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brooooswriting · 2 months

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hi!I was thinking of leighton xreader. leighton discovers she's a sub when r calls her baby girl and she just melts. she's insecure about it

Baby girl

Leighton wasn’t really used to being called pet names. Alicia wasn’t a fan of them, or at least she assumed that as the girl never called her any, and the dudes she “dated” before her weren’t the type to do so.

But you? You were differently, you loved using them and would do it every time you could. It started with normal ones like ‘love’ or ‘darling’, then over time it became something like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’ until the party.

Leighton, her roommates and you were at another frat party when you got separated as you and Bela volunteered to get drinks for everybody. “Damn, that’s a long as cue” the girl complained as you approached the bar and she was right. Normally there were about two to five people at the bar but right now there were about 15. You sighed before starting some small talk with the people around you. Once it was finally your turn you ordered and then quickly scurried off to find your group.

You arrived just in time to see your girlfriend insult a guy to make him back off. It was obvious that she could handle herself and you were 99% sure that he didn’t touch her as Leighton was very keen on campus and somebody would have something. Still, you hurried over to her, staying behind her in case she needed help. When she was done telling him off and he disappeared you made your presence known to her. One hand was on her waist while the other one was on her face as you examined her to make sure she was alright. “Are you okay baby girl?” You asked, watching the changes in her face.

She looked at you for a moment before pulling away from you while nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go drink” she quickly turned away so you weren’t able to see the blush that took over her face. You were confused but followed her nonetheless. You drank, you danced, you chatted but the whole time Leighton avoided eye contact with you which was weird. After a couple of hours you and the blonde were dancing together closely, her back against your front with your hands on her waist. She was wearing that black dress that you loved, which may have been on purpose.

“You look really hot in that dress baby girl” you were a little tipsy and that nickname just kept flowing out, it fit her and you liked it for her. Her body shuddered under your hands and she leaned further into you, a small smirk on your lips. You had a theory and you wanted to test it.

Leighton felt her body heat up when you repeated that name. She’s always been this tall, confident blonde woman that people just assumed was a top, so she also always assumed it. But now with you, towering over her, calling her names like that she couldn’t help but rethink about it. “We should get out of here” she decided, turning around to wrap her arms around your shoulder. You gave her a nod before intertwining your hands to pull her to your dorm.

That night was the first night Leighton let go of herself, she let you take care of her in a way you always wanted. That night your bodies melted into each other, a new connection forming between the two of you. And secretly in a way she also always wanted, there wasn’t one thought in her beautiful mind except for you. Until the next morning.

You woke up with a happy smile on your face as you couldn’t wait to look to your right and see the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen but instead you were met with nothing. Cold sheets and a cold pillow. Your heart sank at the realization that she left after the night you’ve spend together. Sitting up against the headboard you checked for phone, hoping that she had to leave due to something and left you a message but again your heart sank. No text or call. Last night was the first time you felt like the blonde let go of herself, like she trusted you with all her life to take care of her.

While you sat in your bed with a heavy heart Leighton laid in hers with a heavy heart and a full mind. Yesterday’s events constantly replaying in her head but with each replay her heart got heavier and heavier at the realization that she could still lay in your arms, now just waking up. She hated herself for being so insecure about how she let you take care of her, you seemed to enjoy it too, so why leave? The question came up every time her flashback arrived at her tiptoeing out of your room. She couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t be happy with yesterday.

Meanwhile you couldn’t figure out what you had done wrong. Leighton wasn’t answering her phone, no matter how many times you called. After nearly the whole day went by you decided that you guys had to talk about it. If there was anything, literally anything, you had done wrong you wanted to know so you could fix it. You’d do everything to make it up to her. “Hi Kimberly, is Leighton here?” You asked the brunette with a small smile when she opened the door.

“Hi, yeah. I think she’s still in her room. I haven’t really seen her today, she wasn’t in the mood to talk” she answered, stepping aside to let you in. You nodded along as you made your way towards the blondes door.

“Ok, I’ll try and talk to her. Thank you” she gave you a nod and a smile before disappearing into her own room. You waited until her door closed before your knuckles came into contact with the wood. “Leighton? Can we talk?” You asked carefully as you opened the door a small bit so she could hear you better.

“Y/n?” She said surprised, you took that as a sign to come in. You quickly closed the door behind you again, leaning against it to get some kind of support. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was small, a bare whisper leaving her lips in the dark room.

“Well, you left without saying anything and I wanted to see how you’re doing and if I did anything wrong? Because if I did, I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to force you into anything” you explained, not leaving your spot against the door. Leighton was happy about the darkness, your voice portrayed your feelings very clearly and she couldn’t imagine how you were looking right now.

“You didn’t do anything” while her voice was small you could hear that she was genuine. With a bit more confidence you moved towards her bed, sitting at her side on top of her blanket.

“Can I ask why you left then? And didn’t answer my texts? I thought something happened to you” your hand rested on one of her knees, carefully stroking her leg over the covers. You could practically feel her hesitating. “Baby girl?” You urged a bit. You knew the girl better than anyone by now and you knew the longer she was in her head the worse her thoughts got.

Her face turned red again at the nickname and she quickly looked away, trying to hide it just like yesterday. But this time her confidence build back up faster than before, she looked up at you to see you admiring her. Her mind was running miles, she couldn’t decide is she should tell you the truth or just make something up hoping that you’d believe it. But the hope and concern in your eyes as you looked down at her stopped her mind. “I am not used to this” she started, unsure of how to tell you that she was just insecure. That she leaving you in the middle of the night was just due to some stupid anxious thoughts.

Her anxious behavior was radiating off of her so bad that you could practically feel it. You nudged her a bit so she’d scutch over making room for you to lay next to her. You didn’t want to stare at her so you just laid on your back and held her hand in yours. “I’ve never let myself go like this, I’ve always been the dominant one… but with you yesterday, it was so easy, so normal. It just felt right to give control to you and that scares me” she explained, messing with your fingers. You smiled lightly at her, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“And that is completely okay. If you didn’t feel comfortable with it we don’t have to do it again. But if you’re just scared because it hasn’t been like this before it’s okay. We can do take it slow, talk about it, we can do whatever you want to make you feel comfortable with it” you told her, finally facing her to give her a comforting smile. She turned her head towards you too and gave you a small nod.

“I do want it to be like that but I think it’s just that… everybody always expected me to be the strong and dominant one. I never had the opportunity to let go and now I don’t know how to deal with it” you nodded along as she explained her worries, her brows furrowing as she kept getting in her head. As she got deeper and deeper into her thoughts you reached up and brushed your thumb over her furrowed skin.

“Well, with me you can be whatever you want as long as you’re mine” you grinned, knowing that the cheesy line would lighten the mood. She loved watching romcoms with you to make jokes about the cheesiness and since you first did it you used every opportunity to be cheesy.

“You’re an idiot” she laughed as she turned on her side, one hand stroking over your stomach while yours placed itself on her waist. “But you know what, maybe we can practice me letting go now” she leaned over and pressed several kisses to your lips. You ushered her onto your lap, her thighs around you with her hands on your neck while yours grabbed at her hips.

“Whatever you want baby girl” you rasped out, by now knowing that the nickname did something to her. As soon as the nickname left your mouth, she whined and ground her hips down. You chuckled at her neediness before starting to leave marks on your neck.

The next morning you woke up with Leighton in your arms, her back pressed against your front as she held the hand that was over her waist. You smiled and pressed some kisses to her shoulder to lightly wake her up adding a “good morning baby girl”. You immediately heard a whine and felt how she turned in your arms with a smile.

“If you ever wanna leave this bed again you have to stop with that nickname” she said, quickly looking over to see that Bela wasn’t there. Her smile turning into a smirk.

You’d happily stay in that bed forever.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

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amaranthineghost · 2 months

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I'LL LET YOU GO IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT ( lando norris. )

lando norris x reader

a little over half a year later when the season ended, they haven't found their way back. At least not on purpose, but the universe knows better than them

authors note: I was thinking of making a happy ending, but not everything always ends up that way </3 after this, I'll work on two max imagines and then I'll see what I can do while I'm on spring break

part 1 found here

IT’S BEEN EIGHT MONTHS since she last spoke to him.

two hundred forty-three days since she last saw that sad look on his face in the rear-view mirror as she drove away from the past she half-wished was her future.

five thousand eight hundred thirty-two hours since she last felt his touch, his arms consoling and unwilling to let her go and yet she still left.

three hundred forty-nine thousand, nine hundred and twenty seconds since the peak of his performance at the beginning of the season. now she watched as he tried and failed to be what he once was. maybe not a winner, or a champion, but he’d had her, which was practically equal.

but now he had lost her.

now she watched as the season came to an end. poor performance after poor performance after poor performance where not all races ended in crossing the finish line.

she never stopped watching, yet she could never reach out, and neither would he. he was always going to be ready to accept her back into his life, yet he knew she needed time.

but she didn't know if she could do it again, though at the same time she kept eyeing his life in envy because part of her wished she could live the way he could without being bothered by the media. part of her was jealous he could live his entire life in front of a camera and be so nonchalant about it.

scrolling through his socials, they still followed each other and it caught people's attention. she read through countless tweets, theories and rumors of their relationship still carrying on behind the cameras, and though she partly wished it to be true, she hated that it wasn't. the fans still wished, and she would too.

the random appearances in the paddock had come to an end, unfortunate for the fans who loved whenever she’d show up in support of her boyfriend, turned ex.

because now all she did was stay within the confines of her apartment building, shielded from the possibility of running into lando. she couldn’t handle bumping into him when she still felt as fragile as glass. she felt like she would shatter if she saw him again, no matter how much she wanted him back.

but living in monaco means you're bound to run into someone from his circle of life.

it felt bittersweet because she wanted him back so badly, to have him hold her in his arms and tell her they’d make it work. but it’d never happened, and truthfully, she hoped it never would. because she knew that if she saw him, she wouldn’t go running back into his arms as if making it work again was the easiest option. because really, if she saw him, she would run, not towards him but away, and she dreaded the fact that he would let her.

he’d watch the love of his life run from him rather than to him and be totally fine with it. because he knew that when the time was right, she would find him again, or he would find her, and only then she wouldn’t run from him.

but he feared for the day that he would realize that she was never coming back to him. he feared for the day where he would realize he shouldn't have let her go.

and he hopes for the day, though it may never come, where she does find the right time to come back to him. he prays for the day where he would make the right choice he should've made the first time.

because in the infinite universes that are said to exist, even if she never returns in nearly every one, he hopes to live the one where she would.

but he knows that if there's a universe where she comes back, even after his idiocy of letting her go to begin with, there's also one where this could've been avoided all together. a universe where he didn't have to watch her pack her bags while shuddering with sobs.

a universe where he wouldn't have to go without her for eight months, where his performance improved when she attended grand prixs.

the one he'd rather live with her than without.

it was unsure when they would ever see each other again. they'd gone this long without seeing the other, who's to say they ever would?

it was chilly in the streets of monaco, contrast to the usually warm, sunny climate the area was known for. she wore a thick coat while she walked down the sidewalk, past the seasonal market with nothing more than her phone, wallet and tote bag.

she needed to get out, to think. she couldn't stand being trapped in the box of her apartment surrounded by nothing but reminders of him. not that it was a bad thing.

she couldn't take another second overanalyzing the helmet he had left for her. she knew it was part of his plan to have her back. to make her want more helmets dedicated to her, which he continued to do despite her not being with him. she'd be lying if she said his plan was failing.

the hoodie, probably tied into the same plan, covered in his damn cologne he knew she couldn't get enough of. it had faded over time, becoming replaced with the smell of her instead. she didn't know what to think of it.

she considered purchasing that same cologne again, drowning the fabric in its fragrance. it wouldn't be the same.

she felt like she could breathe easier with the winter air rather than the stale air of her apartment. sure, she could've stepped onto the balcony, but it was always nice to find a way out of her apartment complex.

hands stuffed in her pockets, she wandered around aimlessly at the shops that lined the streets and stalls set up to buy from.

riddled with things that caught her eye, she couldn't help but stop at nearly every stall. it took an incredible amount of self control to not buy everything she wanted. she didn't have lando by her side to buy everything.

this was her life now. she had a job that she could do from home and it paid her rent. it was enough to live off of while she completed her last years of school before she started a career for herself. tiny little trinkets seemed good in the moment, but she knew long-term that it’d eventually hurt her financially, and besides she didn’t have that much space in her apartment.

she didn’t know how much time had passed. everything was a blur as she mindlessly walked on. she hadn’t noticed when she bumped her shoulder into somebody’s chest, and she had immediately begun to apologize.

“i’m so sorry, i wasn’t looking where i was—lando?” she recognized the curly-haired guy in front of her as she stood there frozen.

“hey, long time no see,” he spoke slowly and warily, looking her up and down at the changes of her appearances that occurred over the last eight months.

“uh—what are you doing here?” she questioned, stuttering over her words just slightly as she looked at him tensely.

lando looked around with a brow raised, hands in his pockets while he answered, “uh, i live here?”

she nodded, “right.”

the air was awkward as they stood in a tense silence. people ushered around them, occasionally bumping into them. they hadn’t known what to say to each other because they weren’t expecting this impromptu meeting.

“how’ve you been?” he broke the silence.

she nodded again, “fine, and you? i saw that your season wasn’t too good.”

he grimaced softly at her words, “yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “just some technical issues.”

“right.”

the silence was back and more deafening than the first time, standing awkwardly looking at each other didn’t help.

again, he was the one to break it, “could i buy you a drink?”

“isn’t it a bit early for alcohol?” she questioned, looking at the brightness of the sky before her gaze settled back down at him with a weird look.

he scoffed, “i mean the coffee shop down the street,” his voice was a half chuckle as he began walking, leaving her to follow.

“well, you’re unpredictable these days,” she fell into step with him as they walked side by side in silence.

it took all of two minutes for them to arrive at the coffee shop lando had mentioned. they could smell the aroma from a ways away, the door left open to let in the cool breeze.

the shop was warm and cozy, most tables were occupied except for a few scattered around. she reached for her wallet to buy herself a coffee, but he quickly shut it down.

“it's my treat,” was all he said before he walked up to the counter with his card in hand to order as she took the two seater by the window, setting her bag down on the ground. she watched the world from where she sat, the people walking by.

groups of friends, pairs that weren’t quite at the stage of being a couple, or the single person walking by every so often. all without crossing paths. it seemed crazy to her how so much could change because of a stranger on the street.

looking back to where lando stood ordering, she wondered what her life would’ve been if they hadn’t met. they wouldn’t have traveled the world, stayed out late on rooftops, or partied in clubs despite her hesitancy. he wouldn’t have dedicated nearly his whole career to her because she was forever a piece of him.

she realized how much she had meant when she saw just how much of her he still kept. he wore shirts with printed pink bows, the one gold bracelet he wore among the silver and fan bracelets given to him by her and he never took it off. the way he styled his hair in the way she taught him, the matching rings they still wore, the references of her personality on his helmet for every race rather than a specific track, her name on his car.

her name on his car.

her name printed in pretty cursive across the top of his steering wheel and the halo for him to see.

he still managed to include her in his life despite her absence because he considered her his lucky charm. having reminders of her anywhere he could would always manage to boost his spirits, but only her presence would boost his performance.

the chair across from her pulled out with an uncomfortable scrape of the legs against the floor. she grimaced slightly, but it quickly disappeared when she refocused on the hand that slid a mug filled with hot coffee to her.

clearly they were going to be here a while, judging from the mug and not a to-go cup. she watched the steam swirl into the air as she softly blew on it while lando sat across from her with his beverage of choice. she also noticed the chocolate-chip cookie in a paper bag he held.

he remembered her love of sweets. she took a sip of her coffee. he remembered her order to the finest detail. he still remembered.

“thanks,” she spoke quietly before taking another small sip of the hot beverage. it slightly burned her tongue and throat as she drank, but she didn’t care to notice.

she was sitting across from lando norris, the one person she had been hoping to avoid this whole time, and now she’s sat with him at a coffee shop they used to frequent when they were dating.

“you’re welcome,” he muttered, his saddened eyes unmoving from her face, watching every expression of hers unfold. “so, how have you been?”

“you’ve already asked that,” she stated simply.

“i mean,” he started, leaning forward with his arms crossed against the table, “how have you really been? i don’t believe for a second that you’ve been fine when i‘m barely holdin’ it together.”

she sighed, taking another sip and grimacing at the burn, “it’s been difficult, but i know it was for the best that we broke up.”

he nodded in response, his fingers circling the rim of his mug as he stared into it.

she spoke up again, saying the words he dreaded to hear, “and i think it should stay that way.”

his shoulders visibly dropped and he bit his cheek before he looked back at her with colorless eyes, “but—” he began when she hastily cut him off.

“i need you to let me go,” her voice cracked as she spoke and tears filled her eyes as she avoided his gaze, “you have to let me let you go, lan.”

“please, don’t make me do this,” he begged, leaning forward again with a look that could make her change her mind in a second.

“please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” she shook her head as the tears began to fall, “in another universe, it might’ve been me and you, maybe the circumstances would've been in our favor, but not in this one.”

“it’s just right person, wrong life.”

“i’ll find you in our next lifetime then,” he promises, his eyes brimming with tears. he tried his best to hold back, for her, “i promise.” he tried to remain strong, for her.

“I know you will.” she said simply, smiling through her tears as she pursed her lips, sniffling as she played with her fingers. “y’know, i'll always be your number one supporter, lan. i'll still cheer for you, just from behind a screen. in that other life, i would come to your races.”

“but even in this one, i'll still celebrate your first win, your first championship. i'll vote you for driver of the day, even if you’re dead last.”

he chuckled sadly at the last part, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile, “how will i know for sure you didn’t get bored of watching me race?” his hand reached across the table, his tan slightly faded and his rings cold.

she rolled her eyes softly, “you’ll know. i promise.” she laid her hand on his, the last somewhat intimate touch they’ll ever have with each other because after he watched her stand, pocketing the cookie he bought. he watched her through the window as she walked into the crowd as if their paths never met.

he watched with tears in his eyes, silently crying as he watched the love of his other life turn her back on him forever. he let her.

because if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was letting her go.

part of her wanted him to chase after her, wipe her mascara-stained tears just like that regretful day in their old apartment because part of her still wanted him in her life. she wished she could still go back sometimes.

he wished she would just come back. he wanted to experience life with her, he wanted to win with her, be a champion with her.

but he lived in the wrong universe, and he was unsure if he'd ever see her in this life again, in the way he wanted. they would bump shoulders on the street, looking longingly for just a second as they ushered by in a hurry. not looking back, but never forgetting how much they had meant to each other for the time they were together.

how crossing paths, even for what seemed like the shortest time to them, changed the trajectory of their lives forever. they would subconsciously look for qualities of each other in the people they moved onto. telling stories to their kids and grandkids about the other in regretful tones because they wished it was the kids they had together that they could tell the story of their relationship to.

because now they were just strangers, she was just a name he would forever keep on his car, and he was just an old lover turned stranger she would send flowers to after every podium and win until he would retire.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @leclercdream

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

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invisiblestringmm · 19 days

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chapter five

“tell me everything about her.”

a/n: not much to say other than a massive thank you for the support and that I hope you love this chapter as much as I do! 🤍

warnings: slight angst, anxiety attack, language & lots of fluff.

5.638k words

Telling your parents about Lily’s dad being back into your life was harder than you believed it’d be - there were no judgements, of course, but they asked so many questions that you were convinced that the night would never end. It was five years of questions they kept to themselves, but you didn’t have much to say at the moment. You still had to meet Mason and tell him first, which in your opinion, would be the toughest part of it all alongside telling Lily.

Mason Mount.

Your dad’s jaw dropped when he heard the name and he seriously contemplated it to be a prank, but he let go of that theory because Lily definitely looked like Mason. “Except for the nose,” he said. When you left for bed, before shutting the door to your room, you heard your dad mumbling to himself how unbelievable that was as he drank down his scotch - you cringed at the thought of how embarrassing introducing Mason to your dad would be, considering that he was a massive football fan and that Mason played for Chelsea when the old man was wild about Arsenal.

Of course hoping for a quiet night was too much to ask, but you never thought it’d be like that. Still trying to process Mason’s appearance in your dreams, you felt like staring at the ceiling was a lot more interesting than getting out of bed to confront the day like an adult - staying in bed felt a lot more appealing. Hoping no one would come for you, hoping today wasn’t the day yours and your daughter’s life would fully change felt better than anything else you had to do today. Instead of thinking what you’d say to Mason, you decided you’d let it all out as naturally as possible. Concentrate on Lily, on how special she was, on how his life would be extraordinary with her in it because Lily was pure joy in human form.

Concentrate on apologising.

Two soft knocks on your door and that pair of hazel glistening eyes glancing at you with curiosity brought you back from your thoughts. Lily pushed the door with her foot, concentrating on not letting the liquid content in the cup she carefully held spill on her grandma’s carpet. “Good morning mummy,” the way she looked at you, spoke to you, walked to you made your chest clench. Lily was so precious and had no idea that the night before, her daddy watched her dance. She had no idea you’d see him today and tell him about her and how extraordinary she is. “I brought you peppermint tea.”

“Of course you did,” you murmured, sweetness in your voice as you got out of bed and took the cup from her tiny hands and put it on the bedside, placing a kiss on her fingers as you also took her in your arms and went back to bed. “Thank you so much, my love.”

With tiny arms wrapped around your neck, Lily smooched both of your cheeks. “Why can’t you come with us today, mummy?” she pouted, hoping to persuade you to join her at Foxwoods before you had planned.

“Mummy needs to do some adult stuff but I’ll be there before you notice,” you kissed the tip of her nose, hands cupping her face as your thumbs caressed the delicate skin of her cheeks. “But you’ll be a good girl and behave, won’t you?” Lily giggled and nodded, knowing what you implied by it. Christmas was the time of the year that your mum valued the most, so she was everywhere and making sure everything would be absolutely flawless - which meant her Latina nature became a lot more evident than usual and the only person who’d calm her down and bring a smile to her face was Lily.

You two spent a few more moments like that, cuddling in bed, as you updated yourself on the day’s news and sipped the peppermint tea she kindly brought you. The final moments of life being just the two of you against the world, which instantly took you to the day you were still pregnant and felt her moving inside you for the first time - the overwhelming joy and fear of not being a good mum to the child that was growing so strong inside you, it all vanished when you first held Lily in your arms and fed her your milk. That had to be the most magical experience and memory you had of learning to love your daughter.

In the end, motherhood was continually learning. About how to raise her properly so she’d be a decent adult, about how to adore everything about that other human, to be there whenever she needed and for whatever she needed because she was your priority.

As you finished doing her hair, you could only hope that it’d be the same for Mason once he learned to love her too. That’d he have the same level of interest, because this wasn’t about you ending up disappointed anymore - it was about Lily and her anticipations.

Truth is you got a little emotional watching her go with your parents without looking back, you knew you were doing it right every time that happened because it meant that while she still loved you like crazy, your daughter was also independent. It’d be good for her when it was actually time to leave home, but you tried not to focus too much on it. Back to reality, you got two missing calls from Willow, probably wanting to know what were the plans, when you realised that you also had no idea how today’s events would unfold, so you decided to text Mason.

Of course, he lived in the area, it definitely worked well for him since Chelsea’s training ground was in Cobham - what made your brain nearly explode was to see where you two were going when he sent you the location. That was the same café your mum would spend most of her afternoons at, so they probably bumped into each other at some point without knowing that there was a little human that linked them to each other. It only proved once again your whole point about how the wealthy were pretty much all linked by someone they had in common. But the nicest thing about your mum is that she couldn’t care less about the world you grew up in, probably the reason why you were so down to earth - while your dad tripled his fortune working for England’s most wealthy as a lawyer.

Only to add to your tension, you were now on FaceTime with both Willow and Jasmine, freaking out again about what to wear to see Mason in two hours. Your hair and makeup were done, and you had Jaz making fun of you for giving such importance to what you’d wear as if you were going on a date.

“You two just don’t get it,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “The last time we spent more than 30 minutes together was five years ago and I was a drunk, young mess. Then I was a pregnant mess again, months later, by his door. I was throwing up like, ten times a day!”

Now, you were a mum, and you couldn’t look like a mess if you were going to tell him that you were a mum to his daughter. You had to look fairly decent, and no one would change your mind about that - especially when you took your phone and walked into your mum’s closet for a pair of one of her golden hoop earrings and a watch. Luckily, she didn’t mind sharing.

“Oh my,” you heard Jaz gasping. “Is that a Birkin behind you?”

“Yeah, my dad spoils my mum with bags whenever he needs to persuade her of something,” you chuckled. “Which is quite a lot.”

“Sadly, you don’t have a brother to marry me,” Willow said, pouting. “Give Jaz a tour through your mum’s closet.” Jasmine didn’t notice, but you did - the teasing in your best friend’s voice because you’ve both talked about it before and knew that at some point you’d have fingers pointed at you declaring that it was for the money. That you were a clout chaser, getting pregnant by a young millionaire footballer when you were wealthier. It’d take a few hate messages before they associated your last name to its fame.

After a quick tour and a jaw-dropped Jasmine, still stunned by your mother’s collection of handbags, jewellery, and shoes, you said your goodbyes, blew the girls a kiss, and began to dress up. Informal and basic, but still classy. You definitely had the mum vibe in those jeans, but you also looked your age - most of the time, fully taken by the obligations of maternity, you’d overlook how young you still were and how little time you had to act like someone your age. Clubs weren’t something that often happened in your routine, even if you loved going out to dance. You’d go to bars with work colleagues, and old friends from school, but their lives were so much different from yours. Most of the time you felt distant even from Willow, who although was your best friend, wasn’t a mum.

By the time you were ready to leave the house after snapping a mirror selfie and sending it to Willow, Mason texted you saying he’d be there in 20 minutes and you decided to walk there instead of driving. You wouldn’t be able to focus and fresh air would come in handy, and the café wasn’t distant from your parents’ house.

During the short walk there, your phone buzzed with texts from your dad and Jaz.

Well, if things went bad with Mason, at least your support system was still one of the greatest you’ve ever seen. Letting out a long sigh, you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders when you spotted the cafe right across the street. The only good thing you could think about it now was that it seemed really intimate, not busy at all, that’s probably why he decided on this place.

When you stepped in, you were received by the soothing aroma of coffee and chocolate. It comforted you down but only for a few seconds when your eyes met Mason’s figure - his eyebrows slightly frowned, like he was focused on something that was going on only in his mind, and biting his nails. You stood there, astounded by the fact you’ve seen that same facial expression on your daughter countless times before, until his eyes found yours and the frown gave place to a wide smile and happy eyes.

There was no way you wouldn’t smile back at him, it was contagious.

It took you some courage to make your way to him, and your tension only boosted when Mason greeted you with a hug, his hand ran up and down your back as he breathed in your perfume and, unconsciously, you did the same. But his happiness in seeing you wouldn’t last much longer. You planned to be as sharp as possible instead of dragging the weight of that secret for the rest of the afternoon because that was the reason why you went there in the first place.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, pulling the chair for you and sitting in front of you right after.

“Chamomile tea, please.”

“Are you nervous?” there was a mischievous smile playing on the corners of his lips, making you shift uncomfortably on the chair. You don’t know why, but you just nodded and got a chuckle as a reply. The whole thing was absolute madness and torture. You could feel that pair of hazel eyes studying you with so much interest, Mason’s entire body language was incredibly easy to read because you could see Lily there, in everything that he did and even in his breathing. ‘Except for the nose,’ like your father said. Except for the nose, Lily was exactly like her father. “Well, I’m a bit nervous too.”

The waiter brought chamomile tea for you, and peppermint for him. You couldn’t hold back a soft smile when this morning’s memories flooded your mind, and as you drank down your tea, you felt like having Lily on your mind would make this easier. Her eyes, the soft pinkish flush on her cheeks, her laugh… Slowly, you felt your hands steadier, your breathing calmer. The priority had to be your daughter and everything she meant for you, all these years where it was just the two of you would be over and her biggest dream would come true.

“Mason, I-”

“Let me begin,” Mason moved his cup aside and now it was him shifting on the chair, clearly uncomfortable and making an effort to find the correct words to say. A sigh parted his lips as he rubbed his eyes. “I’ve been feeling embarrassed for years now, for the way I treated you when you showed up at my door. I wasn’t prepared for a relationship and I didn’t know what to do, nor how to.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A relationship?”

“The way you kept calling, texting… it overwhelmed me a bit,”

“Wait. You assumed I went there to tell you I was in love with you or something?” you raised your voice a little, immediately regretting it when the waiter side-eyed you.

“Weren’t you?”

“I think that stick was a bit too far up your arse,” you muttered, suddenly feeling confident enough to straighten your posture and calmly drink down your tea again. You observed his jaw drop and Mason’s cheeks were so red you could swear he felt them burning.

“Anyway,” he coughed. “I am sorry, deeply and truly. I tried to find you the next day, but I had no idea where you lived and you blocked my number.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Mason. There is a reason why I went to your place, an extremely significant one. A reason that changed my whole life and it would’ve changed yours too if you hadn’t been a complete idiot,” a frustrated sigh parted your lips and it didn’t take long for your eyes to burn with tears. “But in the end, I also need to apologise because I should’ve insisted, and I truly hope you can forgive me someday…”

“What do you mean, Y/n?” His voice was soft yet tinged with a mix of urgency, curiosity, and apprehension.

As you sat across each other, the aroma of peppermint and chamomile mingling in the air, you took a deep breath, heart pounding against your chest. This was it, this was the moment. “There’s something I need to tell you,” you started, voice barely above a whisper, which was making Mason feel as tense as he’d ever been. You could see concern etched on his face. “That night changed everything I thought I knew,” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts. “I went to your house to tell you I was pregnant. We have a daughter.”

The words hung heavy between you, the silence only broken by Mason’s gasp. He stared at you, his eyes wide in shock, the natural flush on his cheeks instantly gone as his face went pale. “A-a daughter?” he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice. You nodded, eyes brimming with tears as you watched his reaction. “A daughter,” Mason repeated, his brows together in a frown as he mumbled it again a couple of times.

“I thought about going back there and forcing you to listen, and I know I should’ve,” you swallowed a sob, forcing yourself to push away all the hurt you felt that day and bringing Lily’s face back to your thoughts. Emotions swirling inside you. “But you shoved me off. I instantly felt like I’d face rejection again and it wasn’t about me anymore… it was about… her.” Your voice trailed off.

“I would never,” Mason reached for your hand across the table, his expression softening. “I wish you would’ve insisted.” He said, his tone gentle yet filled with a mix of hurt and, much to your surprise, understanding. You looked down, unable to meet his gaze when his warm hand gently squeezed yours. “Look at me, please.”

When you looked up, you noticed his eyes glistened with tears. Letting go of his hand, you reached for your phone and realised that the easier way to tell him the rest of the truth was opening his sister’s Instagram and showing him a picture of Lily and Summer that he’d seen before and even left a comment. The frown was there again as he took your phone from you, jaw dropping again, Mason blinked repeatedly. His mind raced, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what was unfolding before him. This was his daughter, the child he never knew he had. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown out the cacophony of emotions swirling inside him.

His mind nearly exploded once he finally realised that he met her not long ago and his heart sank as the realisation that he had actually thought how adorable and polite she was, and also extremely thoughtful - it hit him like a ton of bricks. A type of anger he never felt before bubbled up inside him, mingling with hurt and another feeling that was still unknown to him and Mason could not yet describe but was directly tied to that lovely little girl.

Mason’s heart felt heavier by the second as he tried to process the truth - the woman he shared a fleeting connection with kept their daughter hidden from him for years. Confusion blurred his thoughts for a second, he asked himself if his sister knew, and if she did, it only made him feel angrier. Beneath the anger, though, there was indeed a flicker of understanding.

“I couldn’t hide it anymore, and Jaz confronted me after she was in the same room as you and Lil-“

“Lilian Maisie,” he murmured. “You named her after me?”

“She needed you around, somehow.” Your words hung in the air, laden with the weight of missed opportunities and what-ifs.

As he looked deep into your eyes, Mason saw a reflection of his own emotions - uncertainty, regret, but also a glimmer of what could be… hope? Despite the hurt he felt that moment, Mason couldn’t shake the feeling of connection he always felt towards you and he now wondered if it was Lily who tied him to you. Like a force of nature, one he didn’t know existed, always making him think about you and if you were well.

Silence settled over you for longer than you expected, but not once you nor Mason looked away from each other - the weight of revelation started to sink in. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with emotion. “Tell me everything about her.”

Relief washed over you, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded, finally being able to breathe. “Do you think we could go somewhere else, though? Somewhere it could be just us. Maybe your car, I-“ a sob interrupted you but Mason quickly paid for the tea and gripped your hand as you left the café. It was only when you two finally got to his car that you allowed yourself to actually cry, loud sobs making your body shiver. It felt like the weight of the world was no longer on your shoulders.

“Breathe, please,” Mason cupped your face, his thumbs wiping your tears. “Can you breathe with me, Y/n?”

His tone was so gentle you couldn’t believe how well he was treating you when he had to face the fact that you literally hid a child from him for five years. His child. How long would that last, though? How long until things crumbled, once he realised reality and parenthood were not easy to face? That once he accepted this role, his life was no longer his and that everything was about her? Their daughter.

“Better?” He asked, letting go of you when you nodded. Oddly enough, you missed the warmth of his touch. “Think you can tell me more about Lily now?”

Nodding again, you decided to show Mason pictures of her growing up as you shared every little detail about your daughter. How she was the sweetest, and most chubby baby you’ve ever seen; that she was always paying attention to everything and everyone around her, and clapped her chubby hands whenever she liked something. You told Mason that her first word was ‘goal’, and there was a mix of a sob and a giggle parting his lips. You told him that Lily behaved like an adult most of the time, that she loved animals, and that she was always making sure everyone around her was happy.

That her laugh was the sweetest sound in the world, and how her eyes crinkle when she laughed. Just like him.

You told Mason that besides ballet, she also loved football, and you could see pride in his eyes.

You told Mason that she also loved peppermint tea and that it was your thing to share a cup every morning.

Last but not least, you told Mason that he was her biggest dream. That she longed and cried for him almost every night, that her life was nowhere near complete without him in it, and that if he wanted to be in Lily’s life, his life would instantly become better and happier because she loved him more than anything in the world without even knowing who he is. That was the purest form of love he’d have, and the only thing he’d have to give in return was his love.

“I was surprised I didn’t hear from you right after you met her and Willow that day,” you admitted, watching Mason frown again.

“Willow?”

You nodded. “My friend who was with me the night we met.”

“To be honest,” he moved in his seat, cheeks flushed pink. “You were the one who had my attention and I wouldn’t remember her face even if I tried. I think Woody ran into her at some point but-”

“He did?” you interrupted him, not remembering if Willow ever mentioned it to you. Mason just nodded.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“It’s funny, but that day… watching her with Summer, I felt something so weird.” Mason repeatedly and slowly shook his head, a smile playing on his lips, like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. You could hear your heart pounding against your chest, “Like the world’s entire happiness was right there, in front of me. I remember how I went home thinking ‘Oh wow, what a sweet little girl’ and I couldn’t understand why.”

“Oh, Mason…” the familiar knot on your throat was there again and you nearly forced yourself not to cry again. “I’m so sorry, so sorry-” You were interrupted by his arms around you.

Did he really pull you into a hug? Was he really hiding his face in the crook of your neck, crying like a little kid? Were you really comforting him, right hand up and down his back as he sobbed his heart out?

That wasn’t the reaction you expected, and guilt hit so hard that you could feel how your vision instantly blurred and you finally allowed yourself to cry again. You broke his heart, prived your daughter from living the first 5 years of her life with that man who probably would’ve given her his whole world - and also everything and anything else she wanted him to give her. Like his love, affection, and a big family. You took that from both of them, and you couldn’t help feeling like a monster. So the only thing left to do now was to fix this, beg for everyone’s forgiveness, and work forever to repair the damage you’ve caused.

“Does she know about me?” his voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence between you. Mason still had his arms tightly wrapped around your body, which was only making things worse for you because how could he still show any sort of affection when you’ve done something so horrible?

You shook your head. “I wanted to see how you’d react before telling her,” you sighed, feeling completely vulnerable and defeated. “I was expecting lots of screaming, maybe you shoving me off again or something like that and telling me to speak to your lawyers.”

Too close for your sanity, Mason pulled from you just enough so he could look you into your eyes. The way his eyes were so red and puffy broke your heart into a million pieces because it was like seeing Lily crying - even the way he kept his brows in a frown, and slightly pouted. “Let’s save the lawyers for when we have to do the bureaucratic part of her getting my name.”

A nod was all you could give him back as you swallowed hard and your heart skipped a beat. You were far too naive thinking lawyers wouldn’t be brought into this, especially with your father being one of the greatest. You shook your head at the thought of Mason trying to take her from you, and even if you felt extremely guilty, you’d be ready to fight for your daughter no matter what or how much it’d cost you - the sudden pain in your chest and how you now desperately tried to catch your breath made Mason let go of you and cup your face again. You tried to look away, but he made you focus on him because he noticed what the word ‘lawyers’ did to you.

“Breathe with me, yeah?” His voice was calm, there was so much patience in every little gesture he offered you, that it wasn't hard to feel your heart and breathing going back to its normal pace. “I’m not taking Lily from you, ever. I promise.”

“You have every right to but I want yo-,“

“Y/n, don’t.” Mason interrupted you, and for a moment you felt like he could read your mind and soul by how deeply that man looked at you. “I would never, ever do that. She’s ours and we’re gonna find a way to make this work, let’s focus on her now, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay, but we can arrange a DNA test if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Do you have any doubts that she’s mine?”

“Gosh, no! She’s all you, Mason.”

For a moment, you could swear there was a glimpse of pride sparkling in his eyes. Mason took a long and deep breath and, much to your disappointment, let go of you. You watched him run both hands on his face, and stay silent for a few seconds. He was definitely lost in his thoughts, and once again you knew that because that was the same facial expression you’ve seen on Lily’s face multiple times.

“But I think it’ll be necessary, at some point. We can think about it later, let’s just focus on her and make sure she’s safe and-,” Mason stopped talking when he noticed a smile curving the sides of your lips. That’s what, deep down, you hoped for. Him putting her as a priority. “What?”

“You probably didn’t realise yet, but you’re behaving like a dad.”

That was when reality hit him again, like a slap in the face. Mason was a dad, and his life wasn’t just his anymore - there was a little human who loved him unconditionally without even knowing who he was, who waited and cried for him on countless nights, who hoped he’d show up for birthdays and important events such as a ballet recital. Mason was there the night before, watching his daughter without even knowing she was his. It hurt, but it also made him feel oddly happy.

Suddenly, he felt the impulse to wrap his arms around her slight figure and protect her from everything and everyone. Mason couldn’t understand why and how that feeling took power overer him so quickly, but now he understood why he always felt like part of him was missing. Lily was the missing piece.

“I didn’t want to leave you yet,” He started, your heart skipping a beat at his words. “I’d like to tell my family today, so you can do the same and we can set up a day with just the three of us.”

“She’s the only one left to tell now, but yes,” You nodded. “She’ll want to see you as soon as possible, I can already visualise her going wild thinking about what to wear. There’s just one thing…”

“What?”

“She’s not here now, my parents took her to the Cotswolds for Christmas and I’m supposed to meet them there. I can bring her back or you can meet us there…?”

Mason scratched his head, a sheepish smile on his lips. “I wouldn’t want to crash your family’s Christmas.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Unconsciously, you reached for his hand, watching how he instantly intertwined his pinky with yours in what was the most precious and delicate gesture he’s shown. You felt your cheeks burning under his gaze. “You’re her dad, that alone already makes you part of the family.”

Mason’s lips parted in a wide smile at your words, he unhurriedly nodded, his pinky playing with yours. You two shared a giggle and you watched him sigh before saying anything. “I don’t really want to think about the after, my brother having to do damage control because of the media. I want to enjoy this moment to meet her, what she’s like…”

“Yes, and you can come stay with us if you’d like to. There’s lots of space there, even if your family would like to join us,”

“Let me take you home now, and we’ll settle on what to do, yeah?” Mason gently squeezed your hand before letting you go, again, much to your dismay.

It stunned every inch of your heart and soul the way he responded to the news, almost as if deep down he already saw it coming. As you guided him to your parents’ house, your mind was working on how to tell Lily that she was finally meeting her daddy and that he couldn’t wait to see her - finally, she’d get one of the things she wanted the most for Christmas. You couldn’t avoid the feeling that it was all too perfect, though. That, at some point, something bad would happen and you feared for Lily's protection, understanding how exposed she’d be once the media was aware that golden boy Mason Mount is a father to a five-year-old girl who’s been entirely hidden from the limelight. You feared curious eyes and potentially evil words directed at her, to you, to your family. But, right now, it was about allowing Lily to finally have her daddy all to herself.

When Mason pulled over the car, you noticed how his jaw slightly dropped and how he bent his body to take a proper look at the house.

“What? Not what you expected?” You teased, lifting an eyebrow at him and watching how his cheeks immediately got pink. “At least no one can say it was about money, huh?”

“I’d fight whoever said it was,” Mason murmured. “But definitely not what I expected. Is that a fucking Arsenal flag or am I delusional?” You watched Mason’s eyes widen, and a loud laugh filled the car with pure bliss. That was the first moment you allowed yourself to relax and laugh. “Are you a Gunner?”

“Fucking hell, no! My dad is,” A single tear rolled down your cheek, as you recovered from the sudden wave of euphoria that caused you to laugh so hard. “He wasn’t happy to know that a Chelsea player knocked up his daughter.”

“Oh man, this is going to be fun!” Mason punched the air and then helped you with the seatbelt before getting out of the car to open the door for you. You muttered a ‘thank you’, stopping in front of him as you searched for the keys in your bag. “Can you send me pretty much everything you have of Lily? Photos, videos… I’d like to show my parents.”

“Of course, Mason,” With both hands in your coat’s pockets, you scanned him for a few seconds and, finally, gathered some courage to step forward and give his cheek a delicate kiss. “I’ll accept your follow request too, and we’ll sort things out so you can meet her, okay?”

He nodded, cheerfully, like a child having the best Christmas morning in the world. When you were about to turn and head home, he pulled you again and embraced you as tight as he possibly could.

“Do you believe she’ll like me?” Uncertainty was so clear in his voice that you felt your chest clench.

“She loves you, Mason. Lily loves you unconditionally,”

Watching him go was different this time because you knew Mason wasn’t going anywhere ever again. He’d stay, you knew that with your whole being - the thing is that if he was going to be there all the time, you’d have to find again to set boundaries between the two of you or things could end up badly. And it couldn’t, not if it involved Lily’s happiness and well-being.

You’d get along with Mason, and spend time with him so Lily would understand and live life with her parents around, but allowing yourself to have feelings for that insanely gorgeous was out of the question, even if you had no idea how to avoid it when he kept being so touchy and so lovely, much to your frustration.

In the end, it seemed that Mason would become an issue, but to your heart.

****

BONUS:

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount series #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

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hazelsmirrorball · 7 months

Text

Rockstar girlfriend II. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other. Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Heavy makeout session, smoking. English isn’t my main language a/n: Wrote this in class so I hope you gusy enjoy! Plus I’m really grateful on all the love you gave to the last one

part one. part three. part four. part five

Heart throb and Rock sensation, Hazel Callahan from the band ‘The Bottoms’ was caught making out with a C list celebrity.

Every press was good press or at least that was something her manager tried to convince her that being associated with Hazel Callahan was a good thing for her career. She wanted to agree but seeing the picture stare back at her with that damn headline made her go insane. She couldn’t believe it was even possible to be more pissed off at Hazel Callahan, more than she once was. Hazel got praised for the things she did. Rock sensation and Heart Throb and what did Y/n get? C list celebrity? Was this some type of cruel joke? Did Hazel personally know the writer of the article? Was she fucking them? Either way she was on the editors good side and also on the press good side.

The picture had gotten a lot of attention, like a LOT of attention. The publicity stunt had done its job spreading like wildfire. Hazel’s ring covered hands gripping onto her ass while Y/n moaned into the kiss. Hazel white tank tops rose up whilst Y/n’s skirt was almost at her stomach. Both of the girls' hair was a mess and both of them look like they enjoy the kiss.

The picture haunted Y/n’s head, there was evidence that she was melting into her biggest enemy's touch. Everything was a constant reminder of that. Instead of Y/n falling asleep pissed out of her mind because of some random shit Hazel did now she found herself falling asleep flustered. The only thought running through her head was Hazel's hands running all over her body and her sweet kisses. She had heard through other celebrities that Hazel was a good kisser but never would it cross her mind that she was going to test that theory. When Y/n tried writing a song she would find herself unconsciously trying to find words that rhyme with Hazel. If the lingering touch wasn’t enough all Y/n could see was the damn picture of them making out. In very elaborate almost pornographic fan edits, news articles and magazines, t-shirts, everywhere. Even Brittney went to the point of making that picture her wallpaper to mess with her.

Things were different now, not a good different, but different. She still despised Hazel; the only thing that had changed was the kiss between the two and the fact that people now knew that they didn’t hate each other. So their PR team was actually onto something because song streams from both sides were upping by the minute. Gaining followers left to right, both fandoms trying to uncover which song was dedicated for who. Every drama reporter and Late Night show host tried contacting their management team just to get the scoop on what was happening between the two. So management made it their mission to ride that heat of the moment.

That’s how Y/n, Isabel and Brittney found themselves backstage in The Bottoms concert. Management wanted people to link Hazel with Y/n as the “Rock Star girlfriend” so after fighting for her manager for what felt like hours she found herself pushing past people to find Hazel. Her management team wanted fans to see Y/n wearing something that belonged to Hazel, so they would think they were a couple.

Y/n looked at the door in front of her, Hazel name written in her messy writing on a small whiteboard. Her hand reached towards the door handle, slowly opened the door to the dressing room. Y/n instantly scrunched up her nose as the smell of cigarettes overtook her nostrils. She looked around the dark room in front of her furrowing her eyes. The room was filled with half empty beer bottles, pizza boxes, several cigarette budds, dirty shirts and other things she couldn’t even understand what they were. They had only been here for a day, how was it possible for her to make such a mess.

“Aren’t you going to say hi to your favorite girl?” A voice spoke, making Y/n turn towards the couch watching how Hazel inhaled the smoke from her cigarette. Hazel leaned back comfortably onto the leather couch, her leather covered legs spread open as she looked at her with barely open eyes. Y/n’s eyes followed her lips watching how the smoke slowly escaped her lips. She could feel her face turn red cursing herself for feeling like this in front of her.

“Hello.” Y/n barely managed to get out, not knowing what to say. Usually she would bitch out at Hazel with ease. Going off for hours annoyed at the girl, but now she was a flustered mess, imagining those leather pants rubbing against her thighs.

“L/n? You are usually very vocal? Ever since our little work session you don’t know what to say. My hotness finally caught up to you?” Hazel replied, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray next to her, stubbing it out. She sent a smile her way, running her now available ring-covered hands over her pants slowly. Hazel smirked watching how Y/n’s eyes didn’t leave her hands.

“Shut up” Y/n mumbled, gaining her composure glaring down at her, her anger once again showing up. Hazel let out a chuckle not moving from her place looking at Y/n through her long eyelashes. Y/n noticed the hint of a mischievous look in her eyes. What was she thinking about?

“What? Is my little D lister bitch flustered? Remember this is all professional, L/n. If it weren’t for this stupid contract I wouldn’t let you five feet near me. You are lucky that I even touch you.” Hazel replied tauntingly, sending a smirk her way. Her arms stretched against the backrest of the couch. Y/n lips scrunched up as she furrowed her eyebrows pissed off out of her mind. Y/n moved towards Hazel pulling her towards Y/n by the silver chain that adorned her neck.

“Let me tell you something, Callahan. I don’t want this. If it weren't from my damn manager fighting with me to be here, I would be anywhere but here. So don’t get too cocky, like you said this, this is professional. So you can call me an actress, because your touch didn’t do shit” Y/n gripped on her chain harder as Hazel looked up at her fake shook covering her face. Her hands reached up in a defensive manner while her gaze turned in her usually cocky one.

“They don’t call me a master with my hands just because I’m good with the guitar, sweetheart. I know how to differentiate a fake moan from a real one and what you did wasn't fake.” Hazel reached out towards Y/n pushing a string of her hair behind her ear sending a shiver up her spine. Y/n searched for the words to say but she couldn’t find a word in the dictionary to make a comeback. Hazel hands reached towards her waist pushing Y/n down on her lap.

“You look stressed, why don’t you take a smoke?” Hazel continued reaching for the table next to them, handing her the box of cigarettes. Y/n looked down at the cigarettes in her lap and slowly looked up at Hazel taking in every inch of her.

“I don’t smoke” Y/n replied, looking to the side. Hazel took the box of cigarettes in her hand, taking one out and placing it on her lips. She quickly bucked her hips up still holding onto Y/n with one hand to slip out her lighter. Hazel pushed the end of the lighter against Y/n chin making her look at her.

“You are tense, you need to ease down. So help me out, pretty girl” The said while gripping onto the cigarette on her teeth. Hazel handed the lighter to Y/n waiting for her to light it up. Y/n slowly leaned in, turning the lighter on the flame hitting Hazel’s skin making her glow. Y/n looked at Hazel’s closed eyes, the messy smokey liner surrounding her eyes caused a small smile to form on her lips. Hazel slowly gripped on her waist to make her continue. She slowly lights up the cigarette resting her hand on Hazel’s cheek. Turning off the lighter and placing it on the table next to her, not breaking eye contact with Hazel.

Hazel closed her eyes inhaling the smoke for a few seconds keeping the smoke inside her mouth. She removed the cigarette slowly searching for Y/n’s eyes leaning towards, her lips hovering Y/n’s lips. Hazel placed the cigarette down on the ashtray slowly placing her thumb in between Y/n’s lips slowly opening them up. Hazel blew out the smoke on to Y/n’s mouth. Y/n closed her eyes, humming from the sensation. Y/n attached their lips together finding herself in the same predicament as a few days ago. Both girls fighting for dominance not wanting to lose the upper hand.

But before Hazel could even do anything else, Y/n’s had moved her lips from hers and latched onto her neck. Y/n left sloppy kisses on Hazel’s neck, she kisses all over trying to find Hazel’s sweet spot. After a few seconds a soft whimper escaped from Hazel’s lips making Y/n smirk into her neck. She worked on that area whilst Hazel bit her lip in an attempt to cover her moans.

“If you aren’t vocal, I’ll stop sweetheart” Y/n replied imitating Hazel's usual tone , blowing against the freshly done hickey. Hazel glared at her, taking her by the neck and pushing her against the couch pinning her down. Y/n looked up at her pissed out of her mind, while Hazel smirked her chain hanging against her face softly hitting her nose.

“Never forget who’s in charge” She replied, letting go of her neck and moving off her heading towards the door.

“Where are you even going?” Y/n asked looking up from the couch. Hazel chuckled turning towards her.

“I’m going to do a show, so don’t miss me too much” and with that Hazel was gone.

Hazel maybe had won the fight but Y/n was going to win the war. The next morning news articles made Y/n wake up in joy. Headliners making her go insane but this time in a good way.

Y/n L/n, popstar sensation, making it known that her bass playing girlfriend is hers.

...

Thank you for reading!

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#hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan imagine #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos #lesbian #wlw #sapphic

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 25

Part 1 Part 24

“You mean blood draws this thing?” Hopper asks. He’s finally seated at the table, no longer looming over Eddie where he sits, like he’s just picked him up for possession and taken him in for questioning. Again.

“We don’t know,” Barbara says. Nancy chimes in, “it’s just a theory.” All three of them ignore Eddie’s shouted “Yes!” As if he isn’t the only one that’s seen the thing more than once.

Hopper steeples his fingers in front of his nose, looking like he’d rather be almost anywhere else. Eddie can’t blame him. He also wants Hopper to be anywhere else.

“We’ve got a plan,” Nancy says. “To test the theory.”

Hopper sighs, closing his eyes and pinching his brows, the same way he does when he catches Eddie selling pot outside of the high school. Or at the trailer park. Or at parties. “Let’s hear it then.” He doesn’t open his eyes. Nancy starts speaking anyway.

Eddie, having been mostly absent last time, tunes in for the conversation. She wants to jerry rig the house with bear traps. Like they’re in the Looney Tunes and she’s trying to catch the road runner. Hopper doesn’t seem all that impressed. Neither does Wayne.

“No,” Wayne says.

Hopper still hasn’t opened his eyes. Maybe he was so shocked by the slap dash plan that he gave up and went to sleep.

“Excuse me?” Nancy says.

Eddie bristles at her tone, but Wayne doesn’t even twitch. “You’re kids,” he says, like that’s all there is to say.

“But, Steve –”

Joyce jumps up from where she was still huddled with her sons to tower over the table in all her five foot nothing furry to shout, “this is not yours to fix!” It works to shut them all up. “It’s not you kid’s responsibility to save another kid.”

“But, Mom,” Will says.

Eddie wants to echo the sentiment. Wants to beg. Steve saved their lives, and they’d left him. She wants them to just leave him there? Again? “I know, baby. We’ll get him.”

“Anyone called the boy’s parents?” Wayne asks, but it comes out barely as a question. He already knows the answer, even before Hopper scoffs. Everyone at this table does.

“Like anyone even knows what country they’re in,” he replies while Joyce bristles, like the thought of anyone’s child being left like that leaves her seething.

“Enough of that,” she says, waving her ends in a cutting motion in front of her. “How are we going to get that boy back?”

Will stands up and storms out of the room. Eddie’s never seen the kid be anything but polite. Eddie stands to follow the tug at his sternum telling him to keep the kid in his line of sight.

“Will?” Joyce calls, trying to follow as well until Jonathan tugs her back by her arm with a quiet murmur he can’t make out.

The house isn’t large. He can hear the silence reverberating as he follows Will. The best plan they have so far is Nancy’s game of mouse trap. If it means saving Steve, Eddie��s ready to form an alliance with the devil he knows. If it means saving Steve, he’d be willing to do worse.

“I could go back to the lab,” Hopper says, voice barely carrying down the hallway.

Will’s sitting on a bed when Eddie finds him. It’s small with a blue comforter on it, covered in little cartoon planes. There’s a poster of Jaws on the wall, D & D minis on a bookcase. This might be the coolest kid alive.

Eddie takes a seat beside him, the mattress squeaking as he huddles into it.

Will’s hand is dangling between his knees, cradling a walkie talkie. He doesn’t look over at Eddie, just keeps staring at it like it’ll crackle to life at any second.

“Whatcha got there?” Eddie asks quietly as voices raise in the other room. Eddie wonders if this is what it would’ve felt if he’d had a baby brother back when voices were always raised in his house. He wants to scoop this kid up and bolt out the window.

Will barely seems to notice the noise. He’s still just staring down. When he finally drags his eyes up, it seems like it takes effort. “I want to call Mike.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Who is Mike?”

Will’s eyes shift back down. “He’s my Steve.”

Well, Eddie has no idea what that means, but he can glean some things: Mike is important, and Will wants to talk to him. “So, call him.”

Will’s shoulders curl in. He cradles the walkie talkie to his chest like it’s a baby. “He thinks I’m dead.” It comes out of his mouth bitter.

Eddie reaches out, clasps his shoulder gently. “Then, I bet he’d love to hear that you’re not.”

Slow as molasses, Will raises the walkie talkie up to his mouth, holds down a button and speaks. “Mike?” he asks. “Do you copy?”

He decompresses the button. The silence trickles back in as they both now stare at the walkie talkie, waiting for something to happen. “Maybe he didn’t hear yo–” Eddie starts to say, conjuling, when a frantic, prepubescent voice crackles through the little speaker.

“Will?!” A voice asks, overlapped by another saying , “–didn’t say over, Mike!” before the fuzzy sound stops abruptly.

Will waits a second before pushing the button again, and speaking, “I’m here, over.”

“Where are you?” presumably Mike asks. “We’ll come get you!”

Will smiles, eyes brimming. “It’s okay,” he says, voice lighter than Eddie’s ever heard it. “I’m home.”

The silence lasts longer now, until a new voice filters through. “Yeah, yeah, I’m glad you’re back, Will,” attitude dripping even over the static of the line. “Now, the bad men have got us pinned down, you gotta help us.” it says, before tacking on a quick, “over.”

“Bad men?” Eddie asks, looking over at Will, hoping this is some ill-timed inner-circle game.

But Will looks confused. Panicked. “I think we should go get Chief Hopper.” Will says.

Great. Another fucking problem. Eddie regrets ever being dragged back through that goddamn hole in the tree.

Part 26

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #my fic #first part where i was like wow that sucked to write and i hate it but im moving along so i don't get bogged down! lol

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moonjella · 2 years

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MASQUERADE — 00 LINE

pairing || 00 line x fem!reader

synopsis || it's your first halloween at this prestigious school and with it is your first annual halloween masquerade. it's elegance and classiness mixed with the spirits of the young and drunk — a party like no other. but there is one rule : do not remove your mask. easy enough in theory, but in practise you find yourself to be the only prey in a room full of predators.

content || mature, minors do not interact! alcohol consumption. explicit smut — gangbang, unprotected sex, pulling out, cumming inside, cunningulus, fingering, blowjob, doggy style, riding, double penetration (spitroasting), anal play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, petplay, petnames, degradation and praise, dom/sub dynamics.

word count || 6.9k

author's note || for @underworldnet’s halloween event — day eight : costume.

“A bunny?” you scoff. “Really?”

“It was the only thing left in your size.” Shotaro explains. And in all honesty, it looks like the dress is two times smaller than anything you’ve worn before.

“I’m sure the fancy dress store would have had something better.”

“And I’m sure you know that this isn’t a party for five–year–olds. This isn’t fancy dress, it’s fancy dress. As a member of the committee, I can’t allow you into the party with me if you don’t follow the rules.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” you snatch the dress from his hands and throw it onto the bed. But you pick up the glamorous mask from the box he’d opened for you. This, at least, was something to admire.

A bunny mask, white with gems and lace dotted delicately across it with two white feathers poking from the top to act as ears.

“Come on,” he whines. “You promised you’d come this year.”

“I know I did but now that it’s a few hours away, I’m beginning to think it’s okay to break some promises.”

“You’d really break a promise with your best friend?” he gasps. It sounds like he’s only kidding when he fake sobs but it’s Shotaro and you know it means something to him deep down.

He’s your best friend, after all.

You tut and let out a quiet exhale.

“I’ll go,” you say to him. “But is there really nothing else I can wear?”

“I spent all day shopping to find your costume…” he pouts.

“Fine,” you huff. “Is there a reason I’m bunny?”

“Didn’t I tell you this year’s theme is animals?”

“I thought it was masquerade.”

“Every year is masquerade, dummie. But the theme changes every year, not many people go with the theme anyway. But I thought it would be fun for us to do it, since it’s your first time.”

“What’s your animal?” you ask him.

“I’m an otter.” He says with the biggest, dorkiest smile ever.

“An otter?”

“Yeah!” his eyes close up from how much he’s smiling and you can’t find it in yourself to question his choice further.

“This party’s a big deal, huh?” you mutter to yourself.

“I’ll pick you up at nine, ‘kay?”

You nod and wave him goodbye while he runs out of your room. You know in the few hours until the party, he’ll barely have enough time to get ready himself since he’s part of the committee.

Neither you or Shotaro were party people, but the annual Halloween masquerade is something he takes pride in — mainly because him and a bunch of his friends host it every year, but also because he loves the spooky season.

Though, you can imagine there’d be little festivities happening tonight.

With the kind of crowd at your college — a prestigious and expensive kind — the partygoers only care about drinking overpriced champagne and showing off their designer outfits.

It’s not that you never attended by your own choice. Shotaro invited you every year but last year you fell sick and the year before you were behind with assignments.

You feel worried, in a way. Sure, you’ve been to your share of parties. But this is the biggest party of the year. And your outfit seemed lame.

Tonnes of people go as bunnies, and the number of bunnies would be higher since the theme is animals. Oh well, you trust Shotaro’s choice.

You sigh as you look over the items on your bed.

The white dress, the embellished mask and a pair of white kitten heels — Shotaro knows you wouldn’t be able to handle stilettos for an entire night and you silently thank him for taking note.

You remind yourself to pay him in return for going shopping on your behalf as you get in the shower. Playing your favourite songs, you get ready with a bit of a lighter mood.

Since you’re wearing a mask, you don’t go too heavy on the eyes and instead focus on picking out the perfect shade of lipstick. And then you move onto your hair.

When you’re done, you slip into your dress, fumbling with the zipper as your arms reach around your back to pull it up. You put on your shoes and straighten yourself out in the mirror.

You look… beautiful.

White never looked so good on you.

No one in the entire campus has seen you show so much skin and you begin to tremble with bad nerves but a knock on your room door grounds you.

“You look amazing!” Shotaro looks you up and down with a huge smile.

He is donned in a brown tweed suit. His hair is slicked back and the upper half of his face is covered with a mask — rounded eyes and rounded ears and brown fur.

“Mr. Otter,” you greet him. “You’re late.”

“Only by two minutes,” he grins and picks up your mask before tying the ribbons around your head, making sure to not spoil your perfectly styled hair. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nervous, but I’m starting to feel excited.”

Although the pit of your stomach is a little wobbly, there is a thrilling sensation in your chest that outweighs it. it’s safe to say you’re not as reluctant as before now that Shotaro is here. He’s so happy to see you.

You can only imagine how excited he is for you to finally attend his party.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Shotaro escorting you, or the fact that it’s your first time going, but when you look in the mirror while he fixes your mask, you feel like a completely different person. And you like it.

Maybe just for one night, you could be someone else.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

Your hand slips into his naturally. “Yeah.”

“You remember the rule, right?”

“Don’t take off your mask.”

The party is everything you imagined it to be, and everything you didn’t imagine it to be.

You’re in awe at the sheer elegance of it.

Sure, you’ve heard many stories about it. You never attended but it was no doubt a hot topic of conversation for days afterwards and people began looking forward to next year’s party immediately.

As you stepped into the hall, it feels like a new age ballroom for modern teens.

Like the old days of high society somehow met with drunken teen spirit of the twenty–first century.

You would be lying to say you aren’t impressed when Shotaro asks you.

Staring up at the dazzling chandeliers, Shotaro’s arm slips from your hold as he hugs some random guy. You don’t recognise him because of the mask he’s wearing, but he’s all green. His suit a dark shade of emerald velvet while his mask is a few shades lighter with textured snake skin.

His smile, on the other hand, is charming and completely unalike to a snake.

They exchange chatter and you don’t pay attention to their words until Mr. Snake lays his eyes on you. His pretty smile widens to show a perfect set of teeth.

Before he can introduce himself, you’re met with a handful of girls who’ve been excited to see you since you announced to them you’d be at the party. They whisk you away and you give a sorry wave to Shotaro.

You didn’t want to leave him so early but he cheers you on with raised fists.

You’re rushed onto the dance floor but you want nothing more than to peel away from the crammed bodies. For a few moments, you blend in on the border of enjoying dancing but you’d need a few drinks to loosen up first.

You escape the grasp of sweaty bodies wrapped in expensive clothes and slip away to the side.

If the party is this hyper right now, you certainly don’t feel excited for how much louder it will get in a few hours.

But then again… tonight’s all about letting go, right?

It wouldn’t hurt to join in with the chaos for one night.

Everyone’s wearing masks and you can barely recognise who is who unless you know them personally.

There’s a hint of fun among all of this.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a gentle shiver runs down your spine. It’s thrilling. And you feel like everyone is watching — your body grows a little to elated to what you’re used to.

Backing away from the crowd, you walk over to the punch table.

You sniff it before drinking, registering a hint of alcohol hidden among the fruity taste.

If you wanted to get completely wasted, you’d have started with the champagne on the other side of the room but you settle with some surprisingly good punch for now.

You just needed easing up a little.

And it works pretty fast. Your shoulders slowly relax and the dancefloor doesn’t seem so daunting now.

You feel a timid buzz in your body and it becomes stronger when someone joins you at the punch table.

He leans his butt against it after pouring a cup and sips it while looking you up and down.

You feel yourself burst into flames under the gaze of… a bear?

“Bunny?”

You nod.

“Nice,” he smirks. “You’re missing a tail, though.”

You roll your eyes and sip your own drink while his eyes slip down your back to your butt where he would expect to see a plush ball of white fur. You didn’t think about it until now, but your mask and ears are enough to let others know what animal you are. A missing tail isn’t a big deal.

But the way Mr. Bear looks at your body is.

It’s a new feeling; you like it, but you also don’t.

Discomfort floods your body but at the same time, you don’t want the feeling to go away. You can feel the walls of your comfort zone breaking away little by little.

You sigh at the thought. You’re doing this for Shotaro, remember?

Speaking of, you glance around the room and spot him surrounded by a group of people. Always the social butterfly. You feel proud of him in a way, but it didn’t help that you’re too awkward to speak to anybody else in the room.

Small talk has never been your expertise.

“Enjoying the party?” Mr. Bear asks.

“Sure.”

“Just sure? Not this is the best party you’ve ever been to?”

“It’s not the worst,” you shrug.

He chuckles and takes another sip of his drink.

“You look like you don’t go to many parties.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you here?”

Now, who does he think he is interrogating you for no reason, hm? His bear mask is less than intimidating, but the smirk on his face when he sees you firing up is enough to unsettle your nerves.

He’s here to piss you off on purpose.

There’s no need to give him what he wants.

Just finish your drink and go to the dance floor, maybe find Shotaro and dance with him for a bit before leaving.

“It’s rude to ignore people. It would be a shame to see a cute, little bunny get into trouble with the big, bad bear.”

He scoots over to you as he says it and he makes sure to whisper it right into your ear.

You swallow, ignoring the way his breath floats over your skin and causes goosebumps to rise. You curse the dress for not being long enough to hide how your body reacts to him.

“Big and bad, my ass,” you scoff, hiding your nervousness with an attitude. “You’re as intimidating as my little toe.”

You roll your eyes. When is this loser going to leave?

“You here with anyone?”

“What?”

“Did you come here with a date or are you alone?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious if you had an invite.”

“First of all, I was invited. And secondly, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t choose to spend my night breaking into some dumb party.”

“You sound angry,” he hisses. “Maybe you should leave if you don’t like it.”

“I would but some asshole bear keeps trying to talk to me.”

He’s silent for a moment before asking, “Who did you come with?”

Your grit your teeth. All the work the alcohol had done to relax you had failed the moment this pretentious ass came along.

“I came with Shotaro,” you tell him.

“Shotaro?” he laughs. “You gotta be kidding. Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Why not? Is it so hard to believe?”

“A little,” he admits, clearly becoming agitated with you. “How about I call him over so you can say it to him?”

“What are you—”

“Relax, Haechan” Mr. Snake appears in true snake fashion. He attempts to rub away the tension in Mr. Bear’s shoulders. “She’s with Taro. I saw them come in together.”

The bear bites back a remark and finally shuts up.

With the snake dude is another guy — dark hair and piercing eyes. It takes you a while but you realise his mask depicts a wolf.

“You’re YN, right?” he says. “Taro talks about you a lot.”

You nod silently.

“Shit… you’re YN?” Haechan brings his fist up to cover his mouth. You don’t know why he’s so shocked but him being stunned to silence works for you.

“I’m Jeno.” Mr. Wolf holds out his hand but you don’t take it.

He retracts it slowly and you look to Mr. Snake again.

“Jaemin,” he introduces himself. “And you know Haechan already, I see.”

The four of you fall into silence. After learning their names, you can’t say you know them. You don’t recall ever having classes with any of them.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Mr. Snake slash Jaemin asks.

“It’s fine,” you say plainly. “The company, however, is not.”

Your words cut through the air between you like a knife and you can tell they’re all taken aback. You’re not sure where this fieriness has come from but it feels exhilarating. Seeing them all look at you in surprise while at the same time, their eyes travel up and down your body.

Being set on fire by three different gazes is new but addicting.

You direct your attention to tracing the shape of the pumpkin on your cup of punch while they begin chattering to one another. It’s a little awkward and you’re about to leave before you’re knocked into.

Thankfully, your white dress doesn’t get stained but the white shirt of a tux turns red with the punch.

“Aww, man, my shirt!”

You step back immediately, not wanting any of the stains on you.

“I told you to watch it,” a familiar voice whines. Renjun appears donning a fox mask while patting down YangYang with some napkins. “Oh, hey YN. You look… good.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes stick on your body before looking away.

“Th–thanks…” you mutter.

Renjun is a quiet friend, but he always goes out of his way to speak with you. You have a few classes together and you get along well. But one thing you’ve always wanted to ask him is why he hangs out with YangYang so much.

Renjun is a sweet, calm and mature guy. YangYang is nothing but trouble. He’s loud and grabs attention wherever he goes. You try not to question their friendship much but as Renjun tries to clean the stain on the latter’s suit, you really wonder how their friendship came to be.

YangYang wears a mask with a pointed nose and eyes — an eagle.

Interesting choice.

Being surrounded by them all — all of whom are taller than you — makes you feel intimidated. They share glances between themselves; it’s awkward but no one says anything.

Renjun continues to help YangYang clean himself, Haechan starts whining again and thankfully, it’s not to you. And the other two, Jeno and Jaemin, deal with both Haechan’s annoyance and YangYang’s carelessness.

While they’re distracted, you take the opportunity to slip away and scour the floor for Shotaro. He’s further away now and you don’t look forward to fighting your way through the dancefloor to get to him.

You pull your phone from your purse and send him a quick text message. He checks his phone straight away and his eyes search for you as soon as he sees it and you give him a little wave. He smiles back in acknowledgement before his attention is stolen again.

The message reads: gonna head to the private room for a bit. I’ll come back soon

You head to the said room, looking back to ensure nobody saw you slipping through the back door of the hall and down the empty corridors of the building.

When you reach the room, you close the door quietly behind you.

The lights are already turned on, albeit dim. Somebody probably forgot to switch them off, maybe Shotaro.

He showed you his “secret” room a long time ago but you never visited it frequently until recently. He used it to plan for the party while you studied sitting next to him. No one else ever came when you were alone so you assume it’s an unused room.

Shotaro told you he sometimes comes here alone when he feels stressed, and asked for you to use it freely.

You collapse onto the soft couch; the plush, velvety material drags you deeper while you take off your mask and fling it onto the coffee table.

“So much for getting out of my comfort zone.”

You scroll through your phone until you’re bored and then spend the rest of your time laying in silence staring at the decorated ceiling.

Shotaro probably won’t have much time to come see you away from the party so you decide to head back.

But as soon as you stand, you hear voices growing louder. You stop a few feet away from the door, waiting for them to pass so you can leave only for the door to your room to swing wide open.

You jolt slightly, heart racing for some reason.

“Another shirt ruined. My mom’s going to kill me.” YangYang says as he enters first but stops in his tracks right in front of you.

The others bump into him subsequently.

“YN,” the wolf — Jeno — says. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I was just leaving.” You duck to the side to make a narrow escape but a big, tall bear stands in your way.

“Not so fast, little bunny. You know this is our room, right?”

You clench your jaw. What is it with this guy and trying to cause you problems?

“I didn’t know.”

“So you just go wandering into any room you like?”

“I…, no. Shotaro brought me here. He said I can use it whenever.”

“Oh, he did now?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Now, now children. Let’s not start getting into it again.” Jaemin says.

The others step further into the room and you try to leave again but Haechan still stands in your way.

“You gonna move or what?”

“Would you look at that?” he scoffs. “Bunny’s got a bite.”

If he doesn’t stop, you might actually bite him.

He steps closer and you stand up straighter when he looks down at you. He’s only inches away; he feels… addicting.

“Don’t act so brave, little bunny. Or the big, bad bear might gobble you up whole.”

You scoff.

“Not likely. The majority of a bear’s diet consists of vegetation.”

“Bunny’s got a brain, too.” Jaemin says from the couch. Your back is facing him so you don’t see him picking up the bunny mask you left on the table and waving it to the others. “But not a big one, apparently.”

The rest of them have settled comfortably in the room and before you know it, Haechan is grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to sit with them.

“What are you doing?!”

“Can’t let you go back out there when you’ve broken the rule. The little bunny needs to be punished.”

“What rule?” you huff. “Let go of me.”

You’re more than surprised when he places you in his lap. Freezing up immediately, your eyes widen but the rest of them act like this is just a normal day.

“Did Taro forget to tell you?” Renjun asks, and then explains, “You’re not allowed to take off your mask.”

“What—”

“Be quiet. You’re annoying me.” Haechan says.

And that’s exactly why he has you in his lap, isn’t it? Being stuck here is definitely a punishment.

They begin yet another conversation, complaining about how exhausted they all are from organising the party.

“Wait, you guys are on the committee?”

“Duh.” Haechan mutters beneath you.

“We all host the party with Shotaro,” Jeno explains. “Every year.”

You take in the information slowly. Maybe you should have thought twice before dissing the party to them earlier. No wonder the man beneath you got so pressed.

Stuck in your thoughts, you fall into silence again before a tickle against your leg stirs you. Jaemin’s fingers trace little patterns into your skin. He meets your eyes briefly before giving his attention back to the others as if nothing happened.

They continue talking but you feel both Haechan and Jaemin growing closer to you.

Haechan’s breath flutters over your skin. He places his chin on your shoulder and teases you ear with his lips. Your too stunned to comprehend his whispers and Jaemin snakes his way closer to you.

The others are watching as the two slowly break down your walls and every nerve in your body is on high alert.

Jaemin’s hand travels past the hem of your dress and you gasp as Haechan’s lips finally touch your skin. He’s soft, gently breathing onto the skin of your neck before biting down.

“Ah!” you yelp.

Your body is hot while the others watch Jaemin rubbing your thighs and Haechan leaving marks all along your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

“Hm? Don’t you like this?”

You bite your lips. You do, but it feels so wrong to admit it.

The desperation takes over, and you nod eagerly. This punishment doesn’t seem bad at all.

“Use your words, bunny. Tell us you want it.”

“I want it.”

“What do you want?”

“You. I want all of you.”

“Fuck…” you hear Jeno chuckle behind you. “Who knew Taro’s girl was this desperate?”

“I…I’m not…”

“Don’t give us that crap,” YangYang butts in. His legs are spread wide on the couch and his arms across the back of it. “Why don’t you come over here?”

“Hey, I had her first!” Haechan whines.

“Fuck you. You’ve had her all this time. You wanna know how hard my dick is from watching?”

“Not my problem.” Haechan says and grabs you by the cheeks, slamming his lips onto yours.

Your mouth opens to his immediately, letting him inside and you feel warmth in every part of you, especially in your core. You rub your thighs together, fidgeting in his lap and ensuring you rock your ass against his hardening cock.

Jaemin is exploring you with him. His hands have snuck under your dress, cupping your ass while he attacks your neck with his lips.

His mask grazes against your jaw and his dark eyes look to you through narrow slits.

There’s something exhilarating about his face being hidden, all of theirs. Maybe it was a good thing you were the only one to break the rule.

Haechan lifts your hips and situates you exactly how he wants.

Your ass presses right onto his dick while Jaemin helps him spread your legs wide on either side of him. He drops to his knees, kissing his way up from your ankles to your inner thighs.

His lips tickle you and your core tenses.

“Mind if I take ‘em off?” He notions towards your white, lacey panties.

You nod, swallowing nervously as he peels them away. You can feel the arousal on the material when it parts from you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…”

“Of course, she is,” Haechan kisses your neck. “She’s a slutty little bunny. Ain’t that right?”

He nudges you and you nod quickly.

One of his hands cups your breast while the other pulls your dress up, holding it against your stomach so no obstacles are left for Jaemin.

“You sure you want this?” Jaemin asks. You appreciate his sentiment but you’re too desperate for his niceties.

“Yes, please…just touch me!”

A filthy grin finds its way to his face before he dips his head and attaches his lips to your pussy.

“Ah!” you whimper.

Your back presses into Haechan as it arches and your ass grinds against his cock while you rock your hips back and forth against Jaemin’s face. He grabs your thighs, holding them tight around his neck while he licks and sucks.

He drags his teeth over your clit gently, causing you to cry out from the feeling. And then he rubs his tongue up and down, electrifying your entire body.

You feel your orgasm approaching when he shoves two fingers into your pussy with ease. You’re so fucking wet and he spreads you open while tasting your sweet essence.

Pleasure hits you, blinding your senses and your body trembles in Haechan’s embrace. You’re gasping and crying, begging for Jaemin to not stop and finally your hips stop moving.

You collapse onto Haechan and catch your breath. Upon opening your eyes, you see them all staring at you with mouths wide open.

“You sound so pretty…” Renjun mutters.

Some of them stroke their boners over their slacks, others watch quietly, waiting for the next move.

“My turn.” Haechan flips you onto the couch. Your shoulders meet the cushions while your ass bends upwards. You shuffle into a more comfortable version while Haechan rips off his belt and pulls out his cock.

He hisses when he strokes it a few times.

“God, you’re so hot…” he whispers. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

You moan into the cushions while he prods your entrance.

“Wait,” Jeno calls.

“The fuck do you want?”

You turn your head to see Mr. Wolf reaching into his pocket and making his way to you. He talks directly to you, ignoring Haechan completely.

“Now’s a good time to tell you about the little gift Shotaro bought you.”

He reveals a fluffy white ball. You’re not sure of its purpose at first until you see the rounded metal hidden beneath all the fur.

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Shotaro got me that?!”

“He pussied out last minute and gave it to me instead. But it was meant for you.”

“Why the hell would he give it to you?” Renjun asks and Jeno shrugs while the others laugh.

You swallow grimly, eyes not leaving the toy.

“How about we give our bunny a tail?” Haechan grins.

His voice is so sickeningly annoying but you can’t get enough of it.

“What do you say?”

You purse your lips in thought.

Did Taro really get you that?

What did he mean by it?

Does he… want to have sex with you? Or was it only meant to as an accessory to your costume?

You don’t have time to think about it and you brush the notions away quickly with a nod.

“Bunny wants a tail.” You whine cutely, pouting your lips as you look up at him.

You hear one of them groan and Haechan grabs handfuls of your ass, spreading your cheeks and spitting between them. His fingers rub gently, spreading his spit.

Meanwhile, Jeno bends down to your level.

“Open wide.”

You part your lips and stick out your tongue, letting the saliva dribble. He rubs the metal part of the ball up and down, coating it in saliva before ordering you to suck on it. Whispers of curses fill the room as you make the most needy face you can while sucking on the toy.

“Good girl,” Jeno strokes your hair, tickling your scalp with his fingers.

The plug pops from your mouth Haechan holds you open while Jeno slips it in your ass.

“Relax, baby,” he rubs your body to ease. “There we go. Almost there.”

He teases it in and out of your hole until you’re ready to take it fully and then he pushes it in. You whine from the sensation but the feeling of being filled is incredible. You shake your ass teasingly and both of them grab it, leaving a red mark from a slap.

Haechan wastes no time in fucking you. He pushes into your pussy, guiding your hips onto him with eagerness. His cock spreads you open and he stutters vocally.

“Ah, you’re so fucking tight…”

You whine in response and push your hips back and forth with him, allowing him to dive in deeper. Your walls wrap around him and he stills for a moment when he’s fully situated.

“Fuck, Haechan!” you cry. “Feels so good.”

“Baby, I’m not even doing anything.” He chuckles and the others laugh with him. “You’re such a little bunnywhore, ain’t ya? So desperate for my cock.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Please, Haechan, want you to fuck me so good.”

“What was that? I don’t think the others heard you.”

“Please! Fuck me real good, Haechan. Wanna be fucked like a little whore!”

He drags his cock out slowly before slamming back in.

“What a slutty little bunny.”

You moan into the cushions, not caring if they become covered with your drool and makeup. You can only feel Haechan’s cock driving in and out of you and the heated gaze of everyone else on the two of your bodies.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” Haechan says and you clench around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and jerking his cock over your ass. His hot cum hits you in spurts and you wiggle your hips side to side while he groans and empties his load on you.

“Fucking perfect…” he whispers and falls onto the couch.

“Who’s next?” Jeno asks.

You rise up on trembling arms and all of them are silent, but expectant. You crawl over to the one closest to you, Renjun.

He seems nervous, swallowing loudly when you touch him.

“Renjun…?”

“You… you don’t have to YN.”

“But I want to.”

You kiss his ears, his neck, his lips. Your hands sneak under his blazer and trace his hard body over his shirt. He nods shyly.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask softly.

“You…” he gasps and throws his head back when you squeeze his cock. “Your mouth. Use your mouth.”

You fall to the floor immediately, held warmly between his legs and he helps you remove his cock from his boxers and pants.

You stroke him gently, feeling him harden even more.

An experimental lick swipes its way up his cock and you eye him, watching him unravel from the warmth of your tongue. When you reach the tip, you take him past your lips. Little by little, teasing him and admiring the way his chest rises and falls rapidly.

You make sure to stick out your ass for the others while you suck Renjun’s cock and in no time, his cock hits the back of your throat from his hips thrusting up.

“God, YN!” he moans.

You suck tighter, bob your head faster and when you see his fists tightening by his side, you remove him from your mouth completely.

“Ah!” he gasps loudly. He reaches for his cock to reach his high but you hold them back. “YN, please!”

“Don’t you want to cum inside your little bunny?” you whisper.

He stares at you, mesmerised.

“Renjunnie… cum inside me… please?””

He nods gently.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

You bite your lips, telling him that it’s more than fine. You want nothing more than to be filled up with him, with all of them.

To your side, YangYang has his cock out, stroking it up and down while his head rests on the back of the couch watching you. Haechan is still blissed out but watching intensely and the other two sit quietly, waiting for you to finish with their friend.

You climb onto his lap, a thigh on either side and press your lips to his while sinking down in his cock. He moans into your mouth and you mix them with your own. He holds you nervously, unsure where to touch you as you rock back and forth on his cock.

His fingers dig into your side and you reach a hand between your bodies, meeting with your needy clit. You rub circles, causing you to clench around his cock and the feeling of his cum spurting into you tosses you over the edge.

You bounce quickly, not wanting to slow down the orgasm anymore and allow yourself to be taken over with another. All the while, Renjun moans and moans until he’s fully spent inside of you.

You feel your ass clenching around the tail and you feel so full being stuffed again and again.

Renjun is on the border of passing out and you jump from him.

YangYang reaches his arm out to grab you but you find it entertaining to tease him and you slip from his grasp, making your way to Jaemin and Jeno.

“Hey, bunny,” Jeno smiles.

You smile sweetly, wobbling on your weak legs and he pulls you into his lap.

“How about we take her together?” he asks Jaemin.

“Sounds good to me.”

He lifts you with ease and lays you gently on the couch they were sitting on. He gives your tail a little tug, causing you to yelp but you all giggle together after.

“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are tonight?” Jaemins strokes your cheeks.

You shake your head, melting into his touch.

“Hm, we could tell her,” Jeno suggests. “Or we could show her.”

You whine, feeling your pussy flutter with excitement as if it hadn’t already had enough.

“I think she wants us to show her.” Jaemin smiles and you feel yourself drift to cloud nine when they both look down at you between them.

Jeno places himself between your legs, pressing a long kiss to your ankles before placing them on his shoulder. Jaemin, on the other hand, unbuckles his belt and pulls out his cock. He lets it hang freely, waiting for you to grab it.

A groan escapes him and his knees tremble when you begin stroking. You pull him closer, letting your tongue taste his precum.

“Ah! Fuck, bunny. You’re such a good girl.”

You squeal when you feel Jeno pressing his cock into your sopping hole. Your pussy flutters around him as he pushes his way in. You’re so overwhelmed yet you keep wanting more.

You take all of Jaemin into your mouth, moving your head as much as you could in this position and Jeno thrusts deeper, slow and hard.

You moan around Jaemin’s cock, vibrations running through his body and when he can’t take it anymore, he grabs a handful of your hair before thrusting into your mouth.

His cock hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes but you blink them away, not wanting to distort the image of the two men using you like their personal fleshtoy.

Fuck, you feel so hot.

Your core is so tense and you can feel every ridge of Jeno’s cock in your pussy. He slams harder, faster, pace picking up and rhythm growing messy. He’s close.

“Fuck!” you mumble around Jaemin’s cock.

They both groan, griping onto anything they can and you’re about to cum all over Jeno’s cock when he pulls out. You whine but he uses his fist to empty his load all over your pussy.

Your muscles twitch endlessly and Jaemin pulls out of your mouth only to push Jeno out of the way and replace him inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty,” he groans. “But so fucking cute.”

He thrusts into you and you let your entire body relax in his hold. His arms wrap around your waist and he kisses the exposed skin of your chest and neck, using his hands to grope your tits.

Your walls flutter around him and you feel the sting of pleasure once again.

“Harder!” you cry.

He heeds your demand and fucks you relentlessly, letting his cum spill freely in your pussy.

“Oh my god!”

You cum together and everyone groans with you. Your head digs into the couch and your hips rise up to meet Jaemin’s until he holds you both still together, brushing your hair away from your sweaty face.

He shushes you and guides your breathing until you’ve come down from your high once more.

Then he takes your hand and lifts you into an upright position, placing a gentle kiss on you’re forehead.

“Did so well, bunny. You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod, slowly and completely exhausted.

Everyone has collapsed onto their backs, letting the couches swallow them whole.

It must have been quite the show.

For all but one.

“Got one more for me?” YangYang smirks.

You crawl over to him, collapsing on his lap with your thighs on either side. His cock is already out and he’s lining it up with your entrance immediately.

He leaves a small kiss in the crook of your neck before sinking you down on his cock.

You rest your head on his shoulder while he lifts your hips up and down on his lap.

“Oh, my god!” he groans. “Waited so fucking long but it was worth it.”

You don’t register how fast he’s slamming you on his cock, nor how hard his fingers dig into your flesh but you use whatever energy still existing in your body to move your thighs.

“That’s right, bunny. Show me how good you can bounce.”

His words spur you on and the raspiness in his voice elates your heartbeat despite it being impossible to beat any faster.

You feel yourself clench one more time and you spill all of your juices onto him. It’s too much, you can’t hold anything back despite having nothing left to give.

“Fuck, she’s squirting!”

YangYang lifts his hips up when he brings you down on him and you feel him reaching even deeper.

“Ah!” you cry. “Too much!”

“Finally had enough?” he growls into your ear.

You nod desperately.

“Can’t take my cock anymore?”

“It’s too good!”

“Fuck, do you want me to stop or not?”

“No! Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”

YangYang thrusts harder and he bites into your shoulder. You’re amazed at how your dress was able to stay on this whole time but it slips down further and further, not exposing your chest fully but showing just enough of your tits to drive them all crazy.

One look at them bouncing is enough make YangYang lose all of his control.

“Ah! I’m cumming!” you cry, letting one more, and hopefully the last, orgasm wash over you.

“Fuck! Me too!”

His hips tremor when he pushes himself balls deep in you. They remain flush against your pussy until you feel his cum stop pouring out.

And when he pulls out, his cum drips out of your pussy and back onto his softening cock.

They all groan as you fall to the side, spreading your legs to show them how all of their cum decorates your body.

You’re so fucking messy, sweaty and covered in cum but you don’t care.

All of you sit quietly for a while, not a word spared between you until you’ve caught your breath and attempt to sit upright.

Jaemin and YangYang aid you and help you stand on wobbling legs.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so…” you gasp as you feel the cum dribble down your legs.

“That was fucking amazing…” Haechan says.

And the others agree with him. Renjun just hums in his blissed out state while YangYang strokes your thighs from behind.

“You were amazing. How did you even handle all of that?”

“Because she’s such a good bunny.” Jeno teased but leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek, and Jaemin beings you some tissues and helps you start wiping yourself.

Only now do they remove their masks and it feels refreshing to finally see their handsome faces.

Your entire body trembles gently while they take care of you, making sure to compliment you at any second they get. But a loud click catches everyone’s attention and your body jolts when the door opens.

Terrified of being caught, you grab onto Jaemin and pull him in front of you, but you freeze upon seeing who entered the room.

“Shotaro…” you gasp and pull down your dress as if it would hide the fact that you just fucked all of his friends.

“YN?”

He looks somewhat disheartened as he walks deeper into the room. Music still beats through the walls and your heart hammers with it.

As he gets closer, you see his eyes swim with emotion. And to your surprise, his entire demeanour changes from his usual softness to something dark and dominating. You’ve never seen him like this before but the numbness in your body slowly fades, replacing itself with excitement.

The room is silent as he guides your chin upwards to look him in the eyes.

His warm fingers caress your cheeks and as he stares deep into your soul, his hands slide down to your hips, pulling you so close to him that you can’t escape.

“Looks like someone’s been a bad bunny.”

#✧ jella writes #✧ jella's fics #nct x reader #nct 00 line smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct jeno x reader #nct renjun x reader #yangyang x reader #shotaro x reader #haechan smut #nct jaemin smut #jeno smut #renjun smut #yangyang smut #underworldnet halloween writing event

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dsknsk · 1 month

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I love how PM keeps playing with tropes. We've seen the tropes that they deconstruct within Limbus (in fact, it is a theory of mine that each Sinner is based on a stereotypical character from gachas), the way that they pick up the cyberpunk trope and basically throw it across the room, but another huge one is...

Carmen.

Look. I think that Carmen was and is based on the traditional 'Mary Sue'. Because...well, some traits that are said to belong to the 'Mary Sue', are turned brilliantly on their head by PM. So, for typical 'Mary Sue' traits, there's:

Pretty in the traditional sense. 'Mary Sues' always look perfect, peerless and never have to work hard to maintain their image. While, as far as I know, there hasn't really been made an in-universe compliment on Carmen's physical appearance...you'd rather stop and listen to someone who at least looks like they can be trusted wouldn't you? She's likened to the sun, as Oswald called her that, and is inside the light. (Also, out-of-universe: she is certainly pretty in my eyes. She adheres to the modern beauty standards at the very least).

Related to the above: charming. The 'Mary Sue' often has an innate charm that attracts others to her. The way that Carmen has this is through her voice, which already was powerful enough to let her traverse the dangerous Backstreets unarmed, standing out from all those other Backstreets preachers somehow and draw in the most cynical noblemen, but is even more charming after death. She doesn't even need to give a breaking speech or anything, as we've seen, she just gives you questions and comments on things. Which falls in line with...

Powerful, yet without having to break a sweat. Even before dying, she was already drawing in people without having to get physical (at least, none we know of). The only time we fight her as of yet (Kether realisation), Angela needs to use an attack that depletes all her HP to win, after five phases have already passed.

The 'Mary Sue' is often a so-called spotlight stealer. She will have a major role in the story, inexplicably, at least one other character will fall in love with her and she will overall have a large presence. So far, Carmen is the only character who has appeared in all three of the games, and if you count the Distortion and the Library, she has influenced WonderLab, Leviathan and Distortion Detective as well. She was also relevantly connected to the main cast of LobCorp and has influenced most of them in some way (i.e Ayin, Angela, Giovanni, arguably Kali, etc.). She remains to be relevant to several major story turns and has left her mark in them, in some way.

Unusual eyes. It's a stereotype that 'Mary Sues' always have unusual eyes. A common type is heterochromia (which is why I often jokingly call Hong Lu a 'Mary Sue'), but other types exist like sparkly rainbow or them changing like a mood ring or something. Carmen has red eyes, which are a common side-effect of body enhancements (Vergilius had them and the R Corp pack leaders too)...except, as we said, for as far as we know, Carmen hasn't had any. They are also a trait of Bloodfiends, but she isn't (yet) confirmed to be one. Either way, red eyes are a sign of the not-weak in the City.

Oftentimes, 'Mary Sues' are referred to as divinity, as pure grace from an utmost high all-powerful deity. They may or may not even be that deity. With Carmen, she practically had a cult of personality around her when she was alive...and she also had an analogue in another pale-skinned, red-eyed being that is also treated like this. She was described as this paeon of altruism and someone who genuinely wants the best for humanity.

Meaningful name. While not so immediately on-the-nose like 'Flowersparkle', Carmen's name can be seen as a reference to the infamous prototype of the femme fatale, once again hinting at that charming quality of hers.

Perfect. A 'Mary Sue' never fails at what she does...and that's where PM shows through that...

...Carmen is a parody on the 'Mary Sue'. A so-called 'Parody Sue'...but not played for laughs. The thing is that she is described as being all this...by those she already has enthralled. Those that aren't really involved with her - Hokma (was more loyal to Ayin), Binah (who wasn't in the picture during Carmen's life), and Roland (a stranger to LobCorp to begin with) have their say during Ruina and offer us another view at Carmen, our first, and one thing becomes clear:

A real 'Mary Sue' would be weird as fuck.

Carmen shows us how weird a 'Mary Sue' would actually be in a world that isn't sunshine and rainbows - an extremely uncanny, severely misguided being who nonetheless draws people to herself, who show a creepy amount of belief and devotion to her. Carmen thinks that the 'be yourself' message - so omnipresent in media - should prevail...in a world where the majority of people are either pieces of shit or are living such a dreary, miserable life that they just give up all hope.

But all of this is only revealed in the second game and pulls the player out of the dream. And so, Carmen does end up failing to convince some people like Dongbaek and Dongrang who manage to develop E.G.O instead.

Because despite what she was painted as in the past, in reality, Carmen is not a 'Mary Sue'. And she is not perfect.

That's why she's such a great PM character.

#limbus company #library of ruina #lobotomy corporation

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kookslastbutton · 10 months

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. V

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,342

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jk has milk obsession, oc injured, both lonely :(, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: I've heard the requests and I think it's time to fulfill them–how did they get together?! Yes, it's here and I'm excited to finally share! Also, yes this took up whole chapter so a tiny break from present-day stuff but we'll be back at it next chapter. 💞

<< ch. IV ༓ ch. Vl >> | series masterlist

Before marrying you, Jungkook had the same routine. He got up, showered, brushed his teeth, put work clothes on, grabbed breakfast, and ran out the door with twenty minutes to spare. Trying to find a parking spot at 7 a.m. at the university was no joke and he had to leave early or some college kid would take the last spot and not think twice.

His night routine was similar. Jungkook finished the day between 5 and 6 pm, slowly regretting he ever agreed to teach evening classes. He’d kick off his shoes, eat dinner, grade some of his student’s papers if needed, brush his teeth again, and went to bed.

It was a constant cycle and with no one around, not even a pet, Jungkook’s life was fairly quiet and systematic. Sometimes his buddies would come over on the weekend for a couple of hours and that surely rocked his world.

But that wouldn’t happen often during the school season due to his ridiculously packed teaching schedule. The most recent person he’d hang around during those months was Taehyung and if he wasn’t free, Jungkook would spend his time at the grocery store��stocking up on milk.

4 years ago

“That was two weeks ago man,” Jungkook says, pushing a cart with five-gallon jugs of milk to his car. He’s on the phone with Taehyung who's reminiscing about the grand opening of the new art exhibit and how “lovely” it was to meet you there.

Jungkook doesn’t need reminding though.

He clearly remembers seeing you there and Taehyung happily making a complete fool of him once he found out who you were. Thankfully you hadn’t seemed to mind too much since you and Taehyung soon moved on to discuss various art theories, masterpieces, and underrepresented artists.

“You didn't have to stay y'know.” If Jungkook didn't know any better he'd think Taehyung was salty. "You could've left at 8 pm like you planned. __ and I would have been fine."

Jungkook winces hearing the man's argument. He did think about going home at 8, but it unsettled him to leave you alone with Taehyung. His colleague was enjoying himself a little too much that night and there’s no telling what he’d do or say when he’s overly comfortable.

Jungkook had to stay until you left.

"Are you kidding me? Leaving you unsupervised would've been the worst idea after all your endless blubbering." Jungkook pops the trunk of his car, stuffing the jugs of milk inside. "God knows what you'd scar __ with."

On the other line, Taehyung smirks through the speaker. "No, that's not it......you weren't going to leave me alone with a woman, an attractive one at that."

Jungkook grabs the last jug of milk, slamming it on the floorboard. "Student, and stop talking about her like that. She's my stu—"

"Say student one more time and I'm going to take all your milk and give it to Yoongi hyung's cats."

"I swear to god, Taehyung, if you touch my milk I'm never going to another art museum or wine tasting with you again." Jungkook is very protective of his dairy products.

"That's okay. I don't need you when __ says she'll be happy to go with me sometime." Smug bastard, Jungkook thinks. There's no way you said that.

"That's bull Taehy—"

"Look she's in her masters and is literally eight years younger than you. It's not that serious so stop acting like she's fresh out of high school. Besides, you said it yourself, she's not a child."

Jungkook grunts, shoving the cart into the others. "She's a young lady who happens to be enrolled in the school. As faculty, we have no business thinking or talking about her outside those terms."

"For fucksake, Kook. You always make things so complicated!" Taehyung's baritone voice cracks through the speaker. "I'm just trying to get you to admit that you're into her some way or another. How many other students have I stayed to talk to and you couldn't give a—"

Just then a loud, high-pitch screech interrupts the call. Jungkook whips his head around immediately. He doesn't spot anything at first but a string of profanities remains audible in the distance.

"Jungkook, are you okay?"

"Yeah, but someones screaming and I can't tell where it's coming from." Jungkook walks around the grocery parking lot, eyes darting left and right. "Oh shit!"

There, near the bus stop, you lay on your side with your right leg stretched out and blood running from your temple. You try getting up but you fall right back down, cursing sharply.

"Taehyung I gotta go, it's __. I don't know what happened but she's laying by the bus stop and I think she needs help!" Jungkook shuts his phone and races to where you lay. He kneels next to you with sheer horror on his face. "__, what happened? What can I do?"

"Damn college boys, Dr. Jeon," you spit, dragging your leg up as far as you can. You reach for your bag which had flung about a foot away when you crashed. "So fucking eager to get off the bus and—oh damn that hurts like a bitch!"

"What hurts?" Jungkook lunges forward to catch your torso from slamming on the hard concrete. "Stay still okay? We need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm all set, but thanks. It'll likely heal in a day."

Jungkook shakes his head and wraps an arm under your back and legs. "Can you put your arms around my neck?"

"Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but I don't want to go to the hospital. Please."

You're serious. No trace of bluffing or even simply trying to act tough. You really don't want to go.

"You need to be checked by a doctor sweetheart," Jungkook insists. "Whatever happened has made it so you can't walk. C'mon, my car is nearby and I'll drive you over."

"No, wait!" He feels you push against his chest.

"__. I'm not leaving you without making sure you didn't break a bone or something. I don't want to make things worse but you don't look so hot right now. So please, let me take you." Jungkook lifts you up when you give a barely consenting yes.

"You sprained your ankle pretty bad hun." Dr. Kim Seokjin draws your attention to the X-ray scan. "Second degree." He points to the visual of your partially torn ligament. "There's going to be a lot of swelling so you're gonna need to stay off your foot for at least 4 weeks."

"Do I have to stay here?" is your first question.

"For the first couple of weeks, we strongly advise—yes." Dr. Kim moves on to the next X-ray scan. "You also cracked a rib which will also take about 4 weeks to heal, or more. Of course you're head has suffered a mild concussion as well but it's very mild thankfully." Dr. Kim catches sight of Jungkook next to you, staring at the scans. "You're wife's going to be okay," he says mid-diagnoses.

"We're not—" you start to say but Dr. Kim continues talking.

"Wife, girlfriend, lover, what have you. The point is, much of what we have here will recover with a month of rest, ice, and elevation." He takes a pen from his pocket and starts jotting down something on paper. "I recommend two weeks here for moderation purposes. If things look good, you finish the healing at home. Still, be careful though, no funny business."

The blank looks on both your faces tell Dr. Kim he wasn't clear enough. "Yah, my filters going to die with you two doe-eyed deer. No funny business means no sex!"

"Oh god!" You outburst, mortified by the thought. Jungkook whips his head to your slack-jawed expression. "Dr. Kim, it's not like that between us."

The older man suddenly zeros in on your professor, eyes narrowing slightly. "What's the matter son? Having trouble getting it up?"

Jungkook jolts in his seat, startled by the crass response. "I—no, what? There's nothing wrong with my—"

"We're not together!" You shout before Jungkook's sentence finishes. "We're friends." Saying that your professor brought you here sounded a little odd for some reason, especially when Dr. Kim was already convinced you two were a thing.

"Mhm sure, heard the same thing from my wife before we went off and eloped." Dr. Kim treads to the door. If he has a dime for how many times he's heard that "we're friends" bs he'd be...well, he's already rich so never mind. "Let's move on to something more productive now, like getting __ settled in a room. The sooner she starts the healing process, the sooner she can be good as new again."

"Thank you Dr. Kim," Jungkook says, slowly standing up to stroll you and your wheelchair out of the room. You didn't like it but the nurses insisted you be in one to keep pressure off your muscles.

"Yeah yeah." Dr. Kim waves him off. "Just remember what I said, no funny business. Especially here at the hospital. You don't know how many times I've heard the nurses catching their patients on top of one another at 2 am in the morning. That better not be you two, whoever you are to each other."

"Yes, doctor." You both reply, thankful of the fact that neither of you are in any position to be looking at each other.

"Is there any way I can be here for less than two weeks?" Jungkook watches as you plead with the nurse. It worries him that you're still anxious to avoid medical attention.

"I'm afraid not," the nurse says simply. "If you need anything, press the call button and I'll be in as soon as I can."

Once the nurse leaves, Jungkook pulls up a chair next to your bed. "Stupid question but how are you feeling?"

"I'm in an ankle brace, my rib burns, and my head is still dizzy. I'm trapped in the hospital for two weeks and all because a bunch of nineteen-year-old boys couldn't wait to hit up some frat party," you groan, not bearing in mind your tongue. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this Dr. Jeon."

"You didn't drag me into anything __. I'm glad I was there when this happened and I'm even more glad that you're here, getting help." Jungkook clears his throat before continuing. "Even if it isn't ideal for you."

You ignore the subtle pry for information. "Please, Dr. Jeon. You don't have to stay any longer. It's the weekend and I'm sure you have plans."

Jungkook gives a faint smile. "So, you're saying this is none of my business?"

"No, not—not at all. I mean if you want to stay then I guess you can but I don't want you to feel obligated or anything."

"I want to be here," Jungkook says simply. "But you know that's not what I meant. I'd like to know why it bothers you when anyone tries to help you...if I may."

"Just habit," you mumble quickly, averting eye-contact. It's not your professor's job to bear the weight of your problems.

Jungkook nods in reply, pretending you gave a satisfactory explanation. He wishes you'd tell him but if you didn't want to share more then that was your choice —he wasn't going to force you. "I understand." He grabs his phone from his pocket and rests his elbows on his knees. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" You look back at him, his question going right over your head.

"I asked if you're hungry. It's about dinner time so I can get you something if you want. I also have a bunch of milk in my trunk that needs to get to a fridge. But I can place the order now and pick it up in my way back here."

"Milk in your trunk?" Is the only words you repeat, dumbfounded. "Like chocolate milk or...?"

"Nah, Whole Milk." Jungkook grins at your scrunched up face. You try to hide it but not very well. "Don't look so disgusted. Milk is good for you."

"Yeah when you're ten years old."

"On the contrary!" You flinch when his voice rises, along with his eyebrows. "Milk has a lot of health benefits as adults. It has thirteen essential nutrients and helps maintain muscle and bone strength. I drink at least two full glasses a day, if not more."

"I'm sorry but that's nasty." You shudder at the thought of drinking milk in your twenties let alone your thirties. "You really enjoy it? The taste?"

"Yup, always have since a baby! Loved it so much that my mother-" You raise an eyebrow to which he abruptly switches topics. "Anyway, do you want me to pick you up something or no?"

You giggle, a little uncomfortable with whatever he was about to disclose to you.

"That's okay, no thanks."

"You sure? Otherwise I'm gonna be eating in front of you." Jungkook knows how this sounds — he's trying to force you to eat. But the truth is, he just doesn't want to eat by himself tonight. He also doesn't want to leave you alone this early, especially when you obviously detest being here, for whatever reason.

"I'm sure," you say. "But...if you want to come back you can. Not like I have anything to do anyway."

"Good then." Pleased, Jungkook opens up his phone contacts. "Give me you're number in case you change your mind while I'm out."

Over the next couple of weeks, Jungkook continues to stay by your side. He leaves to teach his classes of course and to go home late at night, but he stops by every day—hours at a time.

You keep insisting that he not come so much but he always makes the same excuses. "I just brought food" or "You're on my way home from the university". Sometimes he brings in class notes too.

Due to your current predicament, you're missing a lot of content so Jungkook thinks it best to go over key principles with you and takeaways from his lectures. He says it's his duty as a professor–never minding the fact that many of his other students are in a predicament of their own yet he’s not bothering to do jack for them.

"Look Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but you really don't have to. I'll be perfectly alright to catch myself up from the textbook and study guides. You don't have to keep stopping by." You try again but Jungkook keeps his wall just as strong as yours.

"I know I don't have to __. I know that I could leave right now, take all these lecture notes home with me, and not feel guilty about a thing. But I told you I was going to be here and I'm going to keep to that no matter how many times you urge me to leave. I also want you to call me Jungkook outside class but have you allowed for any of those to happen?" Jungkook tosses the folder of notes in his sachel, a loud thump following. "A simple thank you would suffice."

"I am grateful, I really am. But I never asked to be given so much of your time. I feel bad because maybe you're just one of those overly nice people who feel it's their duty to stick around or what not when someone's in trouble. I don't need to be pitied over! Also, you said I could keep calling you the usual, so Dr. Jeon it will remain!" Why you're raising your voice, you don't know but it's happening either way.

"Yeah I did," Jungkook quips, matching your tone. "But after the last, nearly two weeks I think we ought to be on a first-name basis! And I'm in no way pitying you okay? I'm here because I care dammit! I don't want you to be alone and I don't want you to be behind in getting your Masters. So I' try to be be here every day for at least fifteen minutes if not more!"

You don't fully process what he says so you reply to what you remember most. "Why? Why can't I call you Dr. Jeon? It's been that way from the start, twice every week. So why do I need to call you Jungkook all a sudden?!"

"Because it makes me feel younger, you insulted my milk after I first took you to the hospital, we've been eating dinner almost every night since your injury, you told me about your childhood cat named Mr. Muttonbottom, and you just called me by my first name so there are no take backs! Now, if you're done making a fit, do you want bibimbap or jajangmyeon for dinner tonight?!"

What the actual hell? You cease your arguing at once, hearing your professor, or excuse you, Jungkook, all fluffed up. Obviously, you're not the only one high-strung over being stuck in the same routine day in, day out.

"Jajangmyeon...please," you mutter.

"Thank fuck," he swears. Yeah that's new too.

"Sorry for getting mad earlier." You mumble the words as soon as Jungkook returns with the food. "It just feels odd that you've been here all the time...you're my professor."

Jungkook mauls over your choice of words, stiffening ever so slightly. "Well, I'd like to think we're sorta friends now but alright. Does this actually bother you __? I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, you know that." He places the bag of take-out on the small desk near your bed.

"No, it's doesn't bother me." you just don't know how to react or what to say besides a measly thank you. More so, you don't want to make someone feel responsible for you...you should take care of your own shit without bringing others with you. It's not the best mindset, you're aware, but its the one you have.

"Okay good because to be completely transparent, I'm sorta here for me too. I live my myself, eat by myself, talk to myself....I do most things alone so it's nice having someone else to be around." He's not sure where to set his eyes, so he looks downward, fumbling with the napkins in front of him. "I'm making this awkward, sorry."

Feeling the strange need to offer comfort, you stretch a hand over Jungkook's arm. "I get it. It's nice having someone around too."

You and Jungkook hold each other's gaze for a few seconds more, letting the brief silence do the rest of the talking. Maybe you've been looking at this a little too one-sided.

"How are you feeling today? Any better?" Jungkook cracks open the bowl of Jajangmyeon, handing it to you with a pair of chopsticks.

You take the steamy food and gesture to your ankle which has swollen down a good amount. "Still more healing to be done but it's better."

Jungkook hums in approval. "That's comforting to hear. Dr. Kim going to discharge you soon?"

"Yeah, I think so. A few more days and he said I should be able to rest up at home."

"Really?" He chews on his bottom lip. "Well great, uhm , do you have stuff going on when you get back?"

You think a moment, trying to recollect if you made plans with Na-Rae. "Maybe some but not much. I don't have a ton of people around me right now either...down here I mean."

"Well, do you wanna go out to dinner then?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected. It's almost like he planned this or at least has been thinking about it for a bit. "We've been eating together for a while now and I think it might be a nice celebratory thing."

"Are you asking me on a date...Jungkook?" Because it defiantly sounds like he is, as indirect as it may be.

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well...let's go with "hang out", like friends do."

A/N: so yeah, thats how they got together 👀😅 anyone surprised? Thinking about a drabble for thier first date now haha. Anyway, next chapter we get back to present day stuff where more drama goes down. Also, adding a chapter bc this flashback took the whole chapter lol. Lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lubtou @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @kaithezaftig @skzthinker @babystarcandykookie @jksusawife

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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esamastation · 6 months

Text

Part fifty-nine of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-fix, fifty-seven, fifty-eight

By the end of the day Tseng has been left with answers, questions and a whole lot of sections unfelined in his original assessment to be removed as no longer applicable. Sephiroth… neither behaves nor reacts as expected, that much is clear. But that's not the most concerning thing, at all.

Sephiroth's Energy Alignment is. His cultivation is a concern. As is the fact that the man is absolutely certain that it can be taught to anyone.

There is a number of theories about what is happening to Sephiroth. Professor Hojo has one theory, the Science Department as a whole has another. Tseng himself had added a few more theories to the list, which have now been proven wrong.

Sephiroth's cultivation isn't Wutai in origin. It's similar in nature, self-improvement and self-betterment, the cultivation of your self in order to advance in your abilities is certainly part of it. But what Sephiroth is doing is taking all that to a metaphysical - or perhaps magiphysical - level. He is quite literally cultivating the energies inside himself, honing them in manner unheard of, into something no one has ever theorised.

And Tseng can't deny that it does indeed seem like it might be an Ancient doctrine. Sephiroth can already perform magical feats without Materia - and according to the man himself, he's still in the beginner stages.

"What will happen once your cultivation is complete?" Tseng can't help but ask, after the day's training and meditation is over and they're making dinner.

"I will ascend to the heavens as a new god," Sephiroth answers loftily and then laughs softly at the look Tseng gives him. "Cultivation is never complete. It doesn't have an end goal. It is a process and a journey - one you dedicate your whole life to."

"... During which you get more and more advanced in your abilities?" Tseng asks, setting aside the chopped vegetables.

During the day he's noted two things. One, Sephiroth reacts best to direct, unambiguous questions. Two, he can't resist a chance to explain. The man had also relaxed immediately when Tseng began asking those questions - and began imparting information with much greater ease.

Tseng had adjusted his approach accordingly.

"Isn't that the goal of everyone who is in progress of learning anything, to get better?" Sephiroth asks and adds the washed rice into a pot, closing the lid. "Cultivation isn't exactly a sliding scale with set points of improvements, but yes, the more you practise, the better you get."

In other words, there's no such thing as being done with Sephiroth's new practice. If the man was given leeway, he'd stay here indefinitely, training and meditating. Hmm.

Well, it's good to know that there's definitely a way to remove the man from the volatile equation that is Shinra.

Tseng makes a mental note to procure a permanent and suitably secluded safehouse for Sephiroth, should the need arise, and then moves onto preparing the rest of the food.

Sephiroth watches him with that smug look of satisfaction he's had on for most of the day, and then asks, "Tell me, Tseng, what do they think of all of this back at Shinra?"

Tseng glances at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," Sephiroth smiles. "I know they have theories. I would like to know what they're saying."

Tseng shakes his head. "So that you can adjust your behaviour accordingly?" he asks pointedly.

Sephiroth huffs. "No, of course not. I just think it would be funny, that's all."

Tseng gives him a look, not believing a word of it. "One of the theories is that you have a case of confabulation."

Sephiroth blinks and then frowns. "What does that mean?"

"You have amnesia, you've forgotten most of your life - but not all," Tseng explains. "You remember some things and are subconsciously leaning more into those things. They take more space in your awareness and have higher importance. Your brain, unbeknownst to you, fabricates memories and knowledge around those few things, giving you a false sense of expertise in matters you probably only perceived peripherally."

Sephiroth looks taken back. "Like what?" he asks, sounding stunned.

"Home decor, fashion, Wutai martial arts, monster knowledge - tea?" Tseng points to the Wutai tea set, Sephiroth's most prized possession here, after his sword. "What little you remember you cling onto and wrap yourself around, to make it seem like you have a past, likes, habits, and preferences."

Sephiroth blinks at that, his brows arching, and Tseng adds, "Though you drank tea before, it was without such ceremony. You've expanded a minor habit into a full on hobby."

"Huh," Sephiroth says, sounding fascinated now. He folds his arms, looking at Tseng in a new light. "You really think that?"

No, not really. Sephiroth's new habits aren't just self-deluding mind-fronting in the face of his amnesia. He's far too well practised and skilled in them. It's not just the tea drinking - everything new he's doing now he does with an unnerving amount of prior knowledge.

His new talent as a teacher is the most damning of it all. It's not just knowledge - it's both expertise and experience. Sephiroth teaches like a man who's been doing it for years, who's had hundreds of students, and who both enjoys what he's doing and is very good at it. It's a mix of qualities that only time and practice can give you.

"I don't know what's going on with you," Tseng admits. "But I know it's not something you got from a simple Mako injection."

Thought he still isn't sure he'd call it necessarily Ancient knowledge. He's seen the things Aerith does without thinking, without effort, as natural as breathing. What Sephiroth is doing definitely takes effort.

Tseng still can't quite reconcile them as somehow being the same, with how fundamentally different they are. Though after today…

He's not so sure anymore.

Sephiroth hums, his expression going serious as he looks away. Then he shakes his head and offers, cheekily, "Tea, while we wait for the rice to cook?"

Tseng hums and joins him at the tea table, tugging at the knees of his trousers to keep them from stretching as he sits down. Sephiroth makes tea like an old Wutai master, pouring the first steep away and then pouring for them both.

The tea is, of course, perfectly prepared.

For a moment they're quiet, listening to the fire crackling in the stove and how the rice pot start to bubble.

"Are they really trying to recreate what happened?" Sephiroth then asks quietly, somewhat guiltily. "With someone else?"

Tseng considers his mood and then answers honestly. "Yes. With several others. Almost the entirety of the SOLDIER program has been tested for viability, though very few suit Professor Hojo's criteria."

Sephiroth's full bottom lip draws into a line. "How many are…?" he can't seem to bring himself to finish the question.

Tseng fishes out his PHS and pulls up the report. "There have been four casualties - SOLDIER Second Class Laxey Jansen, and SOLDIER cadets Mick Rowley, Dient Wreck, Justus Owley, and Gus Fusel," he lists, watching Sephiroth's reaction closely as the man's face tightens with discomfort. Tseng continues, "There have been a number of candidates in and out of coma, too many to list. And there's one case of brain death, cadet Cloud Strife."

The teacup in Sephiroth's hand shatters to a thousand pieces.

>:3c

#Fanfiction #ff7 #svsss #tseng of the turks #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

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leclsrc · 7 months

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hi auds!! it's my birthday today ;) i never send reqs i know you get a whole ton of them but if you ever got around to this- i think the f1 fic world has a very worrying lack of aus. so could i get a band!charles au drabble where he writes a song about reader and she hears it on the radio? any song you like. reader could be driver or something or connected to f1 if thats cool !!! thank you sm!! i love you

knee socks – cl16

There’s a certain inevitability that comes with having sex with a misaligned, conceited lead guitarist of a band. You aren’t aware of this fact until it hits you in-between your brows with the force of an 18-wheeler truck, at 8AM, through the radio in your car.

genre: drabble... lots of smutty allusions

auds here... happy birthday anon, one month and then some later! to be completely honest i almost deleted this... but through some twist of fate, it was the only thing i could bully into completion lol (aside frm long form fics that i'm still working on) this is 1000% for u and i hope u accept it as a belated bday gift :) i agree btw! id love to see more au fics but it is still nice reading the canon compliant type ones hahah. also the song in this and its and title is of course from this

It was surprising enough to hear an announcement of a new single by The Incident, one that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere, sans promotion. The morning BBC show clobbered the song with theories before finally letting the drawled-out, sticky guitar filter through and into your car. That in itself was odd, sure. Maybe shocking a little. But you leaned into the leather seat and remained quiet.

When you were fifteen, you were convinced the lyrics to Hall & Oates’ “Rich Girl” pinned up perfectly to your (insufferable) personality of the time. Raised in a big family and working in a career of refined prestige, your budding skill and already-cemented name in the modeling industry were just two small indicators of your parents’ massive wealth. Of course, neither Hall nor Oates were actually sitting and writing songs and singing about you—you just found it made sense in one way or another.

That was three years before you met Charles three years ago, at a pub in Soho. His band had only just spilled out of the confines of Soundcloud and seedy managers; they’d broken five million monthly listeners and the throng of people were there to watch them live. You were at the pub for a pint with another friend and left him with your number, a slip of paper tinged with beer; he fished out the nearest surface you could write on from a nearby bowl. Do I Wanna Know? it read in rushed cursive. It was a song request that went unfulfilled.

Rumors flew in your circle. Your father soured at the idea of you seeing somebody he wasn’t actively doing business with, but he failed to realize how limited your dating pool would be if you followed his wishes. Your interactions with the Formula One men he sponsored or worked with, however few and far between, were rancid and impolite. The drivers wore expensive brands, ones that didn’t even fall familiar on people’s ears, but refused to tip beyond three pounds. It came as both a shock and no surprise that the nouveau rich rock singer treated you with more decency than any of them did.

He was shy about it first, knowing how filthy rich you were. He made jokes about how his flat could fit in your kitchen twice over. He spoke what little French he remembered from childhood to impress you, paid for takeout, wore Lacoste when he came over to drink—then fuck—because it was, at the time, the most decent brand he owned. It’d been January when he came over, caught a sight of you at the foyer with all your expensive coats hung up. Your tongue was blue with a lozenge. It was the only thing he could look at while fucking you.

He wore a light blue variant once, fit and snug on him. You wrestled it off him in-between hot, sweet kisses, kept it on your bed so it’d be the first thing you tugged on in the morning before a shoot for a brand you can no longer place.

The last time you saw him he’d shown you lyrics, sang them aloud, drummed the beat he thought of on the skin of your thigh. His accent disappeared into rasp and notes. You told him to perform it live and he fucked you splayed up against your door, bent over your counter, then with your knees pressed to your chest on your white sheets, warm from the laundry. S’good for me, aren’t you, princess? All for me. My filthy girl.

Two hours later: I’m going on tour, sweetheart, he’d said while he cleaned you up.

’Til? Or… like, for long? Naked, you wrapped your blanket around your frame.

Ah, oui. For a while.

You failed to answer amicably, your eyebrows twisting. You didn’t think to tell me? Just up and leave then? No number, no text, no announcement, just— You exhaled tightly. You knew he didn’t owe you anything of the sort; the sex, you guessed, the company had been so good you’d deluded yourself into thinking so.

Kitten—

Don’t call me that, you huffed, angrier now. Petulant. You got up and crowded him ’til you got to the door. Get the fuck out.

You watched him leave, brown leather jacket and black tee disappearing into London, and wrenched memories of him from the depths of your brain, the two years of your back and forth rendezvous. You wondered why you didn’t get a song in that time, after his ascent to fame, after the release of other hit singles inspired by his bandmates’ gossip rags and measly shags.

So a year later, when the memories have just begun to purge themselves—when the lyrics, which already have sent a swoop through your stomach, progress into the line When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste… and your knee socks, you effectively choke on your a.m. cappucino. It’s like “Rich Girl” all over again, but this is overt, it’s targeted. Like whoever wrote it must’ve known you’d be listening right now, en route to a shoot at eight in the morning.

“All good, miss?” Ed, your chauffeur, meets your eyes in the rearview, concerned.

“Perf—” your voice cracks. “Perfect.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to collect yourself, zeroing in on the lyrics that’d been foggy before.

Curing his January blues—the month you two started sleeping together.The fact that he’d had your number, a famous stranger, before you had his. Every beat, every word, every deep-voiced lyric traces back to you (unless, of course, he’s busying himself shagging any other girl in London on rainy Tuesdays and letting her wear his now-old polos. The thought sends a pang of jealousy through you.)

But you know better. You know you’re the only one.

Because your phone’s the only one buzzing late into the damp night—when the zeroes line up on the clock by your bed, the one he fixed up for you—with a number you’ve removed the name of, blocked at some point, but can still memorize in his absence.

Maybe tonight you’ll pick up.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader #anonymous

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

Note

I can see cowboy having some tension within the team when he feels like his theories are going unheard and his opinion unvalued when they're all throwing ideas around. I feel like he'd gradually start stress eatin' more and more sunflower seeds until he runs out and just leaps up in the middle of spencer's long-winded argument after cowboy's suggestion has gone unheard by the team for the third time in five minutes he practically runs for the door because his allergies are about to hit fever pitch or he's gunna go smash some government issued coffee mugs.

This is right when you join the BAU, before everything.

Warnings: bad government knowledge on Atlas' part, I did try to google it but idk guys, trying my best here. Oh, also, stress eating.

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @anonstories08

"Perhaps the unsub's a teenager," Spencer theorises and you want to slam your head against the desk. Because that's what you've been trying to put forth for the last ten minutes - ignored each time.

Instead, you say nothing, just continuing to shovel the sunflower seeds into your mouth before you say something you'll regret. "We should have seen that sooner..." Hotch mutters.

'I did.' You think bitterly, letting a handful of sunflower seeds fall into your mouth.

"But why is he targetting these men?" Garcia asked. Whoever the unsub was, he was going round shooting men - never life-threatening, but clearly out for revenge of some sort.

"Maybe someone like them scorned him in his past," You say, Prentiss talking over you before you can get your third word out. You were gonna need some more sunflower seeds real soon if this kept going. How many sunflower seeds were healthy to consume in a day?

You close your eyes for a moment before trying yet again to reiterate your point. This time, though, Reid cuts you off with a long list of statistics about female offenders.

"I think someone in his past hurt him and these guys remind him of them." Morgan says and you realise you're out of sunflower seeds. You shoot up, knowing that you didn't have many options right now (what with your anger): 1, scream at them (not literally but close enough), 2, throw the closest mug at the wall (but these were government-issued mugs so that probably wasn't the best idea), or 3, get some more sunflower seeds to munch on whilst you try not to regret your entire life decisions.

You don't know if they've even realised you've left the room and you can't be fucked to check. Instead, you head on over to your bag, pulling out a fresh pack of sunflower seeds and open it before making your way back to the room.

"Everything okay?" Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes sir," You answer, "Ran out of sunflower seeds. Figured no one would notice if I left anyway,"

"I know you were part of hostage negotiation previously, but we work as a team here."

You look at him for a moment, debating saying something. On calling his bullshit because clearly you only worked part of a team here if they had accepted you as a part of their 'group' - which you clearly weren't in yet. You settle for a simple, one worded answer.

"Interestin'." You say before resuming the eating of your sunflower seeds.

"Excuse me?" Hotch asked, clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Surprised you heard me, Sir," You said, "That's all,"

"Is there a problem here?"

"You tell me," You answer, "You're the boss."

"We'll talk about this later. We have more important things to be concerned about right now."

You tilted your head ever so slightly in a small nod of acknowledgement before turning back to the bag of sunflower seeds in your hands as you listened to the team - seeing no point in joining in at this point.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #x cowboy reader #cowboy reader #bau x cowboy reader #x male reader #male reader #male!reader

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janmisali · 1 year

Text

Number Tournament: Honorable Mentions

well, you've all asked for it, and I guess there's no point in waiting any further now that round one is almost over. here's some highlights from the numbers that didn't get enough nominations to make it into the tournament. (as you can work out from looking at how many nominations the numbers that made it into the tournament got, my cutoff was seven nominations, which left room for me to hand-pick three numbers that only got six to fill in the bottom seeds)

six nominations

these are the numbers that were the closest of all to making the cut. in the end, I picked ten, Rayo's number, and omega to fill in seeds 62-64, but four other numbers got six nominations but didn't make it:

25: perfectly fine square number. notably funnier than 24

81: another square. I only wanted one "boring normal integer" for the bottom seeds and like come on it had to be ten.

5040: Plato's favorite number, a very fun one

42069: both 420 and 69 already made the cut, so this would have been excessive

and now for some miscellaneous fun ideas that not enough people suggested to make the cut!

cool math things

c (the speed of light) could have been a strong contender, but physics fans were pretty much universally putting their efforts behind the fine-structure constant and the Avogadro constant, leaving other universal constants behind

the Euler-Masceroni constant got five nominations super early on in the process, some of which were even intentional (there are so many things named after Euler but I made the call that people who said "Euler's constant" without specifying were talking about this one) but never got any further than that

a lot of infinite ordinals more interesting than the standard omega were in the running, but given that omega itself only barely made it in, numbers like omega to the omega power never stood a chance. of course, given how well omega did in round one maybe those other bigger infinities could have held their own if only more people suggested them before the tournament began

Not a Number's presence in the tournament is I think very fun, but other floating point things were also nominated, just not as frequently. negative zero was a fun one, as are the handful of nominations for just slightly-off multiples of one tenth

besides star, a lot of game theory not-really-number numbers had a few fans supporting them, such as dud (deathless universal draw), a couple of tiny numbers, and one suggestion for {69|420}

meme numbers

fans of boobs were split between 80085, 58008, 8008135, and 5318008, so none of the boob numbers made it individually

perhaps even more disappointingly, only five people suggested 1312

1337 is a super dead meme so that one being unpopular isn't as surprising. but then literally nobody suggested 9001? weird!

the AACS encryption key (an illegal number) only got a handful of suggestions, which is a shame because that's a really fun one

only three people suggested "your credit card number" but if it made it past the cutoff I 100% would have put that in the tournament

meta jokes

a few people suggested variations of "the number that wins the tournament", which I think is a funnier meta joke than either of the ones that actually made the cut

a couple people also did versions of "the sum of all other numbers in the bracket" (or "all other numbers people suggested in this google form"), with a couple people who said that also thankfully adding in some conditions to only include numbers where you can actually do that

a couple people have asked me what the smallest natural number was that nobody suggested, and unfortunately (by which I mean I love this) I can't answer that because a couple people suggested "the smallest natural number nobody else suggests"

another fun one was "the number of notes on this tumblr post", which only one person suggested

three separate people did "five (the word five not the number)", "5 (the symbol not the number it represents)" and "V (the roman numeral)" (looking at them all together it kinda looks like this was the same person all three times but that's because I'm paraphrasing all of them)

googologisms and otherwise big numbers

shockingly, the famously large numbers googol and Graham's number didn't get nearly as much support as the googologisms that made it to the bracket

five people suggested numbers in the Busy Beaver sequence, but none of them suggested the same Busy Beaver number

there were also things like "the smallest counterexample to the Collatz conjecture", fully hypothetical numbers

"zillion", "bajillion", and "fuckton" got two nominations each, any of which would have been extremely fun to see in the tournament

other

a couple people just said "fibonacci number" which. do you mean like the whole sequence? maybe these should have counted for phi

two people suggested "a grizzly bear". I'm assuming that's a reference I'm not getting, because it's way too specific of a joke for two people to say that independently

there was one suggestion that was the coordinates to a restaurant in yemen called burger king 2

anyway there's literally thousands of these, and I have no intentions of at any point making a full comprehensive list of what people suggested, but I think this is a pretty good sample of what the nominees were like. there were a lot of really good candidates, but I think the 64 that made it into the tournament are a pretty dang good set of numbers!

thank you to everyone who suggested your favorite numbers, it was genuinely very fun reading through everyone's suggestions.

#number tournament #jan misali #math #mathblr

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soleilceirinen · 15 days

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The Portrait | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Thomas Shelby is your History professor at the university. One day he wants to meet you at his office and it scares you a bit. Definitely, you are not expecting to see what's waiting for you there. Modern AU.

Warnings: nothing.

A/N: this is short and maybe makes no sense but I just wanted to write something after not writing anything in months. Also, it's inspired by a real teacher I had, who kept a huge self portrait in his university office. It was horrible and funny at the same time.

Sorry for the English, it isn't my first language. There are probably a lot of mistakes but I don't feel like proofreading it more. Thanks for reading it!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

In the three years that you had been studying at the university, you had never been in professor Shelby’s office. Not even once. But there were rumours, each of them crazier than the next one. They said that one of the walls was covered by a bookshelf which actually was a secret door to access professor Solomon’s office, who some people believed were his secret lover. But that was nothing compared to other things you had heard, such as not going alone to his office if you were a young woman, just in case.

Of course, you didn’t believe any of this. Unfortunately, you had learned the hard way that sometimes people were mean and they would talk shit about others just out of jealousy, or self discontent. Some people had very sad and empty lifes.

It didn’t make sense to you because Thomas Shelby never messed with anyone. The man taught his classes and left, unlike other teachers who tried really hard to be friends with their students, he knew where to set the limits. He was serious and a good professor, one of the best you had ever had.

His lectures were focused on the first half of 20th Century History. Sometimes, Thomas would talk about World War I in a way that made you feel like he had been there, as if he were telling you all his memories.

On Monday you got an email from him. Your heart skipped a beat, he wanted to meet you at his office. The message was brief and concise, it just said that he wanted to talk to you, along with the appointment’s date. Now you were a nervous wreck. What did he want to talk about with you? You couldn’t know, maybe your last essay was so horrible that he wanted to say it to your face and see your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to push away all those thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal and you were creating a mountain out of a grain of sand. Besides, it made no sense to dwell on the suffering if you didn’t even know the reason why he wanted to meet.

It had been five minutes since you arrived at Mr. Shelby’s office. The only problem was that you couldn’t find the strength to knock on the closed door. You just wanted to put off the moment as long as possible.

"You can do it. Tommy doesn't bite, you know?"

The sudden presence of someone behind you made you turn around in surprise. You thought you were alone in the empty hallway but clearly you were wrong because Mr. Solomons was standing next to you, seemingly amused. After all, his office was the one next to Thomas's.

He was your professor too, although his lectures didn’t captivate you as much as those of Mr. Shelby. It wasn’t because they weren’t interesting, he specialised on Jewish History and cultural heritage, but the way he rambled was certainly disconcerting. Some days after leaving his class you weren’t even able to determine what he had been talking about since he liked to spill ideas that in theory had some kind of connection with each other.

“I know, thanks for the encouragement,” you replied quietly. He placed one of his large hands on your shoulder and gave you a friendly squeeze before walking past you, as he headed towards his own office.

Mr. Shelby's deep voice invited you in from the other side of the door. You entered slowly, fixing your gaze on the floor. He waited, sitting on the other side of the desk as he watched you with interest.

“How are you, Y/N?”

The answer died in your throat the moment you gathered enough courage to look up in order to meet his blue eyes. Mr. Shelby stared at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. You covered your mouth with your hand, the last thing you wanted to do now was bursting into laughter but you couldn’t take your eyes away from the painting.

Right behind him, almost covering the whole surfice of the wall, hung a huge portrait. It wasn’t a photograph, it looked like an oil painting on canvas. In it appeared Mr. Shelby, who was wearing the kind of clothes that men would probably wear back in the 1920’s, standing next to a majestic white horse. Slowly, your eyes moved from the painting to the man in front of you.

Who in his right mind has a painting like that in their university office? It was the tackiest thing you had seen in a long time. Definitely, not what you were expecting to find there.

“Y/N?”

Mr. Shelby's soft voice brought you back to reality. To the here and now. "Yes, good. And you?"

"Not bad. You'll wonder why I summoned you today," he said, as he rummaged through the piles of papers and books that littered his desk. You made a small noise of confirmation, so he continued speaking. "I really liked your last essay about the role of women in society during World War I. Have you ever been to France?"

You tilted your head to the side, for a moment nothing made sense. What did one thing have to do with the other? You kept looking at the portrait, as if the answer was painted somewhere there. "France?"

At your bewildered face, Mr. Shelby laughed softly. It sounded as if he were letting out a gust of air. His eyes shined gently, he seemed to be in a good mood. “Yes, the country. The university’s History department has been offered a student exchange with a French university. It’s only a week but in five days you can do many things. I was talking to Mr. Solomons and we agreed that you are one of our most promising students, it might be interesting for you to go.”

"Really? I don't know what to say..." you mumbled, your cheeks turning red and warm. You wanted to cry, or laugh, or both. "I've never been to France, I don't even speak French."

Mr. Shelby found what he was looking for. He placed a form in front of you and pointed his finger at it. "Think about it. If you decide to go, fill this out and bring it to me in a couple of days. It's a great opportunity," he added.

Nodding, you took the form and put it carefully between your notes so it wouldn’t get all wrinkled. “Thank you so much for considering me,” you finally said, truly grateful.

You looked one last time at the painted version of Thomas. His cold eyes returned an icy stare from above, with an almost cruel expression. He seemed so distant, like someone who no longer has anything to lose. It made you wonder, in the first place, the history behind the painting. Did he commission it? Why? Anyway, he could have hung it at his house, not there.

Before stepping out of the office, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. What you weren’t expecting was Thomas returning the smile back at you, but he did and for a brief moment, his face lit up. That face couldn’t be further away from the hard features of his painted version.

As you walked down the hallway you shook your head. So many nerves for nothing. It also infuriated you a little bit to think about all the shit people said about him behind his back, all rumours, since nobody ever mentioned the painting.

However, you had something clear. Despite the bad reputation that preceded him, you kind of liked Thomas Shelby. He had the most incredible pair of blue eyes and the worst taste when it came to decoration, but nobody is perfect.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #modern!tommy shelby #peaky blinders au #professor!tommy shelby #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #reader insert

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