He's passing through town on business. Your mother has offered to let him stay the night”. Where her father might’ve once expected her to roll her eyes, she only smiles politely and nods. Perhaps there’s something that he’s missed.

“Your letters have kept me a great deal of company. I don't believe I've laughed or smiled quite so genuinely or as often at anyone’s jokes since before the war”

“You are far too kind. I am sure my tales of dress fittings and shooting trips are far from exciting”

“Maybe so, but you are exciting. The content of the letters matters less than the way you've written them. Your personality shines through, and it is a privilege to receive them”

The next few days are spent in bliss, whispered words, secret touches, and stolen glances. On his third day, they take a walk through the grounds, in woollen coats, the fur trim of her collar tickling both their faces as they share a kiss beneath the icy branches of a willow tree. He warms her hands in his when they pull away,

“I suspect you've known since I arrived that your parents have intentions of making a match of us. I am afraid I do not have much to offer; money yes, property, a title. But the truth is where it matters most I am lacking, my heart has been broken by loss, and I am much older than I once was. I am not a young man anymore,” he pauses, “you have every right to refuse me for these reasons and more, but the truth is you fascinate me, your mind and your kind heart. I know I may not be what you wanted from a husband, but you could do much worse even if we are to just be friends”

“It would solve a great many problems for the two of us”.

“Yes-- it would and if that is all you want from our arrangement then I will never ask more of you. But if I may be so forward, I hope to marry you because I wish to love you with time”.

“I’m not sure I will need much time,” she admits not daring to look at him.

“I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am to hear you say that.”

Her eyes meet his again, Transfixed, she dares to move closer, allowing the palm of her hand to meet the label of his tweed jacket, a sigh passing through her lips. She had dared to dream but never expected to love the man she agreed to marry.

“Are you quite alright my dear?” He brings the backs of his hand up to her cheek feeling gently, as a mother would, for a fever.

“Yes. Never better truly. I always thought it silly when people cried at joyous things, but now I understand”

“Then you are happy?”

“Incandescently”.

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl #baron helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #edawardian au

[anime-allover]

Can I request a Jealous! Langa, Reki, and Miya x reader headcanon? (seperately)

A/n: Thank you for requesting!!

Warnings: nothing but fluff

Jealousy| Langa, Reki, and Miya

Langa

You was talking to someone in and after class everytime Langa look over you

He didn't get any ideas at first about it

Thinking it's just a close friendship

But weeks past and you guys barely hung out and talk to eachother

When he goes to S he now see the person you were talking to there

He suddenly have the urge to have beef with them

In his heart he feels like that he should just race against them and leave them in the dust

Reki have been questioning Langa about him and why he want to have beef with them

"I don't know but I just feel like I have to"

When the both of them was about to start your friend decided to make a deal

"If I win the beef you have to stop talking to y/n" Snow said not even thinking

The person will look at him shock for a second but nodded nervously

When the 5 beeps went off

Langa had vanished...

He's not at the starting line anymore...

He's already at the 3rd turned...

I feel bad for the person he's challenging

The next day of school

Your friend kept avoiding you

When you try to talk to them they'll just walk away

Then when you started to feel sad Langa will pop out of nowhere

He'll cheer you up again and spend a lot of time with you

Miya

When Miya gets jealous he'll give the person a death glare

He'll be surprised with himself if he let the person off with a warning

But if they try to talk to you in secret

Or try to hang out with you

Miya will know

He got a skateboard

He rides it around almost everywhere

Once Miya found out

he'll get furious

But you'll try to calm him down

And you told him not do hurt them or be mean

He agreed with you and started to walk away with you

But he turned his head to them and gave them the most creepiest smile ever

When you guys was away from your friend he made an excuse to leave for a second

You said ok and got on your phone

He went back where the person was.

"So... You're just gonna go to my s/o when I told you not to... I even left you off with a warning. You stupid Slime"

They was shaking in fear

When he came back to you

He smiled and grabbed your hand

"I'm hungry, let's get something to eat"

Reki

Reki will mostly drag you everywhere if they keep talking to you

He don't want to feel jealous

But this person is just doing to much

And stealing your time away from him

If he sees them down the street

"Y/n look!" Then he'll grab your hand and drag you to where he was pointing

He sees them waving at you

"Y/n come look at this new trick I made!" He'll grab your hand and drag you to the skate park

He sees him eating at the same place as you

"I know the perfect place for you to go eat!" He'll drag you to his house

You guys are outside of the school and Reki grabbed your hand.

"Hey, Y/n le-"

Another hand was holding onto yours

"Y/n want to hang out today?" They asked.

"They can't, They was about to go with me" Reki glare at the person.

"I was asking Y/n" They smiled at him.

"Reki I should go hang out with them, it's been a while. Let's hang out tomorrow ok?" You got out both of their grips and walk with your friend.

Reki was just in the back looking shock as ever then he turned around to a light pole

He kicked it really hard

"Oww" he held onto his foot, then a thought came up

He let go of his foot and ran to you and your friend's direction.

When he caught up

He grabbed your hand

Turned you around

Then he kissed you

Right in front of your friend

"Alright have fun with your friend y/n! Love you!" He smiled and he ran to the skate park to skate

You only looked at him confused

You then turned to your friend who looked shocked.

"You guys was a thing?" They asked

"Yeah, I thought you knew that?"

They'll look down in defeat

Thank you for requesting!! Asks are open!

#x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #miya chinen x reader #reki kyan x reader #sk8 x reader #sk8 langa #sk8 miya #sk8 reki #langa x reader

[the-lady-of-stars]

Keep your Captains Close

Captain Rex x Reader

Requested by the lovely @pinkiemme  (and a lovely anon!) 💕💕 hope you enjoy, honey bees!!! I thought your prompts would go well with each other so I've combined them, hope thats okay!

Prompts: “Have you ever kissed someone before?”     *Touch-starved*    “I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were okay”

The cot in your tent was by no means warm as you shrouded yourself in the standard military blanket. In fact it might as well not have been there at all, as the bitter air of Hoth sunk into your bones. 

The campaign had been difficult so far, and it didn’t seem to be easing up any time soon so you figured that any rest you could salvage would be a blessing, but try as you might you just couldn’t get it to happen. 

The sound of snow crunching beneath boots just outside the flap of your tent caught your attention, and the familiar force signature notified you that it was your Captain who seemed to be lingering there. He hesitated, you noticed, the shadow of his figure swaying lightly as though he were deciding whether to leave or enter. Naturally you made the decision for him. 

“Come in,” you called, just loud enough to alert Rex without waking any of your men who you could hear snoring in the surrounding area. 

Rex paused for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to notice him, then carefully peeled apart the velcro of the tent door and slid inside. You sat up to greet him, turning on the lamp that was perched on a crate next to your cot.

“Hey Captain, you okay?” you smiled up at Rex. 

You observed as his eyes widened nervously, fingers fidgeting. He opened his mouth to speak but the words were caught in his throat. He cleared it, gathering  his confidence before speaking his mind. 

“I- uh, I just-” Rex sighed in annoyance, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Sorry to have disturbed you, General.” 

Before he could turn to leave you were up out of bed, grasping at his forearm to keep him with you. 

“Hey, no, it’s alright. C’mon you can tell me. What’s bothering you, Rex?”

The man refused to meet your eyes as he spoke, gazing down at his feet like he’d never seen them before.

“I- had a nightmare. That’s all, sir.”

“A nightmare? Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it? And there’s no need for formality here Rex, you know my name.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you any further, sir- uh, Y/N.”

“You’re never a bother to me, Rex. Come, sit.” you spoke softly to the Captain, sliding your hand down into his and tugging him to sit on your cot. You watched him expectantly, leaving your hand in his until he was ready to talk. He broke the silence.

“It was about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Specifically the mission to Umbara, the things General Krell did to you. He told us you had left because you were needed back at the temple, and of course we believed him. What need would a Jedi have to lie to us? That was before we knew what he was like. I’d never have guessed that he’d just wanted you out of the way so that he could carry out his plan undetected. The way we found you-” he grimaced, eyes squinting shut and shaking his head as though to clear it. “I couldn’t believe that a Jedi could just leave you tied up to die like that. Stars, the bruises all over you, and the blood. I just can't seem to forget it.”

Rex bowed his head, sighing deeply. You clasped his hands tighter, rubbing your thumbs over them. Sweet Rex. Loyal Rex. Always the perfect soldier, caring about each and every member of his battalion.

“Rex, look at me,” you cooed. Slowly he looked up to meet your eyes, his own looking soft and broken. “Without you I’d never have made it out of Umbara alive. None of us could have known what Krell was up to, even the highest ranking masters on the council fell for his lies. I’ll admit, I lost hope when he tried to get rid of me, I thought I’d never see any of you boys again, but when you found me? I knew then that everything would be alright. That I’d always be safe and looked after, that no one could outsmart the legendary five-oh-first.”

Rex huffed a laugh at that, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“There you go. You look better with a smile on your face, Captain.”

Rex felt his face grow hot, eyelids fluttering nervously. There he was, sat holding hands with his General, the prettiest General in the GAR, no less. He couldn’t think of a response, too pre-ocuppied by how soft the touch of your hands was, how they fitted in his like they were meant to be that way. Before he could thank you, Rex noticed a puff of breath escaping your mouth and swirling into the freezing air. Your hands in his were trembling from the cold, and your shoulders were tensed inward to preserve what little heat was there. 

“Ah, what am I doing. I’ve gotten you out of your cot and now you’re freezing. Please don’t let me keep you cold any longer.” 

Rex was about to leave when your soft sound of protest met his ears, fingers linking into his. 

“Wait- what if...” you trailed off, feeling nerves swirl in your stomach.

“If?” he prompted.

“What if you stayed? We’d both benefit from it, I think. You could keep me warm and I could keep you safe from nightmares?”

This time it was you who couldn't bring yourself to meet Rex’s eyes. 

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, shyness radiating from him through the force. “Yeah okay.”

You smiled nervously at him before shuffling back, scooting under the covers and holding the blanket up in invitation. Rex slipped off his armour, leaving him in just his blacks then slid in next to you. 

At first he was stiff as you threw the blanket over him. He was facing you on his side, body rigid, the posture of a soldier even when lying down. That was until he noticed you tremble again, and he knew more than anyone the inefficiency of the GAR issued blankets. He sucked in a breath in preparation for what he was about to do. 

“C’mere,” he spoke soothingly, shuffling so that you were pressed up against each other, then throwing an arm over your waist. “That better?”

Rex found the tension leaving his body as he laughed at the blissful sigh you offered him in response. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Must be the fact that you're in such good company,” he joked, feeling your upper body shake in a laugh. 

Rex had only ever been in contact with his brothers; leaning on them in the gunship after long campaigns, holding them as they wept over the loss of a brother, those long nights where he’d join them as they slept in a pile on the floor to ward off each others nightmares. But holding you? It was different. 

Tender was the first word that came to Rex’s mind. He found himself focusing on the palm that was pressed against his stomach, the heat that sunk from your skin into his. The way your head was nuzzled into his chest made Rex’s heart race. You were resting so sweetly against him, trusting him to protect you, to keep you warm and safe. And in return you were taking care of him, shielding him from the terrors that haunted him when he closed his eyes. Yes, he thought, good company indeed. 

When he looked down again Rex was met with your eyes gazing up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly. His lips parted, he felt like you were stealing the very air from his lungs. 

“Rex?” you spoke so softly that he could barely hear it, his name wispy and light coming from your mouth. He hummed in place of a yes, his voice just as quiet as yours. “Have- have you ever kissed someone before?”

Rex truly felt that he might die at any moment, heart pounding and aching at your saccharine words, spoken only for him.

“N-no. I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Oh, maker. Rex didn’t know what in the hells he’d done to deserve this but he’d do it all over again to hear you ask him that every day. He couldn’t bring himself to reply, only shaking his head lightly in affirmation, eyes drifting down to your lips.

His eyes fluttered closed as he felt you move closer, a gasp escaping him as your noses touched and he felt your breath fan over his mouth. Then euphoria.

The Captain melted at the feeling of your soft lips just barely brushing over his. He nuzzled against you, breathing heavily as your mouths swiped together. Eager to drown in you, Rex made the final push, gathering his courage and indulging himself in the taste of your mouth. He felt himself growing weak, toes curling and stomach raging with butterflies. For the first time in his life, Rex felt truly, deeply loved, as though this was the moment that everything in his life had been building up to. Time seemed to freeze as he basked in your sweet lips against his own, how you touched him as though he would shatter like glass if you were too rough. For the first time in his life Rex felt bliss. 

Pulling away slowly you both panted for breath, remaining flush against each other, forgetting about every aspect of the world outside of the tent. Hells, General Grievous himself could storm into the camp right that second and Rex wouldn’t even look twice. 

And as he held you just like that in his chest all night, Rex found himself in the most peaceful sleep he’d ever had.

#captain rex x reader #clone wars x reader #star wars x reader #captain rex imagine

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (July 25/2021) - The Wilburger Ranvan

Wilbur comes up with his new calling: selling burgers in a burger van! At Phil’s suggestion, Wilbur teams up with Ranboo to do so, setting up their new business on the outskirts of Las Nevadas.

A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

Wilbur Soot

Captain Puffy

BadBoyHalo

---

- Wilbur and Phil hang out in the Arctic. Wilbur has a proposition for Phil

- He says he met up with Quackity and it was a nice time. The one conclusion he came to is that Quackity is very resourceful

Wilbur: “As much as I may disagree with your views on anarchy, I must say, it’s pretty harmless. I -- I can’t hate you for it. I can’t hate you for enjoying literally living in a peaceful little village in the snow, I mean the server’s never been this peaceful since -- since all the countries and nations and cities and everything is gone. So Phil, I came to you with one question, one question...do you think Quackity should be allowed to be left unchecked?”

- Phil says no. The issue is, there’s no government, no police force. What Techno’s done is left a power vacuum and now Quackity’s come in with an unethical establishment, gambling...

- Wilbur wants to make a burger van

- They get interrupted by an Enderman ascending from the basement

- He knows there’s a bit of déjà vu, but the difference is that the burger van isn’t going to sell drugs this time. He wants every steak to have a name

- He’s done with being a source of authority, a president. His calling is just burgers, no ulterior motives

- Phil knows someone who would help out: Ranboo. The richest, most knowledgable man on the server, and he’s run out of things to do on the server

- Wilbur doesn’t want to play with Ranboo, but Phil threatens to kick him out if he doesn’t so he does, annoyed at being treated like a child

- Wilbur gives Ranboo his proposition

Wilbur: “I like to think, you know, let bygones be bygones, let’s bury the hatchet, let’s be -- Ranboo I’m gonna go out on a limb here...do you wanna be friends?”

- His next progression, after being a dead-terrorist-president...is to be a chef. Ranboo is onboard 

- They start walking over. Wilbur asks if Ranboo’s heard of Las Nevadas, and Ranboo mentions their abandoned cookie post that was causing trouble. He wants to create competition for Quackity’s business. Eventually, maybe Quackity will have to make a deal with them, maybe even be their friend

- Ranboo wants to keep it respectful. Wilbur assures him that they already has the land necessary

- Wilbur wants to pick Ranboo’s brain and asks his thoughts on Quackity. Ranboo says he just hasn’t seen him in so long. Their last interaction before everything else happened was just that they were in the same cabinet of New L’manburg

- Wilbur didn’t know that Ranboo was part of L’manburg’s government

- Wilbur asks if he dislikes anyone. Ranboo says not too much, just people that he doesn’t agree with. Everyone is just a product of what they’ve gone through, so if you understand that, you understand the person

- If you align yourself with everyone, isn’t that more complicated? Ranboo says that’s why he’s just been living with Phil and Techno away from everything, trying not to involve himself in much, but he has a terrible radar on what’s involving himself and what isn’t

Wilbur: “What about Dream?”

Ranboo: “Well that’s -- well, with Dream it’s kind of like...all I’ve heard of Dream, all I’ve seen with Dream is just been like the really bad things that he’s done and everything, so I would say that I -- yeah, I don’t really like Dream, but I mean, he’s also not really someone that it matters whether or not I like him ‘cause he’s just away in that prison for a really long time, so I mean...”

Wilbur: “No trial?”

- They reach their competition and go into the fast food restaurant

- He peeks into the casino, but holes it back up. This building doesn’t benefit the consumer

- Wilbur places down some signs insulting Quackity’s burger place, guaranteeing those signs will never leave since they don’t care about the customer

- Wilbur shows Ranboo his area, which he's thinking of naming “Paradise.” Ranboo says it could be a neat play on words...pair-of-dice

- Wilbur and Ranboo decide to make the place red and white, retro-themed. Ranboo gives Wilbur Ranord and Wilbur goes off to gather some red

- Wilbur likes Tubbo since he’s strong-headed and doesn’t let people push him around

- Ranboo says when you can’t change someone’s mind, it’s no use to needlessly argue. Wilbur points out that Ranboo seems to be a bit more dynamic than a purely neutral, peaceful force. He’s somehow appeared in almost every conflict the server’s had since Wilbur died

- Ranboo says it’s because he’s bad at discerning things, but he’s been doing alright with his situation recently. He wants to help people, and sometimes he lets that desire to help people get in the way of what he says about himself

Wilbur: “Ranboo...why did you help to help me?”

- Ranboo needed something to do, and he also thought that Wilbur’s an alright person, so he wants to get off on a better foot because he doesn’t like having people not like him

- Wilbur asks why he doesn’t think Wilbur’s a bad person. Ranboo says he did bad things, but also went through things that made him that way and now he’s changed as a person since he died. He’s optimistic in that

Wilbur: (sniffs) “Good, uh...that’s nice. Thank you. Uh...I think I needed to hear that.”

Wilbur: “Can I be real with you man? ...I think I scare people.”

Ranboo: “I mean...yeah, I do the same thing.”

Wilbur: “No, not in -- no no, I mean I...I don’t think I...I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to -- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.”

- He demolished Jack Manifold’s house twice, he completely ignored him in the war, and what it took for Jack to forgive Wilbur was just a sorry. 

Wilbur: “And I know -- I’ve spoken to Tommy about Jack Manifold! And Jack Manifold is not the sort of person to forgive someone like that with a sorry! Imagine if Dream said sorry to Jack Manifold! What’s Dream done to Jack Manifold, huh? Barely anything! I imagine if Dream said sorry to Jack Manifold, Jack Manifold would ignore him. Do you know why? Because DREAM’s in prison, and I’m not!

“Dream is -- he’s had his comeuppance and I’ve not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for these people! They’re just waiting! Waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on them -- Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo, I’m different. I’m not Dream...god, I wish I was! Sometimes I wish, I wish I’d gotten that comeuppance but Ranboo, I’m not Dream. And I’m not gonna be Dream, and that’s...”

“I’m living in eternal Limbo...again. I’ve been through Limbo. I’m out of Limbo. And socially, I’m still in this Limbo, and man, Ranboo, hearing you say those words that you said to me? Do you remember what you said?”

Ranboo: “Y-yeah, I do?”

Wilbur: “You said...(sniffs) I think people can change, that’s number one. And number two, you said you’re scared that people don’t like you.”

- He tells Ranboo that they’re kindred. They have the same neuroticism, their strongest point. But anxiety is not their downfall. Wilbur’s parents are alive because they were anxious and didn’t let anything take them down

- Ranboo says they’re both thinkers. They may think in different ways, but they think at the same level

Wilbur: “I think you might be a bit braver than me in showing your true colors. I feel like with you, Ranboo, I never have to be guessing your next move. I never have to be guessing your hand, you know? I feel like life dealt us the same cards, and the difference is you build your trust by showing people your cards whilst I keep them close to my chest, and I feel like that might be the big difference.”

- He asks Ranboo what he feels about thievery. He’s going to steal Las Nevadas’ cows to make into burgers

- Ranboo makes some concrete and starts building the van. Wilbur rides off on a horse looking for some sheep

- Wilbur asks Ranboo about Tubbo and Ranboo talks a bit about Snowchester. Wilbur thought Techno was successful at getting rid of all the nations, but Ranboo says it’s not a nation. Wilbur doesn’t know about Kinoko Kingdom either

- Wilbur gets to the spider farm, which has Kanye West in it

- He heads back and they discuss names like Paradise or Wilburger

- Wilbur asks Ranboo’s opinion on Tommy and Ranboo thinks he’s great. Tommy’s gone through a lot, but it’s made him a good person. 

Wilbur notes that he seems to think that everyone’s gone through something. Ranboo says yes, the only bad people are those who are evil without a reason why, but there’s not many people like that

- Wilbur names the first burger “Wilburger Vol. 1″ and puts a watermark on it

- Wilbur wants to ask Ranboo one last make-or-break question

- Chat suggests the “Wilburger Ranvan” and they like it

- They go to Quackity’s restaurant and Wilbur wants Ranboo to smash the windows. Ranboo does

- Wilbur goes inside and places TNT. He hands Ranboo the lighter and tells him to detonate it

- Ranboo does so. Wilbur tells Ranboo to go back to the van. He’s passed the test

Wilbur: “Ranboo, I’m proud of you man. You’ve -- you’ve taken a side.”

- Wilbur goes back and places a sign at the crater:

---

***** Wilbur + Ranboo  Did this together

*****

---

“I love that guy.” (laughs) “I love that guy.”

END OF WEEK RECAP:

7/19 - Nothing much happens.

7/20 - Sapnap and George speak with Mexican Dream

7/21 - Foolish creates Philzavilla and breaks into the prison

7/22 - Nothing much happens.

7/23 - Nothing much happens.

7/24 - MCC, no updates

7/25 - Wilbur and Ranboo make a burger van

---

Upcoming Events:

- Captain Puffy’s Lore Stream

- Wilbur’s 11 planned streams

- Egg Finale Stream

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s prequel stream

- Ponk’s current-day lore with Sam

- Puffy’s Lore Cast

- Sapnap’s lore

- Dream’s lore video

- Quackity’s casino opening

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long post #long posts

[totallyimagines]

Snowball fights

Heyo. You probably already know it’s me. Anyways enjoy the snowball fight you two shared;). Like seriously, it’s the first day of December and I’m pumped with some Snowball fights from your fav Castlevania Characters; I tried to put all the Characters in there but couldn’t find gifs for some so we just going to leave that there.

Listening to: Wham- Last Christmas(slowed + Reverb)

Includes: Alucard, Dracula, Issac, Trevor, Sphya, Hector, Carmilla, Lenore, Godbrand, Lisa,

Alucard

Doesn’t know how to do such things as; snowball fight? What is that? No seriously..what is that? You’ll have to teach this man.. he doesn’t even know how to make a snow ball like it literally fall right apart as soon as he does it; but once he gets it..it’s over for you. I’m talking about he’ll hunt you down - you can’t run you cant hide. He’s coming to you at full speed not caring wether your out of breath or not. This is kind of a tactic game for him but either way he’s steal having fun and enjoying your company during winter. Yes, his snowballs hurt. He didn’t mean to put a lot of force in it..but it happened so..let’s just say you got a cold because of him.

Dracula

Absolutely not, he will not risk his reputation for something as cheap as this..ok well maybe. He’ll play with you for a little while and trust me it’s actually hard to hit this man with a snowball I’m talking; you can be throwing a snowball directly at him and it misses him and he just stands there..No..not moving at all. Just stands there and then; Unleashes his snowball attack. Yeah, Dracula we need to call a timeout on that one. That’s not fair. Like we know your using some type of power against us but no he just calls it: A non-direct hit. Yes, this game will kind of be boring with him but in the end he’ll let you hit him at least once raising an eyebrow as you do so.

Issac

Just stands there. Just stands there; casually, unbothered, just stands. It’s like your playing with yourself(no nsfw intended) or like your playing with your own reflection. He just watches you play, he knows what it is but he never did this as a kid, like never. He’ll take a lot of convincing because he doesn’t want to look childish. Neither does he want to hurt you in this game. So, his best solution is to stay out of it. He’ll build a snowman with you(which also takes convincing; he’s a tuff guy what did you expect?) Even so, Doubt he knows what he’s getting into by making a snowman. He won’t even try to attack you if you start a snowball fight. Again, it feels like your playing with yourself so not the best.

Trevor

He’ll play with you because he’s getting something out of..probably sex. So, if you make a deal with him, he’ll play with you. Not like that guys. He’s a hard snowball thrower; he wants to make you stop playing so he can get his end of the deal sooner. But, two can play that game. If your a hard thrower too, just now that this is going to be like a real battle except he’ll probably get what he wants at the end. So either way your bait in “his” plan. He won’t hurt you though it’s just the snowball that hurts and where he aims. No face shots; that’ll hurt- sting and burn, all at the same time.

Sphya

Actually has fun and enjoys this; unlike Trevor, she plays a fair game. Making to better chances for her or you to win. Making the game fun of course. No magic involved though, okay.. maybe to make a snowball or a snowman but other than that, nothing else. She likes the kiddy nature you give off while doing snow ball fights. You’re having fun and you don’t look worried at all; you genuinely look happy. She’s probably gotten snow in her eyes at least once from you throwing a snowball at her. She totally didn’t try to do the same to you so you know what it feels like-

Hector

Yes, 10/10. He plays snowball fights like a real kid and there’s not even anything wrong/that hurts when he throws a snowball. He doesn’t throw to hard or soft either. It’s like the perfect throw. He’s more excited than you are about it. Probably racing you outside to see who can throw most snowballs. Probably knocked down your snowman on purpose because he wanted to. You declared war. He’s probably tripped over snow at least twice and fell face forward. It’s all fun and games until he breaks his nose.

Carmilla

No. She doesn’t do this type of stuff. Takes convincing from her sisters to go spend some time with you. She throws snowballs like she’s angry, like ouch, that hurt. You’ll probably have to tell her that she’s throwing to hard, because you’ll probably tap out after the 3rd snowball she threw at you. That accidentally wasn’t “supposed” to be a face shot. She did it 3 times. She’s purposely aiming at your face. Although, if you know how to dodge this woman’s face shots. You’re in for a real game; I’m talking about a whole snowball fight- BRAWL. Predator and prey fight, you don’t know if your the predator and/or prey. But either way, you’re throwing some snowballs at full speed.

Lenore

Now this is actually a predator and prey game, like she’s really the predator and your the mere prey. Which can very scary; she makes this a scary game so you won’t ever play again. White snow and some blood, you’ll stop playing then. She makes this game unexplainable scary and makes you very uncomfortable like. What kind of snowball fight is this? She sneaks up on you too, making it a thousand times more scary of how quiet it is. The silence is so loud, and the game; that she claimed she knows how to play. Is now straight out a horror movie- you don’t think she knows how to play..

Godbrand

A lot of wrestling included; He’s a fucking Viking what did you expect? Doesn’t want to play this game honestly; he has his own request of a game which involves a lot of blood shed and wailing. He calls you fragile when you say ouch when he hits you a little too hard. You must be tough though because all of snowballs hurt. It feels like they are made out of stone and you just got hit with the toughest part. He probably makes points and if gets to a certain amount of points he probably gets to do something that he wants to you and if you win same for you. Sex; it makes it all the more amusing in the woods and that’s the prize he wants so run for your life.

Lisa

Has fun too; she thinks this as a way to get her mind off of things and for you too. She’ll probably be the first one to start it by throwing a snowball at your back. And laughing as she runs away from you. She’s not a harsh thrower either, making the game all the more fun. She’s sneaky too but she’s always laughing so it’s really hard for her to hide sometimes. She’s probably fallen on the snow too but on her back while you were chasing her. Snowman; of course! She wants hers to have a name too.

#castlevania x reader #castlevania #trevor #Trevor x reader #alucard tepes x reader #dracula x reader #issac x reader #Issac #castlevania issac #castlevania Trevor #trevor belmont x reader #trevor x reader #Trevor #castlevania sypha #Sypha #Sypha x reader #sypha belnades #Sypha belnades x reader #castlevania hector #hector x reader #Hector #castlevania carmilla #carmilla x reader #Carmilla #lenore x reader #castlevania lenore #lenore #godbrand #castlevania godbrand #godbrand x reader

[criminalshminds]

A Broken Whisper

A very, very, very late prompt from @eprcntiss, but good things happens to those who wait, right???

Prompt: “What are you doing here?  It’s late.” Pairing: Hotchniss (Emily Prentiss x Aaron Hotchner) Rating: General Audiences Words: 1968 TW: Canon faked death, slight intrusive thoughts

Summary: He didn’t know why he felt the need to check up on her, but he’s glad he did.  Though he never thought she’d be here. (Post Doyle)

*****************************************************************

He couldn’t say why he had the urge to check on Emily, he just did.  Something has been up with her since she came back after Doyle. Hotch has tried to be a sounding board for her, but her walls are always up that she manages to deflect any of his concern and places it back on him. But he saw her face at the take down that night.  He saw the lone tear that fell down her cheek, one that she quickly wiped away before anyone could see it.  Maybe that one tear led him to her apartment.  He parks in a spot that looks directly up into her apartment.  A spot that he has been in plenty of times before, back when things were simpler.  Back when they would steal little kisses.  Where she would wave at him from the window in her living room as he left to go back home to shower and change before work.  Where he told her that he loves her.  Back before she started to pull away.  Back when things made sense.

Since her return, they haven’t spoken of the past.  Actually, they haven’t really talked at all.  The only words they utter to each other are work related.  Well, that’s not completely true.  She did utter a goodbye today.  Maybe that’s why he felt the need to see her.  Looking up at the window that used to hold her smiling silhouette now just holds a darkness that sends a shiver down his spine.  Like he’s not supposed to be here.  Like he is intruding in a life that he doesn’t belong in anymore.  Taking a chancery glance around the parking lot, the first thing he notices is that her car isn’t in its designated parking spot.  Second thing he notices, is that she hasn’t been home since leaving work five hours ago, if the snow piled up on the concrete has anything to say about it. Knowing that she could be literally anywhere, he huffs out a sigh before digging around his pockets for his cell phone.

“Bossman, I know I am the goddess of all wisdom, but even goddesses need their beauty sleep.”  A grumble comes through the phone, definitely not the cheerful voice of Penelope Garcia that Hotch has come to know.

“Garcia, can you do me a favor?” He speaks quickly into the phone, no room or time for nonsense.

“Does it involve me coming back into the BAU?” Hotch hears some rustling noises, and only now does he realize that he is calling at almost midnight.

“No.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

“Don’t raise any alarms unless I say so.”  Hotch runs his hand over his mouth before asking his request.  “Can you get me a location on Prentiss?”

She immediately shoots out of bed and races to her laptop.  She skids to a stop, barely landing on her couch before frantically typing and shooting out questions.  “What? Why would I – why is she?  She’s not – “ Not again, not when we just got her back.

“Garcia!”  He interrupts her panic raise of questions hoping to keep her head on straight.

“Right, sorry.  Um, give me a minute.  You sure it’s nothing?”  She waits for a second, getting no response she continues to type on her laptop before it pings her location.  “I got it! I sent it to you.  Please bring our girl back home.”

“I will Garcia, and remember – “

“I know, I know, not a peep.”  As soon as the last word left her mouth, Hotch moved the phone from his ear and immediately went to his messages.  Letting out a sigh, he puts the car in reverse and makes his way down the empty streets.

His shoulders don’t sag in relief until he sees her car parked in the desolate lot.  Pulling into the space next to her, he glances at silver sedan hoping he’ll be lucky to see her behind the wheel.  Mentally groaning when the car is as barren as the parking lot he is in, he turns off his car and shuffles out into the chilly night.  It didn’t take a genius to know that she has been here for a while, if the buildup of snow on her car was any indication. The steady stream of snow flurries coming down has covered any footprints that could potentially lead him to her.  Although, none of that was necessary.  For the seasoned profiler he is, he knew exactly where she went once the coordinates led him here.

                                      Quantico National Cemetery

He stares at the sign, willing his feet to move.  A staring contest that even the famous Aaron Hotchner glare can’t win.  It’s not until a particularly strong gust of wind whips around him for his feet to catch up with his brain.  A shiver races through his body.  Either from the cold or from that sinister feeling of being alone in a graveyard at night. He silently moves through the sea of headstones, a walk that is second nature to him.  One that he frequented quite often for months.  He makes his way up to the tree that helped shelter the gravestone from the elements and finally sees the back of her head.   He knows that she hears him coming, the crunching of the snow beneath his feet hard to miss, even past the sound of the wind.  Stopping a few feet behind her, he waits a minute before speaking.

“What are you doing here?  It’s late.”  He’s expecting her to turn towards him, but she sits as still as a statue staring at the engraved stone.  She doesn’t respond right away, making him move closer to her.  He opens his mouth to ask again when he hears her soft voice reply.

“I come here to think.”

Curiosity got the better of him.  “About?”

“Life.”  Her soft declaration carries through the wind and wraps around him.  She reaches forward in a practiced motion and brushes the fresh snow away to keep the text visible.

                                                  Emily Prentiss

                               October 12th 1970 – March 7th 2011

                                        Fidelity Bravery Integrity

“It’s so precious.  You never realize how special it is until it gets taken away.”  He continues to stand behind her, keeping his mouth shut. This is the most open she’s been since her return and he’s not about to ruin it.  “I didn’t think it’d be this strange.  Basically coming back from the dead.  You know I came here the first time purely out of curiosity.  Taking my picture off a wall is one thing, but removing a whole grave?”  She lets out a humorless chuckle.

“With a click of her finger, Garcia could get it removed.”  He speaks before he could stop himself.  He holds his breath hoping that he didn’t just cause her walls to build back up.

“No.”  Her head tilts back towards the sky.  “I need the perspective.”

Furrowing his brow, he carefully walks next to her before slowly lowering to the ground.  He starts to reach for her before quickly retreating, remembering that she’s no longer his to touch. He starts to question what her fake grave can help her with before remembering something she said after a case years ago. I need to know that I can be human.

“Being reminded of your own mortality isn’t the right perspective to have.”  He spoke softly even though he wanted to scream.  

“Don’t you get it?  It’s a reminder of how fragile life is.  Logically speaking, I shouldn’t be here.”  She scrunches up her eyes, a tear streaks down her face as she pounds her fist into the ground.

His hand shoots out and covers her fist that is still resting on the snow-soaked grass.  His touch finally breaks her out of her trance with her eyes finally meeting his.

“But you are here.  Living, breathing.  Dammit Emily! Don’t you understand?  You can’t move on until you finally accept that you are meant to be here.  With me! With us.”  He is grasping at her hand like she will disappear any second while his shoulders are shaking with the intensity of his breath.  She keeps his stare for a second, before turning away back to the headstone.

“Am I?”  She whispers. He lightly grasps at her chin, moving her head to face him again.

“Forever and always.”  That little phrase breaks her.  In a second, she leaps from her spot into his lap, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck.  The reaction almost pushes him backwards into the snow, but he quickly settles himself. His hand moves and starts stroking the back of her head in a practiced movement before he gently starts rocking them consoling her quietly in her ear trying to overpower her chant of “I’m sorry.” They stay wrapped around each other until he spares a glance at his watch, telling him that it is half past one in the morning.

“Come on.  Let’s get you home.”  He whispers into her ear, helping her up to her feet.  He feels her shiver against him as a large gust of wind almost knocks the both of them from their feet.  Only now does he notice that she’s been in just a sweater this whole time.  

“Jesus Em, you couldn’t have brought a jacket?”  Shedding his coat, he drapes it over her shoulders before wrapping his arm around her waist guiding her to his car.

“Left it in the car.  Didn’t realize how long it’s been.”  She chatters out to him, leaning closer towards him for warmth.  He lets out a frustrated sigh before picking up the pace, trying to get her to shelter.

He helps her into the passenger seat of his car, passing off her concerns about her car.  “We’ll take care of it in the morning.”  

He quickly makes his way into the driver’s seat to turn the car on.  They sit in the warming car for a couple minutes in complete silence.  Neither quite knowing what to say to the other.  After another minute, Hotch figures it’s best to start to drive to her apartment.  It’s not until they are halfway there that she finally speaks up.

“Aaron?”  She says no more than a whisper.

“Hm?”  He hums out, sparing her a quick glance before looking back to the empty road.

“I – I, thank you.”

His lips start to curve up into a smile and he removes one hand from the steering wheel to grasp at hers, stopping her from the continued picking of her nails.  He squeezes her hand gently in response before leaving their fingers intertwined.  Neither of them speak until he parks back at her apartment complex.

She starts to let go of his hand to make her exit before his voice stops her.

“Em?”  With her hand still on the inside latch, she turns to face him.  “I know it’s not my place anymore, but please don’t be afraid to come to me.  If you’re having a bad day, let me know.  You mean so much to me.  I meant it when I said forever and always.”

She slowly nods her head, before leaning forward to give him an awkward hug across the center console.  Pulling away, she shyly gives him a peck on the cheek before whispering.  “Forever and always.”

She opens the door, and goes to leave his jacket on the seat, but he holds up a hand to stop her.  “Give it to me tomorrow.”  

Smiling softly, she nods before closing the door.  He patiently waits until he sees the light go on in her apartment. He waits until he sees her figure standing in the window, giving him a small wave.  Like before.  He slowly pulls out of the parking space, smiling to himself.  Yeah, things are starting to make sense again.

#prompts #prompt writing #allie writes #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss #we love when inspiration strikes you #also love doing prompts way out of order #i apologize to the other prompts that came before this that i sidelined to write this one #very late tho #this is from my 350 celebration #which was at least 2 months ago?? #sorry besties #hope you enjoy

[shuadotcom]

Crystal Snow | JJK

❅ Summary: When you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous. ❅ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader ❅ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, idolverse ❅ Rating: G ❅ Warnings: None! ❅ Word Count: 1.6k ❅ A/N: So this is an old drabble I re-wrote and was going to finish in time for holiday bingo, but that didn’t happen oops. I figured I’d finally finish it in honor of the snow in Korea this week!

Snow is everywhere, covering buildings and bus stops and cars. It blankets the streets of Seoul so heavily that everything around the city is silent. There’s barely anyone out and about with the snow so heavy and the sun setting, which makes it the perfect time for BTS to be out in public.

The seven over-excitable men hurry to the park nearest to their dorm, plastic sleds in tow.

"Took you guys long enough! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting here?!" You whine. You’re bundled up in a white coat with a matching scarf coiled around your neck. A bright blue beanie sits on your head with flecks of snow still sitting unmelted on the fabric. The seven men all break into identical grins as they wave at you.

Jungkook sprints ahead of the group, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into a hug. A few giggles slip out when your feet leave the ground as you cling to his neck.

"Koo put me down! I’m too heavy!" Jungkook obliges, but not before stealing a kiss from your lips.

“No way. You’re perfect.” He murmurs and nuzzles your cold noses together.

"Ew, you guys are gross," Seokjin complains, nudging Jungkook out of the way to get a hug of his own. "You act like we all don't know she's your girlfriend, Jungkookie. No one's going to steal her from you."

"Yeah, and besides, it won't be stealing if she comes to me willingly," Jimin smirks at you and sends you a wink before pulling you in for a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes at him, while Jungkook stares daggers at the back of his hyung’s head.

Yoongi comes up next to him and nudges him in the side. "He's kidding, Jungkook. None of us are going to take Y/n from you, okay?" Jungkook puffs out his cheeks and nods at the older man. Of course, he knows that. That doesn’t mean he likes when they joke around like that with you.

"Okay, before Jungkook kills us all and buries our bodies in the snow, what say we go sledding first?" Hoseok speaks up, noticing the youngest’s grip on your coat sleeve. "The last one to the tree over there has to sled with Namjoon!" With a yell of 'hey!' from the leader in question, everyone takes off towards the biggest tree in the middle of the park.

It's not that Namjoon is bad at sledding per se. He just isn’t good at steering. Seokjin had been his willing partner the year prior, and both men ended up stuck in a snowbank when Seokjin told Namjoon to go left, and he had gone right.

The eight of you all but collide with one another to get to the tree, and in the end, Jungkook trips over his own two feet and is the last to make it.

"Oops, sorry, Jungkookie! It looks like you get to ride with Namjoon." Taehyung shrugs and sends Jungkook a smile that says he most certainly is not sorry for his loss.

The next few minutes are spent with the rest of the group dividing into pairs as Yoongi hands out everyone’s sled. Jungkook walks next to Namjoon as you all trek up the highest hill in the park. It’s a few feet up, which allows enough speed to make turns while racing down it instead of just being a straight, boring drop.

Upon reaching the top, everyone gathers with their partner and gets themselves ready. Jungkook scans the group and finds you being helped onto the sled by Seokjin, who you’d be riding with. He pouts as he watches him adjust your scarf, feeling jealousy fill him. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks it isn’t fair that he’s unable to sled with his own girlfriend.

"Jungkook, did you hear me?!" He jolts when he hears the booming voice next to him. He turns and is met with Namjoon's intense stare.

"What?"

"I said, do you want to steer the back or the front?"

"Front," he answers immediately, recalling that last year's incident was caused by Namjoon operating the front end of the sled.

"Ready?!" Jimin calls out once everyone is seated. "One...two...three, go!" As soon as the word leaves his mouth, he and Taehyung take off first down the hill in their sled. There are a few shouts from the other two pairs as one by one, they both follow behind the duo currently in the lead. Jungkook watches as you and Seokjin zip away, and he feels a jab through his layers of clothes.

“Let’s go, Jungkook!”

Oh yeah. He’s supposed to be racing too.

He helps Namjoon push their sled forward, the frigid air starting to whip in his face as they move. He momentarily forgets why he had been sulking as he leans left and right to control the piece of plastic under him.

He and Namjoon started last, but they pass Yoongi and Hoseok in the blink of an eye. Jungkook quickly catches sight of your familiar blue beanie and sees you and Seokjin only a couple of inches in front of him. His eyes are locked on you as you tilt forward to increase the speed of your sled, and Jungkook does the same, determined to catch up.

If he had been paying attention, he probably would've heard Namjoon calling his name. He also would've seen the snowbank in front of them before they ended up smacking into it face first.

Jungkook could vaguely hear the laughter of his friends around him as he lies there, letting the snow soak into his clothes and hair. It isn’t until he feels a pair of hands tugging on the back of his coat that he attempts to move. The first thing he’s met with is his favorite pair of eyes staring at him with worry.

"Jungkook, are you okay?" Your mouth is turned downward in a frown as you look him over to make sure he isn’t injured.

"I'm fine." You help him to his feet and begin brushing off the snow from his shoulders and hair, mumbling about how he needs to be more careful and pay better attention. He barely listens to you, though, as he’s more interested in how unbearably cute you look when you fret over him.

"Well, it looks like you're the new sledding jinx," Hoseok says, approaching the two of you. He leans over and punches Jungkook in the arm, the younger frowning in response.

"Yeah, and Jimin and Taehyung are the self-proclaimed 'sledding kings.’" Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Which means they're never going to shut up about it." Seokjin jerks his head in the direction of the two in question, who are packing mounds of snow together in the distance. "Hey, what the hell are you two doing over there?!"

Jimin scoffs and turns to look over his shoulder. "I will insist you all address me as 'Your Majesty' from now on. Tae and I are no longer peasants like the rest of you." He brushes his gloved hands together to rid them of excess snow before he turns and sits on his snow throne. Taehyung copies his actions, and they both look at the rest of the group.

"Now," Taehyung starts, "Since we are the sledding kings, we have a few requests. Our first is that Jin hyung prepares us a dinner of our choice when we go home later." He waves his hand in the older man’s direction, who, in turn, begins yelling about not being their personal chef.

"Secondly,” Jimin begins, talking over a still complaining Seokjin. “We cannot rule over the frozen kingdom on our own. We need a queen to rule with us." He jumps up and quickly grabs your hand.

"I don't think so!" Jungkook yanks your other hand and tugs you back towards him, making you fall into his arms with Jimin nearly tripping in response.

The two men have a momentary stare down before Jimin relents and releases you. "Fine. " He recovers swiftly, immediately launching into something about appointing Hoseok as a court jester.

Jungkook turns and beelines for the park exit, tugging you behind him before you can hear anymore.

"Jungkook, where are we going?"

"Back to the dorm. I'm cold and hungry, and there's snow in my pants." You let out a laugh and hold on tighter to Jungkook's hand.

"Whatever you wanna do is fine with me as long as I get to spend time with you."

Jungkook stops abruptly, making you run into the back of him.

"Jungkook, wha-" He turns and grabs your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss. Even though it’s cold outside and both of your cheeks are freezing, the two of you feel nothing but warmth running through you as your lips move against one another. The kiss is lazy and sweet, and Jungkook would stay here like this all night if a sudden gust of icy wind hadn't chosen this moment to hit him right in the face. You shiver in his arms, and he pulls away to tighten your coat around your body and lay his arm over your shoulders.

"Come on. The quicker we get home, the quicker we can get warm." You nod and rest your head against him as you walk. You had both been excited to go out with the guys and play in the first snow of the year, but the idea of just the two of you curling up in bed under a blanket with hot chocolate sounds even better.

#btsnoonanet #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsguild #bangtanuniversity #magicshopnet #thebtsficarchive #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #bangtanstation #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jeongguk fic #jeongguk fluff

[melismaticmadness]

STOLEN

Request: “Request for a Owen x reader: Owen and the reader have been best friends forever and both confess their feelings when the reader helps Owen get settled in his new apartment” 

Hope you like it!!

Description: the cutest FLUFF

1775 words

Warnings: kissing, very mild language

Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

***********************************

“Miss Dinah, let me take that.”

“No, it’s okay honey! I’ll just put it in his truck. Are you two sure you can take this last load yourselves?”

“Yeah! We’ll be fine, it’s like four boxes.” Miss Dinah patted me on the shoulder and left to put the last box into Owen’s truck. It was brand new, and honestly, a godsend for him right now. There is no way he would’ve wanted to take a thousand trips to move all his stuff in his small car.

“O,” I yelled to him upstairs, “anything else up there?”

“Uh, I’m not sure…” his voice trailed off. I started up the stairs and could hear him pacing in his childhood bedroom.

“Think I should take the extra blanket?” he asked.

“You took, like, four. You can always come back for it if you decide you want it later. I’m sure your mom won’t trash the stuff you leave behind.”

He was still pacing but was definitely thinking pretty hard about something.

“It’ll be so weird...obviously this will always be home, but now at the end of the day I won’t be coming back here…”

“This room will always be here if you need it, and your family is less than 30 minutes away. You can come chill with Bindi anytime you want. You’re just taking the next step for yourself.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely time. This is a good thing, but tonight will be hard to sleep. Ugh,” he sighed and threw his arm over my shoulders.

“Let’s go, y/n - before my mom cries.”

We both laughed and said our final goodbye to his childhood room. Nothing would be the same now, even if the room was still there. His drums were gone, his hats were gone, his photos, everything. We played so many games on the floor of his living room, listened to musicals over and over again in his room, and definitely took advantage of his mom and dad making snacks for us. It was here, in his house, that I cried into his arms when a bully in middle school made jokes about my appearance.

His room was the place I first realized I had feelings for him. We were thirteen and it was in the summer after a day of swimming and a night-time bonfire with our friends. I was allowed to stay the night and we had a blast. The two of us were inseparable and unstoppable. Those feelings never went away, no matter how long we were apart, or how much our lives changed. It’s crazy to think that those two little energetic, slightly sunburnt kids were leaving the same house years later, still best friends.

Out in the driveway, his mom was talking to a neighbor and we were making sure everything in the bed of his truck was secure before we hit the road.

“Got everything?” Miss Dinah said.

“Yeah, Mom, if not I’ll come back during the week. Are you sure it’s okay that I’m leaving some stuff in my room? I just don’t know what to do with it yet.”

“Don’t worry about it. Have a safe drive and let me know when you’re finished.”

“Will do, Mom. Love you.”

With a kiss and a hug from Owen’s mom, I threw myself up into the truck and we were off.

*****************************************

There were so many things to set up at the apartment. It makes me glad that it was Owen moving and not me. He has a lot less stuff than I do.

We spent hours setting up closet organizers, deciding how the decorative couch pillows should look, cleaning windows, hanging curtains, folding towels, everything.

Hours went by and we had just finished anchoring a really heavy mirror to the wall when Owen mentioned calling it a night.

“I just can’t do anymore today, y/n. I don’t even want to put the sheets on my bed, I’m so tired.”

“Let’s just hurry up and do it really quick and then we can warm up the food your mom sent and watch a movie.”

“Ugh, fine. I guess I do need a bed. Crap, what time is it? Do you need to be home?”

“No, I’m good. If you’re too tired later to drive, my mom said she’d come to get me on her way home from work.”

“Fantastic. You warm up the food, I’ll start on the bed.”

I headed to the kitchen and started warming up our dinner. I even made some popcorn for our movie later. When I got back to Owen’s room, he had made the bed and was laying on it in total darkness.

“Uh, your order is ready..”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do in, like, a day when your mom’s food runs out?”

“Starve probably,” he replied sarcastically, “I think I’ll use this magical device called the stove and cook something.”

“Remind me to write down Poison Control’s number before I go then…” I laughed.

“Haha so funny. What do you wanna watch?” He said sitting up and scooting right next to me. Owen was so close I could feel his body heat, but I wasn’t complaining. It did make my stomach do flips and my heart race though.

“I don’t care. Whatever you want.” He knew I meant that and so he picked Baby Driver.

We ate mostly in silence, and then we were laying down, heads touching on his bed, just watching the movie. Laying there with him was probably the closest I would ever get to be with him as anything more than friends. I was fine with that though if it meant always having moments like these.

The movie had 20 minutes left so I reached over to his nightstand for my phone that was charging, so I could text my mom for a ride. I knew Owen was too tired to drive me all the way home.

“Hey, no phones during movies. That’s a rule,” he whispered as he reached over and put my phone back on the nightstand.

“Sorry, I just had to text my mom to let her know she should come to pick me up!” I said, grabbing his arm and play-fighting him for my phone.

We were both laughing hysterically as he tried holding my phone over our bodies out of my reach until my phone fell out of Owen’s hand and onto the floor.

“Oh shit, is it okay?” We both reached over the same side of the bed to get it, our bodies completely touching as his chest leaned over my back.

“I got it. It’s fine.” I hit send on my message to my mom and locked my phone as the credits rolled past on the screen.

“What if you didn’t leave?” We were both lying on our backs again, but this time my eyes flew over to meet his. I wasn’t sure that I heard him or if he said what I thought he had said.

“O, you’re too tired to drive me later.”

“No, No. I mean what if you just stayed here tonight,” he rolled over to face me, “if you wanted to…”

“Really. Owen, it’s okay. I can have my mom come, it’s no big deal.”

Owen sat up and had his head in his hands. “Y/n, I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

“Owen, what are you talking about?” My mind was racing. Could he be trying to say what I hoped he would say for years? I couldn’t even think straight and if he kept going I think I might have thrown up.

“God, I’m sorry, I just- I’m very scared to mess this up.”

“You’re not messing anything up..I’ll stay if it makes you happy, I am totally cool with that, but I’m stealing a blanket for the couch.”

“Y/n, look at me,” Owen said, taking my arms in his hands, “I have- I- Okay, so here it is: I don’t want to ruin what we have because you’re literally my oldest and best friend, but I can’t keep doing this. I want to kiss you when we have to say goodbye from now on, I want to take you on cheesy dates, and make breakfast together in my nice new apartment. And I’m sorry if this messed things up between us, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I have wanted to be with you for years and spending all this time together this year just made me realize I never want to worry if you’re still mine when I leave and come back again.” Owen sighed with what was probably a mix of relief and anxiety.

“I don’t know what to say. I-,” I started.

“You don’t have to say anything..” He let go of me and now was sitting further away from me.

“No, I do. Owen. I have wanted to hear you say that for- god I don’t even know how long- definitely years, possibly even my whole life. I never seriously went after other guys because no one could compare to you. Even when you were shooting a show thousands of miles away and I didn’t know if you had found someone, I couldn’t find anyone who made me feel like you did. I still can’t.. So I guess what I’m saying is I want all those things too. I don’t think it’ll ruin us.”

Before I could even get up or move, Owen’s lips were on mine. He was so soft and gentle. How was this happening to me? The little blonde boy who played with me in kindergarten, and danced with me in the snow when we were ten, and let me cry into his arms, was kissing me.

He released me from his hold and our foreheads touched.

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Hi.”

“So, I’m staying here tonight…”

“Only if you want to. We can put The Office on and just hang out. Then tomorrow I have an idea for a date,” he said tapping my nose as he moved away.

“Wow, you sure do move fast, Joyner.”

“FAST?! It’s been like 15 years! I was dying here!”

“You were dying?! Try having to watch you go off to LA and knowing you would be around so many beautiful people who could steal you away from me…”

“I never could have been stolen away. I’ve always been yours.” He said, planting a chaste kiss on my forehead.

“I guess I should tell my mom not to come. Since I’m staying with you, do you think we could try that kissing thing again?” I smirked.

“Hmm, I think I can arrange that…”

#owen joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner #charles gillespie #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #jatp

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

hungry eyes (pjm)

Summary: Jimin's summer job is more often than not a pain in the ass, but you seem different than the other girls who need dance instruction at the resort.

A/n: A commission for @kpopnoobsstuff​! 

Warnings: dirty dancing au, some prejudice given race relations for Asian Americans in the 60′s but not a lot of detail, unprotected sex, public vaginal fingering, praise, dirty talk, Jimin is a jackass like over half this fic, a serious ankle injury, angst, mention of sex work (with an age gap), alcohol, smoking

Word Count: 8767 (i have a lot of feelings about this movie)

Rating: Mature

hey, hey hey baby

Of all the things Jimin had dreamed he'd end up doing, working as a dance instructor/gigolo at an expensive resort wasn't one of them.

Julliard wasn't cheap, though, and so every summer he ended up here at Sanders resort, teaching salsa and letting old ladies put hundred dollar bills into the back pocket of his slacks as tips.

Jimin fucking hated the crowd at the resort, hated the way they smelled like new money and champagne, how they looked at him like either a side of meat (the women) or like something that they needed to scrape off the bottom of their shoe (most of the men).

It's better than before, digging ditches during the summer and shoveling snow during the winter because no one is going to hire a Korean boy for an office no matter how good his English.

His hands had cracked and bled, forming callouses where they'd been smooth before and he finds himself running his thumbs over the ones on his palms while waiting for his cue in rehearsal.

When his coworker tells him of a gig he'd done, Jimin's eyebrow raised at his friend's paycheck.

Having to go by "Jimmy" instead of Jimin because the supervisors think his given name is too hard to pronounce puts a bad taste in his mouth, but he needs the money. It isn't as if he can tell his parents he's decided to be a professional dancer instead of a doctor or lawyer like they'd dreamed, and they didn't have the funds to help with tuition anyway.

So he spends every summer rolling his hips for the hungry eyes in the crowd, smiling and pretending that them purring, "Jimmy" in his ear doesn't make him shudder. It's the third summer before anything truly interesting happens.

Jimin didn't even like salsa or ballroom dancing or the mamba or any of the stupid easily learned dances he was forced to perform. He was a classical dancer, ballet being his forte, but this pays the bills and it's a way to keep his father off his back about his choice in colleges.

The older women weren't so bad, they'd give him anything if he whispered "noona," in their diamond decorated ears, but the younger girls, the ones who came there with daddy's money, those are the ones he doesn't fuck with.

The only woman he'd fucked with outside of work, in fact, had been Sunmi, his best friend since childhood, and even that not for years. Sunmi had followed him to Julliard and to the resort but they'd gone their own way after that and it wasn't as if they were ever in love, after all.

Despite the rumors among the staff, Jimin hasn't touched Sunmi outside of dancing in going on three years. He knew they looked like a couple, moved in tune with each other's bodies, and that's why they got paid the big bonuses.

Maybe he still got a little worked up after performances, liked to work up a sweat after at the dancer's barracks, and who could blame him when he sees you slumming it, tapping your toe to the music with your nose wrinkled and a little smile on your face.

He doesn't even have to say anything, just smiles at you, quirks his finger and you bounce forward ungracefully enough to make him laugh.

Sunmi snickers at him but he waves her off, knows she makes her rounds among the male staff that work in catering so she can't judge.

 You know of Jimmy before you ever see him, having several members of the staff tell you in no uncertain terms to stay away from him, that he's trouble. You're surprised by how good he is, you can't take your eyes off him during the first dance performance of the summer. Jimmy Park certainly looks like trouble, with his sly smirk and the way he’d effortlessly flipped up his partner, Sunny, her skirt flipping up to reveal a pair of boyshorts stretched across her perfect bottom, and you’d swear he’d winked at you after.

You don’t think about the dancers for a while, busy touring the resort with your sister, who’d dragged you to the resort in the first place. You’d wanted to stay home and study, but your father had insisted that you join the family for the summer.

It’s boring, more for the older crowd than someone like you, a junior in college. You’re studying business because that’s what your father wants, but you like to write poetry, and you’re usually content to stay in your room and scribble.

It’s hot, though, the air conditioning not doing much to help the humidity, so you go for a walk, hoping there’s a bit of a breeze.

While you’re out, you run into a staff member, a dancer you think, but you aren’t sure, you’d been so busy watching the instructor. 

“Girl shouldn’t be out this late at night alone. Might get in trouble,” he teases.

He’s cradling bottles of alcohol and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for stealing those?”

He laughs, loud and open. He’s cute, dressed down in a white tshirt and jeans, not like the stuck up staff members that do catering and management in the resort.

“Not if you don’t tell, baby.”

You bristle, but only a little. That’s what everyone calls you, after all, Baby might as well be your name. You’re the youngest and you’ll admit you’ve always been spoiled.

He shuffles the liquor bottles around to stick out his hand. “I’m BamBam.”

You shake his hand, a bit awkwardly because of all that he’s holding. “Interesting name.”

His face falls, just a bit, but then he smiles again. “You don’t know the half of it.” 

Bambam pauses for a moment, and then cocks his head. “You wanna help me with all this? I’ll show you something.”

You’d been warned about being alone with men, you’d had some experiences in college that you’d never tell your family about, it’s not as if you’re a prude, but especially here, so many staff members whispered about how “dangerous” the dance crew was, but you’ve been bored out of your mind, and Bambam seems sweet, if a little flirty.

You shrug and take a couple of bottles, giggling when he sighs dramatically in relief.

It’s such a long walk that you start to get worried, but eventually you start to hear the music, a surprising amount of bass given the attitude of the resort in general, juggling two half liters of expensive vodka likely pilfered from the resort bar.

BamBam kicks the door open, nearly dropping the liquor, and you manage not to laugh but it’s a near thing. The heat almost hits you in the face, the music louder than you’d imagined, and you find your mouth dropping open, looking around at the dancers.

You recognize a few members of the dance team, but none more than Jimmy, the dancer you’d been unable to keep your eyes from earlier that week.

His partner, she’d introduced herself as Sunny and you’d noticed she was nearly as beautiful as him, is practically riding his thigh, her head thrown back as he moves to the music, and you turn your eyes away, embarrassed.

It seems intimate in a way that makes you feel a pang of envy. You’d had flirtations here and there, even a few flings at college (which you pray your father would never catch wind of), but here? In public, in front of everyone?

You try to tell yourself the heat in your stomach is from embarrassment instead of arousal.

When you look over, Bambam is looking over at you with a sly grin. He juggles the liquor bottles.

“You wanna try it?”

You gasp out loud and hope he can’t hear you over the music.

“The dancing,” he explains, all but yelling over the beat.

“Oh!” You exclaim, and his sly grin widens.

“What did you think I meant?” 

“Nothing! Nothing!” You insist, and finally find somewhere to put down your cargo on a large table next to the wall, just to have something to do rather than be embarrassed.

Bambam shrugs and moves to do the same, and you’re just standing there, looking around at everyone and how free and happy they look, so different than the way they look during performances and during instructions.

Bambam is about to say something to you, leaned in toward your ear, when Jimmy walks up to the table, and you freeze like a deer in headlights.

“Hey baby,” he says in this low but melodic tone, and you have this weird sense like you always do when someone calls you that, as if they know you somehow, know you’re the baby and daddy’s little girl and are somehow judging you for it.

To be fair, Jimmy looks like he’s judging everyone, even when he’s pasted on a smile during a rumba class or smirking during a resort wide performance. You’re not sure if it’s confidence, arrogance, or anger, but you have to admit it’s a little attractive, the way his dark eyes flash when you put out your hand for him to take.

He doesn’t just lead you out onto the dance floor, he tugs at your arm, pulls you close to his chest, looks down at you as if you’re lovers and you suppose the way the others dance, that’s just how this goes, that’s how the dance goes, but when he slides his thigh between yours you can’t help but gasp.

He laughs right at the shell of your ear and it makes goosebumps pop up on the flesh between your neck and shoulder.

“You gotta move your hips, baby. Nobody likes a dead fish.”

It takes a few moments and more of your face feeling hot but you manage to get a rhythm and it’s hotter in here than you’d expected, sweat rolling from the fine hairs at your temples to your neck, his hands on your hips and his eyes on yours and it’s intense, makes you wonder if this is what you’ve been missing out on when you refuse to go with your sister to the staff parties that she’s been trying to drag you to the whole resort stay.

His face is so close you can see the sweat on his brow, the way his full lips are parted, leaning closer and closer in and you could swear he is going to kiss you, you even tilt your chin up, part your own lips, close your eyes.

Then he spins you, instead, and you feel dizzy, open your eyes, and see him striding off toward the back of the building.

You huff out a long breath, torn between storming out into the cool night air or following him, deeper into the humid building, like descending into hell if you were to believe the way your father’s pastor preaches at your hometown church.

You look back at the open door, the breeze cooling the sweat on your body and making you shiver, before you follow him, weaving between the people on the crowded dance floor with murmured apologies.

You follow him all the way out into the night, just on the other side, and you feel a little stupid for your dramatic thinking earlier, watching him exhale smoke from his nose, leaned against he back of the barn.

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t make any indication that he knows you’re there.

“Jimmy?” You call, and you’d meant to be flirty, aggressive even, but it comes out small in the cold air.

He scoffs, takes another drag from his cigarette, glances over at you.

“What, you gonna pay for a lesson? Bet you didn’t bring daddy’s wallet with you when you followed Bam.”

“I-I didn’t-I don’t,”

He smiles then, not as much of a smirk, and it softens his face.

“Don’t worry,  baby. I'm only teasing. I’m not gonna tell your daddy you’re out here slumming it.”

“I’m not-” your voice raises and he turns his head to face you, one eyebrow raised, and you lower your tone. “I’m not slumming it.”

He shrugs lazily, offers you a drag of his cigarette and you don’t smoke but you place your lips around the end anyway, wonder if you can taste his mouth on it, inhale and manage not to cough.

“Jimmy-” you continue, and he rolls his eyes and your heart races, feeling like you’d said something stupid, and maybe you have because he flicks his cigarette into the night, turns, bracing himself against the wall and when he’s closer you wonder if he’s drunk, you can smell some type of acrid liquor and the leather of his jacket.

“My name is Jimin,” he says, and there’s no slur at all around his words so maybe you’re wrong about that last part.

“Jimin,” you repeat, the name rolling around your mouth, feeling thick on your tongue like the red wine you sip at your father’s dinner parties. You find yourself tilting your chin up again as he nods sharply and your eyes keep flickering between the sharp line of his jaw and his full mouth.

“I know your kind,” he continues, and you haven’t even partaken in any of the liberally spiked punch at the party but you’re the one who feels drunk, your head light on your shoulders.

“My...kind?”

Jimin does that sharp nod again, shifts his body so that he’s standing in front of you now and your shoulders brush the back wall of the barn.

“Mmhm. Come out here on Saturday nights to see what all the fuss is about, you college girls with fur lining your purses, I swear to God I could taste the silver spoon in your mouth if I kissed you,” he breathes, his words rude and harsh but you don’t move, don’t push him away, can’t stop staring up at the flash in his eyes.

That’s what they’ve been missing, you think. That’s what all those college boys you’ve let put their hands up your skirt, grab your tit too hard in the backseat of their muscle cars, even let them fuck you over the hood of said muscle cars, hoping for some kind of thrill because it’s wrong and dirty but all you got was their cum seeping down your inner thigh and their murmured apologies and this ache between your legs. Because they didn’t have this, this energy you can feel in the air, the light in his eyes, something like anger and lust and yearning all wrapped into one.

It isn’t even for you, not really, you’re not dumb enough to believe that, but god, is it something.

“You could test that theory,” you mumble, sure that your words sound slurred, leaning into him, and his chuckle is bitter but it still sends a hint of a shiver down your spine. He traces his finger under your chin, the corners of that full mouth turning up.

“What makes you think I want to, baby?”

You’re cute, he supposes, in that way that all little rich girls are cute, with your bouncy ponytail that you almost always wear, your conservative dresses. After he’d left you outside with just the smoke from his rolled cigarette hanging in the air, he prided himself in not giving in.

He’s positive he could have fucked you, could have coaxed you to his room with a few short words, but he knows from the rest of the dance team (especially from Bambam, who’d bagged his fair share of the rich daughters of CEOs, bank owners, lawyers, doctors, and the like from the resort, considered himself a bit of an expert in the matter), that taking one of those types to your bed leads to nothing but drama. 

Drama wasn’t something Jimin needed, especially since all the odds were already stacked against him in this job (in life, really, but who’s counting?) Jimin wouldn’t consider himself a bitter person, in fact throughout his childhood and most of his adolescence, he’d been positive, optimistic, always smiling. He’d gotten stellar grades, always did what his parents wanted, had even planned to work on law school after graduation. The one class he took was mind numbingly boring, and he had no aptitude for debating. He’d been naïve, foolishly thought that his father would support whatever he wanted to do, and since he felt most alive when he was with his friends, dancing, making their own choreography, he’d approached his father with an application to Julliard.

Needless to say, Jimin became less naïve day by day, after that. It was gradual, his fall from grace, as some people might say. He thought of it more as growing up, as becoming more who he should be - and if that was a bitter asshole who manipulated rich older women into his bed for extra funds, so be it.

This isn’t to say that he doesn’t feel shame about it sometimes, or even guilt, especially like with Mrs. Jensen, nearing fifty but with the most beautiful  green eyes and the way she called him “Jiminie,” had insisted on learning his real name, traced the line of his spine in bed before he got up to dress and murmured how he was the most beautiful boy.

“If I were twenty years younger, Jiminie. Hell, I were only ten years younger,” she’d mourn, those green eyes almost liquid, and he’d smile and tell her she didn’t look a day over thirty and she’d scoff but she’d also smile, and when she smiles sometimes Jimin thinks that if he isn’t careful, age gap or no, he might just fall in love.

In the end, though, he felt okay about what he did, it was a means to an end, and if he judged the denizens of the resort too harshly, that’s because they could take it, no skin off their teeth with their millions of dollars in the bank. They could dry their tears with hundred dollar bills.

It isn’t until daylight the next morning, when Jimin wakes up slightly hungover and chugs a glass of water, when there’s this flash of your face in his head, tilted up to his, this almost hungry look in your eyes.

He’d like to say he’d seen that look before, but he hasn’t. Not quite in the same way.

Jimin doesn’t want to think about it long, and for a while he’s able to distract himself with his morning workout and then rehearsal, but for the first time in several summers, he misses a couple of steps and Sunmi looks at him from the corner of her eye with a sly smile.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, and she laughs and does a little piourette.

Jimin thinks later maybe she was hungover too, or had taken too many of those codeine pills she claimed were for her periods, but she loses her balance and goes down, too quick for Jimin to catch her, off the stage, her foot caught under her body.

She cries out but then bites her lip, hard, knowing that the supervisor was just around the corner, gorging himself on snacks and champagne while they all worked for hours to get the steps just right.

Jimin tries not to show it, but he knows as soon as he hops off the stage that Sunmi’s ankle is broken, and badly. It’s already swollen, already turning a bit purple, a bit of bone poking through, a streak of blood down her foot.

“Fuck,” Sunmi says in a pained whisper, eyes liquid when she looks up at him. “Jiminie, what am I gonna do?”

Jimin knows she doesn’t mean the ankle. He knows she means the next rehearsal and the next, the big dance they’ll be doing at a nearby resort, representing the dance troupe and the hotel. He knows she means her whole fucking life because if she loses this she can’t pay for Julliard.

“We’ll figure it out, jagiya,” he says softly, lifting her into his arms. Sunmi buries her face in his chest and Jimin makes hand signals at a wide eyed Bambam to distract the supervisor while Jimin carries her back to the barracks.

There’s nothing but nervous energy throughout your body the rest of the week, as you sit through your father gorging himself on shrimp, your mother chugging champagne, your sister flirting with the staff members at the buffet. You’re barely able to make conversation, not that anyone notices. You’re used to being ignored, as the baby of the family. All you can think of is the dance instructor’s full lips inches from yours, his finger trailing up your throat before he’s just gone and you’re all but swooning with the smell of him around you like a haze.

You’d seen him a few times that week, watching from far away as he twirled a few women around the dance floor, once at a resort performance, right in front and center, seen the way his nose wrinkled when they introduced him as “Jimmy Park.” He hadn’t given you a second glance, and while it stung, you weren’t one to give up easily, not after how you’d felt when he’d looked at you, really seen you.

You’re sneaking out of the resort room when it’s barely ten pm on the last Sunday, unable to wait any longer and shimmying out the back window just as you had the other night. You manage to remember the way to the barn, and even if you didn’t you can practically feel the music booming under your feet, the faint sound drawing you closer.

Your heart rate increases as you get closer and you stand near the edge of the building, a wallflower as always, but your eyes are searching the floor. You don’t see him anywhere, and after a few moments you’re sure your lip is turning into a pout. You do spot Bambam, your ambassador from the other night, and you figure he might know something about Jimin’s whereabouts.

Bambam goes uncharacteristically quiet when you bring up Jimin’s name, though, face blanching slightly.

You look at him curiously. “Is something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “No. Fine, everything’s fine.”

“Bambam?”

He won’t look at you, rocking back and forth on his heels, and then he freezes. “Hey. Baby.”

“Hmm?” You’re distracted, looking around at the crowd in hopes that Jimin will show.

“Didn’t you say your father was a doctor?”

It’s a whirlwind after that, your brief panic wondering what might be wrong, the internal struggle to know if you should wake up your father or not, knowing he’ll ask what you’ve been doing out and about, waking your father and having Bambam lead you both to the dancer’s barracks, where you see Jimin sitting on the coffee table, getting up when Bambam bursts in with your father, who is carrying his doctor’s bag.

“What the fuck-” he hisses in a low voice, looking right at Bambam and not even acknowledging you.

Your father, for his part, rushes to the couch, where Sunmi is bundled in blankets but still shivering, sweat on her brow, and when your father yanks back the blanket you gasp because her right foot is dark purple and swollen.

For the first time, Jimin looks at you, and there’s nothing but dark fury in her eyes. “Get her out of here,” he demands, and Bambam’s mouth opens and closes like a fish.

“Jimin-” you start, and he scoffs, turns away from you, toward your father, thanking him for coming and explaining what happened, ignoring you as if you were never there at all.

You wait anxiously in the living quarters, and you wince when you hear Sunmi cry out as your father works on her ankle. It takes hours, and while you wait, Bambam explains what happened and you just cock your head, confused.

“Why didn’t she just see a doctor?”

Bambam frowns, but before he can answer Jimin is stalking into the room.

“Yeah, why didn’t she just see a doctor?” Jimin mocks, staring at you with glittering eyes. “It’s that easy, princess?”

You don’t know how to answer, your face feeling hot, and you want to look away but you can’t. “Explain it to me.”

Jimin laughs, bitter and low. “You’d never understand, Baby. We can’t all call daddy and have him throw money at the situation.”

“Jimin, she brought him here to help us, we should be kind-” Bambam protests, and Jimin waves a hand at him.

Jimin turns to you, takes your hand and even though his eyes are still glittering with anger, your breath catches in your throat at his touch.

You’re perched on the arm of a chair and he leans down slightly, brushes his lips just barely over the back of your hand, all the while looking into your eyes.

“Thank you, princess, for deigning to help us peasants,” he says, voice low and charming and absolutely dripping with venom.

Anger rises in your chest, tightening in your throat but you stay quiet, jerking your hand from his and looking away.

Your father tersely gives instructions to Jimin after both Sunmi and Jimin refuse a hospital, and Jimin nods, but you see his face fall when he says something about how she is not to bear weight on her ankle for six weeks at least.

Your father is escorting you out with a blank expression but you’re looking back at Jimin and he’s watching you with those dark, glittering eyes.

It’s only a few days before your father has to go back and visit Sunmi, and he’s barely spoken a word to you, angry that you hadn’t told him about your friendships with the staff, you suppose. You can’t bring yourself to care, you’re an adult and even if he’s paying your tuition, he doesn’t have the right to tell you with whom to spend your time.

You insist on going with him to check on Sunmi, and you do sit with her for a few moments before you hear Jimin and Bambam arguing.

“Can’t someone else do it?”

You know Jimin’s scoff well by now, it seems like that’s what he’d been doing most of the few weeks you’d known him.

“No, Bam, someone else can’t do it! No one else knows the routine, it’s a special stage for Sunmi and me. Maria’s on maternity leave and Sooyoung can’t learn it in two weeks on top of the final rehearsals for the final show.”

“Do what?” You ask softly, standing in the doorway and shutting Sunmi’s door behind you.

“Can’t go a week without princess butting her head in,” Jimin mutters, and you huff out a breath.

“It’s a special dance stage,” Bambam explains. “Sunmi is expected there and so far she’s been able to get out of rehearsals but if the performance doesn’t happen, the supervisor…” he trails off, and you fill in the gaps.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Can’t fix this with daddy’s money,” Jimin snaps.

“I wasn’t trying to-” you cry out, and then lower your voice. “I wasn’t trying to fix it, I just...I wanted to help.”

Jimin laughs. “Help? How? You shivered when I so much as brushed my hand across your hip when we danced.”

Bambam raises an eyebrow at that and you keep trying to fight down anger.

“I could...I could learn,” you insist.

“You are a dance instructor,” Bambam reminds him helpfully, and although Jimin is still incredulous, that's how it happens.

That’s how you start to spend three days a week at Jimin’s small bedroom, learning the steps to the most complicated dance you’d ever heard of. That’s how you start to fall in love with him.

I wanna know, oh

This is stupid, he thinks, over and over. This is so fucking stupid and it isn’t going to work and I’ll fail and Sunmi will be fired. Hell, I might be fired.

You keep stumbling in the heels you’d be required to wear for the dance and you’re taller than Sunmi so that throws off the whole performance and you only have just a touch of rhythm and you have an attitude and the list goes on and on.

The two of you are two weeks into rehearsals when it all comes to a head. You’d huffed out a long breath or given him a withering stare before, when he’d snapped at you or corrected your steps roughly, but usually you let it go.

There’s not enough room in his tiny space, and it’s not like the two of you were exactly friends, so it’s tense, for the most part.

One day, at the last rehearsal of the week, he spins you and you miss a step, stomp down on the top of his foot with your heel and he cries out and curses.

“This is never going to work,” he mutters when you try to help and you let out an annoyed almost growl that, in other circumstances, he might find kind of cute.

“You could give me a little goddamn credit, you know!” You yell, and he stops rubbing his foot and looks up at you.

Maybe he’d been a little dramatic, it didn’t hurt as much as he’d put on, but if that happened during the performance….

“Credit for what?” He bursts out.

You put your hands on your hips and you’re wearing this barely there white croptop and a flowing skirt and (not for the first time), he notices the swell of your hip, the outline of your breast.

“For one, bringing my father to help Sunmi-”

Jimin barks out a laugh at this, his eyes returning to your face. “Takes a real saint to call daddy-”

“Second,” you continue firmly, voice raising over his, “for working three days a week for hours to try and help you and your girlfriend keep your jobs!”

He opens his mouth to correct you but your voice keeps rising, your eyes full of fury.

“And last of all but most importantly, putting up with your constant bullshit! I can’t do anything good enough for you and I really just want to punch you and leave.”

Jimin pauses, stands up straight and looks at you for a moment. As much as he hates this situation he can’t let you quit. He needs you, more importantly Sunmi needs you, and he’ll never forgive himself if he fucks things up for his best friend because he can’t control his temper.

“Do it, then.”

Your eyes widen. “Do what?”

Jimin pats the middle of his chest. “Hit me, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You look at him incredulously.

He smirks at you, makes a little come hither gesture with his hands. “C’mon, princess. You scared?”

There it is, that flash in your eyes that he’s come to know well even during such a short time, and it makes the hair on the nape of his neck stand up.

You punch him, just at his diaphragm, weakly, and he laughs.

“C’mon, Baby. You can do better than that.” 

He takes a step closer and you just keep looking at him, your canine piercing your bottom lip, still breathing hard from the rehearsal.

He can’t deny it makes his dick twitch in his sweats, the fire in your eyes, the way he can see the outline of your erect nipples through that croptop.

He leans down closer to your face. “Still wonder if I could taste that silver spoon on your tongue,” he whispers, and then you slap him across the face, hard, making him stumble back with a laugh.

He nods, and you start to gasp out apologies but he holds up a hand. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

It’s been hot all week, and there’s on and off summer showers that come from nowhere. The thunder rumbles as you reach the parking lot and Jimin’s car, a clean but beat up Mustang. 

You dance around a bit as Jimin reaches into the pocket of his sweats for his keys but he curses instead. When you look in the window, cupping your hands, you see the keys in the ignition.

You sigh and stand up to tell Jimin but he’s removing his leather jacket and wrapping it around his fist as you watch, open mouthed.

He busts the back quarter window as if he’s reading the newspaper and unlocks the door, leaning over to pop your lock before cranking it up.

You stand there for a moment, shocked and oddly aroused.

“You coming?” He asks, looking up at you from the driver’s seat, and you scramble inside.

“You’re crazy,” you mumble as he pulls off at a speed that should have scared you but instead filled you with exhilaration. 

He looks over at you, as if confused. “What?”

“I said you’re fucking crazy!” You yell, laughing, and he starts to laugh too and you’ve never heard him like that, open and loud instead of derisive and bitter and there’s rain pouring into the back window but he doesn’t care and you can’t imagine ever feeling that free.

You have that feeling again, the one you’d had standing outside the barn with him, that energy like he’s wanting and hungry all the time and just like then, you want more.

You push that out of your head, though, he’s made it clear where his thoughts lie, and that’s with Sunmi. That’s the whole reason you’re doing this, to help her, help them. It’s certainly not because you just want to be near him, because even when he’s angry at you the way you feel with him makes you feel like you never have before, not because you want to memorize the bow of his lips, the line of his jaw, how his eyes crinkle up at the corners when he smiles.

“Where are we?” You finally ask when he’s pulled off into a clearing in the woods.

“You’ll see.” He grabs your hand and tugs you behind him and your heart skips a beat.

You end up practicing at the river for hours, and you ask questions and he answers them, about his family, how he started dancing, Juilliard and why he’s doing this job.

You’re not surprised that he wants more, he’s too good for this place and you can see it, even though you’re no expert.

He talks a lot more than he ever has, tells you so much about himself and you have fun, laughing and talking with him, he’s barely teaching you anything at all.

Finally, he’s sitting on a high log, swinging his legs and looking down at you as you sit on the shore.

“We haven’t practiced the lift because it’s best to practice in the water,” he says, and that’s how you end up waist deep with his eyes on yours and his hands on your hips.

“Ready?” He asks, quietly, as if there isn’t only the woods and the river and the birds to hear him.

You nod, your mouth dry, but then his hands slip up to your waist and you’re not sure you’re ready at all. Of course he’s touched you during rehearsals, here and there, but not like this, not this close.

“Jump,” he commands, and you do, think you’d have done anything he told you, but he lifts you up effortlessly and you try not to stare down at him as your heels lift off the riverbed, try to look ahead like he’s taught you but it’s impossible and when he lifts you over his head, telling you to hold the position, you go straight into the water, coming up sputtering.

He laughs, pulls you close, and does it again, and this time it works, this time you hold it and he slowly lowers you back down.

Your body slides down his, your nipples brushing his chest, his breath on your throat, and surely this is too close, surely you won’t be doing this on stage in front of people.

“Baby,” he murmurs, close to your ear, like it’s your name, and you shake your head.

“Call me Y/n.”

He says your name and you watch how his lips shape it before you tilt your chin to kiss him, pressing your mouth to his without thought, your lips parted.

His tongue in your mouth is hot, hungry just like you knew it would be, and your arms tighten around his neck. You hear the water moving and gasp into his mouth when you feel his hand slide up your thigh, under your skirt, sliding along the river water soaked crotch of your panties.

“Jimin,” you moan into his mouth, and he just kisses you harder, presses his hand harder against your cunt and you want more more more.

You’d imagined it, late at night, sore and exhausted from rehearsing and you could feel his hand on your hip as he’d turned you, slid your hands down your body imagining they were his, but this is so different, so much better than you’d ever dared to dream.

Suddenly, he pulls away from you, and you whine. 

“We should...we should get back,” he says, voice slightly hoarse, and he wades back to shore while you’re left wanting and aching.

would you be my girl?

You’re quiet in the car, your head spinning, and he doesn’t say a single word until he pulls back up.

“Want me to walk you back to the resort?” He asks quietly as he turns off the car.

You blink at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He doesn’t  look at you, his eyes down in his lap, and you open the door and slam it when you get out.

Jimin knows he should stay put. He should stay put for so many reasons. It’s too much drama, you’re a guest of the resort, you’re a little rich girl with daddy’s money, you deserve better.

But he sees your shoulders shaking and he can’t help himself from getting out, rubbing your shoulders as he leads you inside. You’re shivering now, it’s after sundown and you’re soaking wet.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll get you some tea and some warm clothes.”

He turns to go and heat the kettle but you grab his wrist, tug him back.

“Nobody makes me feel the way you do,” you say in a quiet and shaking voice. “Even when we argue I-”

“Baby. Y/n. Don’t,” he pleads. He feels like he’s right on the edge of something, like he’d fall over with just a single push from you.

All these things are flashing through his head, moments where he’d let himself notice how he felt when you’d do this little growl in frustration when you missed a step, the way your mouth turned down at the corners when you were focused, how you set your jaw when he said something to make you angry. After just a few weeks he’s all but memorized the lines of your body and he’d blamed it on being focused on the performance but he knows somewhere that it’s something else, that you mean something else to him.

“Why?” You ask, sounding almost pained and he can’t stop looking into your eyes and he can’t speak either so he kisses you first this time, one hand at the nape of your neck to pull you close.

We aren’t from the same world, he should say. It won’t work and I’ll break your heart or you’ll break mine and I don’t know if I can take it.

He should say so many things but instead he says nothing at all, just kisses you and kisses you until you jump just like you did in the water, wrap your legs around his waist this time instead and he carries you to his bed, peels off your soaked clothes while you keep kissing him in between, his mouth, his throat, his chin, and it makes him laugh.

You’re bare beneath him and he doesn’t even realize that he still has his wet clothes on until he slides over you to kiss you again and you hiss.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and smiles at you and you blink, have this expression he can’t quite pinpoint. “I’m usually better at this,” he finishes after pulling off his tshirt, and you open your thighs with this slow smile.

“We’ve got time.”

His breath hitches in his throat because that’s probably not true, after tonight you’ll probably avert your eyes when he looks at you in public, come to him late at night like all the others.

Instead of saying that, he curses under his breath and looks down at you, slips his fingers through your slick, sliding two fingers inside you as you arch your back.

You’re so wet already and he’s barely touched you and it makes him groan.

“Look at you. Such a pretty baby,” he praises, moving his fingers because he loves the way your face goes slack, your mouth parted as you writhe against his hand.

“God,” you whimper, voice a little slurred. “Please.”

Jimin feels like he might burst before he even gets out of his sweats, wants to make you come before he does but you lock your legs around his waist, surprising him and he falls forward, catching himself on his palms.

Before he can catch his bearings you drag your tongue along his throat and he groans.

“Baby, you’re full of surprises.”

You smile against his mouth and push down his sweats with your feet and it makes him laugh again, he’s found himself biting back smiles so often with you that it feels good to let it out.

Then his cock is sliding against you and you’re so hot and wet that he bites down on your lip. You cry out softly and rock your hips against his, panting out his name and then he can’t do anything else but slide inside you, burying his face against your throat.

He thinks, too late, that he should have flipped you over, focused on your ass and the line of you spine instead of like this, looking down into your face and the way your eyes focus on his. He knows better, but you’re rolling your hips up to meet his and biting your lip and you keep moaning his name and he can’t stop now.

Your nails rake down his back and he leans up to fuck you harder, hoping to focus on your breasts bouncing instead of how pretty you look beneath him. 

“Baby,” he breathes. “I’m gonna-” 

He doesn’t get to finish because you’re making the prettiest sounds, moving your head from side to side and your cunt clenches around him like a vice.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

It’s been fast and sloppy and he’s almost embarrassed when he comes inside you, but you lock your ankles around the small of his back and pull him down again.

After he’s made that tea he promised earlier and you’re sitting crosslegged on his twin bed, facing him, you call his name softly.

“Hmm?” He asks, distracted by how you look now, your hair mussed, skin slightly flushed.

“Does my mouth taste like silver?”

He frowns until it hits him, what he’d said to you that first night, and then he’s laughing again and tackling you to plant kisses along the side of your face.

Jimin is gone when you wake up, leaving you a note to lock up. No heart drawn there, not even his full name, just a -J at the end. You assume he must feel guilty about Sunmi, assume maybe he never meant for things to go too far and now here you are, heartbroken, and you still have to keep your promises and finish rehearsals and this dance with him.

You stay in your room at the resort for two days, until your scheduled next rehearsal with Jimin, and you feel like you’ve cried enough that when you see him, it’ll be easier.

You walk into the studio already dressed in your leotard and shorts, and he’s standing at the record player and even the set of his shoulders looks stiff, and it makes your heart ache.

You don’t speak, just start taking off your sneakers to put on the heels that you have to practice in, and it’s Jimin who says your name, softly. 

Your real name, not Baby, not sweetheart, and it seems like all the tears you’ve cried the last two days are stuck in your throat.

You take a deep breath before looking up and the words come out before you know what you’re saying.

“I know you’re going to tell me that it was a mistake. I know you’re going to tell me you love Sunmi and I understand. Let’s just not, okay? Let’s just not talk about it because I’m embarrassed and I’m sad and I feel stupid-”

Jimin sits on the floor with you, moves close and presses his forehead to yours.

“I don’t love Sunmi. I mean...I’m not in love with her.”

Your heart does a backflip. “But I’m a mistake.”

Jimin lets out a heavy sigh, shakes his head softly, looking into your eyes.

“Jimin,” you whisper, and then he kisses you and you forgot what you were going to say.

There’s two weeks until the performance and you spend all of those days irrevocably in love with Park Jimin.

“Why do you stay?” You ask him one night while you’re lying with your head on his chest after he’d bent you over the arm of the recliner in his room, rough, and you love it but you  know he’s angry because they wouldn’t let him change the choreography of the final dance, wouldn’t let him do anything but teach old ladies the foxtrot.

He’s been stroking his fingers along your spine and you wonder if that was a stupid question when he freezes just for a moment.

“It’s not like it’s easy, Baby,” he says, simply.

“It should be,” you insist, and you press a kiss between his pecs, knowing it isn’t something you can understand.

You know you’re privileged, know that your father would flip his lid if he knew you were getting  fucked by the dance instructor four nights a week and most days too, because your father didn’t think he could provide for you. You’re sure that if he found out, your father would disown you and you’d lose your tuition money and your apartment back home.

So when you and Jimin are walking back to the resort from the studio, holding hands and laughing and you catch sight of your father in a golf cart, you gasp, tug Jimin’s hand to hide behind a nearby building.

Jimin lets you lead him there, doesn’t protest, but his face is like stone when your father passes and you can relax.

“Jimin-” you start.

“Tell me again how it should be easy, Baby,” he says, his voice like ice, and when you try to take his hand he pulls away. 

You make up, eventually, it only takes a day before Jimin gives in to your apologies, the kisses you plant along his shoulders while he’s trying to stretch before practice, but in the end, he’s right.

It’s not easy at all.

just a fool to believe

Jimin knew this thing with you wouldn’t last forever. In fact, he’d been preparing for the performance to be the last night, the last time he’d see you look at him like that. He starts to dread it, starts to stay awake later at night to watch you sleep so that he’d have more memories of your face pressed against his pillow.

He’s always known you’ll leave him, whether it’s in the middle of the night because you realize you can’t let your father find out, after the performance when you’ve done what you’ve said you would, or at the end of the summer, when you’d return home to your college and your friends. Hell, maybe even a boyfriend. He tried not to entertain that, it made his throat feel tight to wonder if you have some Ivy League jerk with a letter jacket waiting for you, but it’s crossed his mind.

He knows he’s not good enough for you, knows that if his own bosses can’t even use his real name to introduce him he’ll never have someone like you, not long term, anyway. He’s used to being someone’s dirty little secret, with this job.

He’s always thought that you’d leave him, but in the end he has to leave you.

You’re full of nerves, counting down the days to the performance, and it’s only three days away when Sunmi comes up to you, sweating on her crutches, and your eyes widen. She’d barely left her room, knows that if the supervisors find out it’s her foot instead of an illness like your father had told them, she’ll be cut from the team.

“Sumni, what-”

“Jimin’s gone,” she bursts out.

“No. No he’s not gone,” you say confidently, but you can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

Sunmi is near tears and she nods her head sadly. “He’s gone, they fucking fired him!” Her voice breaks and you put out a hand to steady her. It feels like you’re moving underwater.

“He wouldn’t leave without...without telling me,” you say, less confident with every word.

Why wouldn’t he? Why would he come to you, a summer fling, someone he doesn’t even know that well?

Because he loves me, you think. But does he? He hasn’t said it. He hasn’t made you any promises.

“What about the performance?” You ask, feeling like you’re floating farther away from her as you speak.

“They replaced him,” she chokes out, crying openly now, and you hug her, comfort her so that you don’t break down yourself.

You find out from Bambam why, and it’s all your fault. Apparently one of Jimin’s so called students had caught you and Jimin in the studio, seen you through the window and in a bout of jealousy reported him for “cavorting with a guest.” It was against the resort’s rules, even though Bambam says all of them had done it, at least once and usually more.

It doesn’t matter. Jimin had been caught and he’d lost his job and probably his tuition and it was all your fault. You’re like a zombie the last three days, your mother asks if you’re okay and your father keeps ignoring you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You can’t care about anything. You don’t have any idea where he lives, you can’t even write to him, and you lie in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about how he joked that your mouth must taste like the silver spoon you were born with and how it used to make you laugh.

The night of the performance, your mother demands that you go, dresses you in this stupid pink dress you’ve never liked and rolls your hair, and you’re picking at your food when they announce that the performance is about to start. You’re sitting in the corner, against the wall, hanging your head.

Tears are welling in your eyes as you hear the familiar opening bars, but then there’s a loud feedback sound as someone kills the microphone and you look up, startled.

Jimin is standing at your family’s table, wearing a white tshirt and jeans, a leather jacket, similar to the outfit you’d first seen him in, and you wonder for a moment if you’re dreaming.

Then he says your name. Your real name, not Baby, not sweetheart, and you blink up at him, shocked.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he says with a smirk, and takes your hand to pull you up.

this could be love

You don’t leave him after the final dance, like he’d thought, but he was right that it wasn’t easy. Nothing worth it ever was, he supposes. You run away with him, live in his tiny college dorm on his twin bed, and he still doesn’t think he deserves you. 

You still apologize for getting him fired from that shitty job and he still cops an attitude and tells you that you’re spoiled sometimes but it ends in hot and hungry kisses or an impromptu dance session around his record player.

It isn’t easy but he wants it, and so do you, and he hopes that in the end, that’s all you need.

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