#that first screen cap is STILL making me cry

[serotonins-stuff]

3am pregggy cravings

~BNHA

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♡︎ Bnha boys

♡︎ f!reader

♡︎ Sypnosis: You suddenly get strong pregnancy cravings in the early hours of the morning

♡︎ Includes : Bakugo, Izuku, Todoroki , Aizawa, Hawks

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(characters are aged up)

Bakugo

He shuffled in his sleep, while low grumbles and sniffles echoed from downstairs.

He guessed he was having a dream till the cries sounded way too real and familiar. He patted the space next to him, expecting to feel your warmth but it was empty.

He jumped up from his sleeping position in the warm blankets, shirtless and disheveled as he scrambled out of the bedroom in a panic. Concerns flooded his head but he had no time to stand and think.

Were you ok?

Why the hell are you crying?

He strumbled on various things in the dark, causing him to curse lowly but he moved on.

"Y/n!?" He half yelled, still hearing your sobs echoing through the house. The sound guided him to the kitchen downstairs, so he made sure to be cautious moving toward it.

He clutched a broom nearby, in case something bad was happening so he could prepare. Hell- he didn't even know why you were crying in the first place.

The kitchen was pitch black, although the pantry next to it was beaming with light. The alarm didn't go off which means you were safe.

He strolled into the pantry quietly and the sobs grew louder. He was temporarily blinded by the bright light but blinked repeatedly so his eyes could adjust.

And there you were, sitting cross legged on the floor while holding onto your big tummy.

"Shit-Whats wrong?" he rasped and squatted in front of you, holding onto your shoulders and looking over your features just to make sure nothing bad had happened to you.

"You hurt?" he asked and you shook your head no. "Is the baby ok?"

"Yeah" you cried. "The baby's fine"

Your face was tear-stained and your eyes a little puffy. The baby seemed fine, and you also seemed fine physically so what was the problem?

He positioned himself to sit behind you and placed his hands on your stomach from behind, rubbing it soothingly in hopes to calm you down. "Shhh," he cooed onto your nape softly.

Whatever he was doing seemed to work because, you had calmed down.

"This is gonna sound so stupid but-" you began talking "We don't have any of the food I'm craving!" You wailed in his arms.

Your husband's eyes widened at your mini rampage. He honestly didn't know where to start. "Listen I'll go get you some right now ok?"

He understood that your hormones were all over the place at the moment, so you couldn't control your emotions.

"I don't know why I'm crying so much over ice cream" you sobbed quietly "M'sorry Kat"

"Oi don't apologize for that alright?" He consoled you, still drawing soft circles on your enlarged stomach. "You've got our kid in there, and your hormones are all over the place right now"

He helped you up and guided you to the couch, wrapping a blanket around you and switching on the tv while he walked over to the door. " Call me if you need more stuff." he glimpsed back at you while searching for his cap.

He wouldn't want to be recognized by fans this late at night. Luckily there was a 24 hour convince store nearby your home, so he'd be back before you knew it.

He completed his look with a black face mask, not bothering to change out of his oversized tee and sweatpants.

"I'll be back" he stated, but before he left he made sure to glance at you once more to make sure you were ok but your eyes were glued to the tv screen.

He scoffed a smile as he closed the door and locked it. You had the spare key so it wasn't a problem. Off he was to the covience store.

He didn't take long, only about 15 minutes when the sound of his shoes and the opening of the door could be heard.

He headed over to you first thing and pulled out the food you've been craving the whole night.

"Thank you!" You beamed widely as you accepted it, already eager to open it. Katsuki exhaled a chuckle at your cuteness, flopping himself next to you on the couch and pulling out a tub of ice cream.

He brought another spoon for you in case you would want to taste some. You snickered at dramatic shows on the tv enjoying each others company.

Eventually Katsuki could feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He peeked to the side to find you snoozing peacefully, some ice cream smeared across your lips and soft snores pouring from your nose.

He sneered back the grin that wanted to appear on his face, giving your stomach one last rub before getting you cleaned up and heading to bed.

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Izuku

"If I can just figure this out" Izuku mumbled from where he sat on the bedroom floor, holding his chin while he stared at the various papers scattered across the carpet.

He knew that you were fast asleep on the bed. You needed the rest as your belly grew each day, nourishing the little bean inside of you.

A shuffle from the bed made him freeze slightly. He didn't want to make any fast movements that would wake you up.

Once you had stopped moving he continued, but as soon as he turned his head away you called out to him.

"Izuku?" You rubbed your eyes "You still up?"

"Um-yeah I just had some work I had to finish" He rubbed the back of his head. feeling a bit guilty if he were the reason you woke up.

"Did I wake you?" He stood up and walked over to your side, leaning down behind you to rub your back.

"No you didn't do anything I just-" you sighed, not wanting to sound silly by telling him that you were craving something at such an early hour.

"Is it the baby?" he asked with slight panic, pulling the blanket down so he could come eye to eye with your stomach.

"Well yes and no"

He raised a brow in confusion.

"This is going to sound stupid but I'm craving some food " you looked at him apologetically.

"Hey" he held your hands and you turned around so your body could face him.

"Nothing you say is stupid" he smiled At you softly. "It's completely normal to feel what you're feeling and I don't blame you because you've got a whole life growing in there" his hands made their way to your stomach.

You smiled at how reassuring he was. This is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place, he was able to make your troubles vanish just by flashing a smile.

"I'm going to drop some paperwork off at the agency anyway, so I'll get you some by the store alright?"

You nodded.

"Alright then, I'll be back soon" he placed a kiss to your cheek. "Do you need anything else?"

"I need you to eat it with me when you get back". You glanced at his tired features, he was working hard to make his agency successful but it was taking a toll on him.

He's more stressed than usual, and you only see him for a few hours a day because of his messed up sleep schedule. He promised that it would only be for this week, but it's only been 3 days yet you've been missing him like crazy.

He misses you too. He calls you everyday from work and sends a caretaker to look after you and the growing baby in your tummy while he's not around.

"Okay I promise"

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Shoto

He could feel you shuffling uncomfortably beside him. He was half asleep but woke up to check if you were ok.

"Love are you alright?" he rasped sleepily, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your belly. His hot breath tickling your neck as he spoke

"Yes I'm fine Shoto" you stretched your legs.

"Are you craving something?" He asked and you looked at him in bewilderment.

"H-how did you know that?"

"You were staring at pictures at it all day, so I figured you'd crave it at some point" he rubbed his eyes and yawned "You also mumbled it while you were sleeping"

You squealed in embarrassment, covering your face with the blankets. Could you have spoken about food while you were sleeping? You could barely even remember what you were dreaming about.

This only made Shoto laugh lightly, you had such a cute reaction and he just couldn't help it.

"I can order us some right now if you'd like?" You heard him shuffle towards the nightstand, and the light from his phone blinded you temporarily.

"What store is open at a time like this Shoto?"

"There's a twenty-four-hour convenient store nearby that delivers," he said nonchalantly, tapping away at his phone "Looks like they have more than enough"

He proceeded to buy so much of the item that it was out of stock. You scolded him for that but he didn't have much of a reaction

Eventually the items you were craving arrived and you sat onthe bed together, devouring them.

"You are so amazing" you groaned in delight, taking another delicious bite.

"Anything for you," he said with a half-full mouth, also enjoying the delicacy.

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Aizawa

"Shota" you whined, shaking the sleeping man next to you.

"Hm?" he answered almost immediately, meaning that he was probably awake for the whole time this early hour. You knew his insomnia bothered him, but he refused to take pills or anything like that because of the side effects they gave him the next day.

"Trouble sleeping?" He inquired cuddling up to you.

"Yeah I'm having really strong cravings right now" you sighed into his chest. "Insomnia keeping you up again?"

He hummed an agreement at your question, It was a bit difficult to cuddle with the little human between the two of you, but you were excited that soon you could meet your cute little chunk. Who hopefully won't cry throughout the night and keep you awake. You heard a conspiracy theory once that children could inherit that from their parents.

"Did you cry a lot as a baby?" You asked suddenly, playing with his hands that lay on your stomach.

"Never let my parents sleep a wink" he huffed, recalling the stories his mom would tell him. "My mom often called me the pub crawler"

You snickered loudly at that name "Pub crawler....seriously?"

You went silent and he knew you were up to no good "Don't even think about calling me that" he cut your thoughts off.

"You're no fun Shota"

"How would I take you seriously if you called me a pub crawler?" He deadpanned.

"I think it suits you considering you're up at this hour"

"Then I'm calling you a incubator"

Now it was your turn to deadpan. "On second thought I think Shota suits you better"

Shuffles could be heard from him when he slowly arose from your intertwined position on the bed. You pouted your lips at the sudden emptiness next to you.

"Maybe I could get some sleep if I get some fresh air outside" he rasped slowly, stretching as he put on his shoes "I'll go get your cravings from the store nearby"

"Let me go with you" you also sat up from your position but he halted you, placing the blankets nice and snug around your body while a chuckle of amusement left his lips.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you need to rest"

"Party pooper as always" you rolled your eyes.

"I won't be long" he stepped out of the room, stopping in the middle of the doorway to wait for your reply.

"I'll see you then pub crawler" you smirked sheepishly before he breathed a chuckle and swiftly closed the door.

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Hawks

He had never panicked so much in his life.

He didn't even have time to think when he jumped out of bed shirtless with pajama shorts. Your soft sobs echoing in the living room downstairs. Luckily his feathers sensed your discomfort and that's what woke him up.

He jumped down the staircase gracefully, his wings making it possible for him to land softly.

His eyes caught your figure, sitting on the couch while the tv playing in the background. He walked up to you slowly, calling your name to not scare you by suddenly appearing.

"Keigo?" You sniffled and the couch dipped slightly next to you from his sudden weight. He hooked his arm under your legs from where he sat beside you, his other arm gently making its way to your back. You couldn't feel a thing when he lifted you into his arms. Cradling you on the couch as he also tried to figure out what was going on.

He smiled softly, sensing that it was just your hormones making you feel this way. "Is nugget keeping you awake?"

You nodded your head pointing to the tv. At first, he didn't understand what you were implying till he saw delicious food being made and eaten on the screen.

"Ah I have just the trick" he yanked out his phone, typing for a while before placing it down. "It should be here in about 20 minutes Peach"

He was expecting to see you smile and thank him for being the greatest lifesaver ever but was surprised to see tears still spilling out of your eyes as you looked away.

"C'mon talk to me" he clasped your chin so you could look at him.

The truth was that you felt bad for waking him up at such an early hour just for some food. You know very well that he has work tomorrow and he has to be up early.

"Keigo, I feel bad" you whimpered. For some reason, having a baby was making you cry at every single inconvenience. "I know you must be really tired from work and I'm over here ruining your sleep schedule for cravings"

"You have nothing to be worried about, you're waaayyy more important than work," he said making sure to exaggerate the way. "And if anything you're doing me a favor, I haven't been getting much food in because of everything that's been happening lately, so thank you"

He made sure to order some for himself so you could enjoy it together. Spending time with you and nugget makes him feel unstoppable.

"Being with you and nugget gives me extra strength to face the next day." He pecked you on the lips.

"I also think that your cravings might have affected me 'cause now I'm hungry" he deadpanned and giggled slightly.

He would do anything if it were to see that sweet smile all the time.

#anime and manga #my hero headcanons #mha x reader #bnha deku #izuku midoria x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #pro hero hawks #hawks x reader #aizawa x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #mha oneshot #oneshot #my hero acedamia #plus ultra #fypage #mha fluff

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#natalie wood #judy garland #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

[babydollmarauders]

MEDDLE ABOUT — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

summary: in which Nico hooks up with the girl he can’t stop thinking about… his teammates best friend.

warnings: NSFW!!, oral (f receiving), p in v, captain kink, praise, not proofread.

notes: LOOSELY inspired by Meddle About by Chase Atlantic. i mean extremely loosely. like, you’d only know it’s inspired by it if you know the lyrics to the song pretty well. (7k words)

when i agreed to visit John for a couple days, i knew it meant meeting his teammates.

that was the deal; i fly to Jersey, John picks me up, and we go to a bar with a few of his teammates.

the guys were sweet. lovably stupid, but they were hockey players so i wasn’t expecting much different.

i had met Jack first, who was already waiting for us at the bar. he was nice, telling me stories of everything i’ve missed while John is away from me, and he was funny in a blunt way. but most importantly, i could tell he cared for my best friend, so i took to him well.

then was Dawson, who showed up merely a couple minutes after the agreed upon meeting time, yet still profusely apologized for being ‘late’. his smile was contagious, his demeanor reminding me of a golden retriever, and he had greeted me with a hug; treating me as if i was just one of the guys.

and then there was Nico.

the quoted ‘most responsible’ of the group had burst into the bar nearly forty-five minutes late, citing his reasoning as having decided to take a nap but his alarm never went off because his phone decided to restart. his eyes were still noticeably a bit bleary with sleep, and his voice was deep and scratchy, still warming up from lack of use during his nap. his accent was thick, and at first, i honestly couldn’t be sure what he was saying, but the boys had obviously been around him enough to get used to the accent, nodding along to his words and reassuring him that it was all good.

then he turned to me, and i could’ve sworn i could melt right then and there. big brown eyes that captivated me, staring straight into mine. well-groomed stubble graced his jaw, and my personal weakness; thick, pronounced eyebrows to top it all off.

i had seen him on my tv screen, any time i watched one of John’s games, but he was so much more attractive in person.

“Cap, this is my best friend since high school, y/n.” John grins, slinging an arm around my shoulder. Nico’s eyes flicker over to John before settling back on me, a smile spreading on his lips. “y/n, this is our captain.”

“well, hi captain.” i tease, outstretching my hand. a red flush paints across his face and he takes my hand in his.

“you can just call me Nico.” he chuckles, shaking my hand. “sorry again that i’m late.”

“no worries, Nico. these three have been very good company.” i assure him.

“i’m gonna go grab a beer.” he announces. my eyes dart to my now empty beer bottle and i stand from my seat.

“i’ll join you.” i tell him. “i need another.”

i follow behind him at a safe distance, navigating my way through the slightly crowded bar, but when Nico glances back and sees me struggling to push through a group of drunken men, his hand finds mine, pulling me with him.

“oh-” i let out a squeak of surprise at his gentle grip, and he squeezes my hand lightly. “thank you.”

we reach the bar and our hands drop, mine now gripping the edge of the wooden counter.

“no problem.” he shrugs, facing me as we wait for our turn with the bartender. “so, you’ve known John since high school?”

“i was a ninth grader in tenth grade algebra.” i nod. “he tore into the teacher for making me cry after i got dress coded on the second day for my shirt being too low cut.

“John insisted that it was misogynistic. he came to school the next day wearing a t-shirt that he had cut down into a low cut v-neck and then proceeded to rant about how much of a double standard it was that the teacher didn’t dress code him for it but dress coded me.”

Nico grins softly as i look over the crowd at John, a faint smile playing on my lips.

“sounds like him.” he chuckles. “always looking out for people.”

“he has a big heart.” i nod, turning back towards him. “he says i’m part of his ‘personal team’. i’m not sure what exactly that means, but i know it means he looks out for me. i’m really grateful for him.”

“sorry we kinda stole him from you.” Nico cringes but i laugh, shaking my head.

“nah. he was bound to go somewhere, i’m just glad it was here.” i look back at John, watching him laugh at something Jack said. “he’s happy here.”

“so are you guys…” Nico trails off, and my head whips around, eyes wide and my lips parted. i know exactly what he’s insinuating, it’s the same thing everyone thinks when they meet John and i together.

“no.” i shake my head abruptly. “never. he’s like my brother.”

“oh, okay.” his eyes scan my face, and when i turn to look at the bartender as she approaches, i can see him out of the corner of my eye, his eyes trailing down my body.

i smirk as he bites his lip, while i order two beers from the bartender.

“so, you’re… how old? twenty-six?” he questions.

“twenty-four.” i correct him. “i’m a year younger than John and i haven’t had my birthday yet.”

“so we’re the same age.” he nudges my shoulder with his, grinning down at me.

“for about another week, yeah.” i tease.

the bartender returns with our beers and Nico hands her cash, covering he and i’s drinks before i can get my card out.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shrugs before winking at me. “consider it an early birthday gift.”

“wow, a $5 beer! how lucky am i?” we laugh as we make our way back to the other three guys, Nico’s hand finding mine again amongst the crowd.

“y/n, there’s a surprise coming on the juke box.” John smiles, his missing tooth on full display.

“oh Johnny, did you lose your fake again?” i sigh, setting my beer on the table.

it’s an often occurrence that he takes the fake tooth out when he gets tipsy, losing it most times.

i ready myself to have to drop to the ground and find it, but he shakes his head, patting his pocket.

“nope! right here!” he grins, his chest puffing with pride. “ya proud of me?”

i giggle, patting his shoulder. “i am, Johnny. look at you, being responsible.”

the guys laugh, chirping him for the coddling that comes from me, but he waves them off.

we sit around at the table, the guys telling me all sorts of stupid stories from pre-games and even post-game celebrations.

i laugh as Jack tells me that his brother was supposed to come, but ended up staying home to watch a movie, and i defend Luke’s choice, saying that sometimes you just need some alone time.

it’s about twenty minutes later that a song starts playing throughout the bar, and my eyes meet John’s, who smirks at a job well done.

“oh Johnny, dance with me!” i hop up from my seat, stumbling slightly but Nico steadies me from his spot beside me.

“hell no.” John laughs, shaking his head.

“pretty please!” i plead, rounding the table and laying my hands on his shoulder. i give him the best puppy eyes i can manage, my lashes fluttering. “i’ll be your best friend!”

“you already are my best friend.” he cackles, shooing me away. “there’s no chance that i’m dancing in a bar not even meant for dancing.”

i pout, lightly kicking his shin, to which he just rolls his eyes and shoos me away.

“i’ll dance with you, y/n.” the thick accent that reaches my ears has me swiveling around to face Nico.

“you will?” i ask excitedly.

he nods, rising from his seat and holding out his hand to me. i grasp it in mine, pulling him towards an empty spot not far from the table. whilst doing so, i turn my head to look over my shoulder, sticking my tongue out at my best friend.

“go cap!” Dawson calls out, and Nico’s face flushes red as he holds onto my hips. my body is pulled against him, my hips grinding against his to the beat of the song.

“keep it PG-13, you two!” John levels me warning glare, his brows raised to show me he means it, but i wave my hand at him dismissively.

“he’s just boring, don’t listen to him.” i call out to Nico over my shoulder, and he lets out a strained hum in agreement.

i can feel him hardening against me as my hips sway along his crotch, but all i do is smirk, slowing down my pace in order to make it a little more sensual.

i look over at the table to find the guys attention no longer on us, instead joking amongst themselves once again. glancing over my shoulder, i look up at the Devils captain, an innocent expression drawn across my face.

“how am i doing, cap?” i whisper and his heavy lidded eyes find mine.

“doing great, schatzi.” his words are whispered in my ear, his hot breath fanning across my neck and sending a shiver down my spine.

i make a mental note to try and google translate the nickname when i get back to John’s tonight, but lord knows if i’ll remember.

the song ends and a new one begins, this one less sexual and more of a love song.

i twist in Nico’s grasp, facing him and resting my arm up on his shoulder, my hand toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. our bodies sway a little, back and forth.

“you’re pretty good looking, for a hockey player.” i hum, and he chuckles, his grip tightening on my hips.

“is that a compliment?” he teases.

“mhm. you even have all your teeth… from what i can tell.” he laughs again, nodding softly.

“i do.”

“pretty sexy.” i shrug.

“well, that’s a pretty low standard of sexy.”

“i’m an easy girl to please.” i wink up at him before untangling myself from his touch, walking back to the table with a new bounce in my step and a sway in my hips.

“you have fun out there?” Jack wiggles his eyebrows as i sit, and i glance over to make sure John isn’t listening before i reply.

“your captain- he’s single?”

Jack’s head tips back in laughter and i blush in embarrassment.

“yeah, he’s single. too focused on hockey for a girlfriend.” he finally responds before his lips press shut. my brows furrow for a second before Nico settles back down in his spot beside me.

“what are we talking about?” Nico raises his beer bottle to his lips, raising a brow at the hush that fell at his arrival.

“hockey!” Jack exclaims at the same time as i say “music!”

“hockey music!” Jack tries to drunkenly cover and i let my forehead fall into my hand at his stupidity.

“…hockey music?” Nico questions suspiciously, his eyes darting between Jack and i.

“big thing in Canada.” Jack nods. “you wouldn’t know, being from Switzerland and all.”

“…right.” Nico nods, and Jack throws me a horribly hidden thumbs up, but anyone who isn’t as drunk as Jack is can tell that Nico didn’t buy the lie for a second.

“y/n!” i turn at the sound of my name, finding John staring at me in waiting. “you ready to go? i need a shower.”

it’s then that i notice the new stain of beer all along his chest, his shirt sticking to his skin, and i laugh.

“yeah, let’s go, Johnny.” we bid goodbye to the guys, assuring them that we’ll see them tomorrow at the game, before we head out of the bar.

i send one last fleeting glance over my shoulder to Nico, his head tipped back in laughter and his hand clutched over his chest at something Dawson said.

“ya know, he’s not interested in a girlfriend.” John mutters on the walk to the car, simultaneously pulling his keys from his pocket and handing them over to me.

“what?” i feign innocence, helping him into the passengers seat. his six beers compared to my two that i had been nursing all night really took a toll on him.

“i just don’t want you to get hurt, rosie.” he pinches at my cheeks as i buckle his seatbelt and i roll my eyes at the nickname that’s stuck since high school.

John always did find it hilarious that i, as a 14 year old girl, always blushed when any older guys talked to me. including him, before we got so close.

“i’ll be okay, Johnny.” i assure him, closing the door and rounding the car.

it’s silent as i buckle up and start the car.

“as long as you know what you’re doing.” John holds his hand out and i take it in mine, allowing him to press a kiss to the back of it. “you’re my best friend, i just don’t want you to expect more from Nico and then get upset when he doesn’t give it.”

“John,” i sigh, pulling my hand away so i can put both on the steering wheel, starting en route to his apartment. “i’m not in the market for a boyfriend. especially not a long distance one. i’m just.. having fun.”

he nods in understanding and one corner of his mouth pulls up slightly. “yeah, me too. i like fun.”

i bark out a laugh, hitting his arm jokingly. “yeah, i know you do. mr. ‘if i leave with a girl tonight, can you stay at Jack’s?’”

he huffs at my interpretation of his voice.

“i love you, but i’m not letting you cock-block me.” he shrugs, crossing his arms.

“well, look at you now. getting home drunk, with beer down your shirt, and no pussy.” i joke, parking the car in the spot for his apartment and turning it off.

“hey, i came home with pussy.” he defends, gaping at me in mock offense.

“none that you’re getting.”

***

it’s sunday evening, the day before i leave.

the guys won their game last night, 6-2, but alas, i got too drunk with Dawson’s girlfriend, Ryleigh, to end up going out celebrating with them.

but Jack, Luke, Dawson, Ryleigh, Nico, and John were gracious enough to agree to a 2nd celebration tonight, so that i could experience a Devils win celly before i have to return home to Massachusetts.

i stare in the mirror at the little black dress that adorns my body, holding up two pairs of shoes, attempting to decide between comfort and style.

John walks past the open bathroom door, glancing over as he walks past before backing up and staring. his eyes squint and his lips purse before he makes a decision.

“the heels.” he tells me. “but bring the flats in your purse, so you can change when your feet start to hurt.”

i nod, looking over at him with a smile. “this is why you’re the harvard graduate.”

he laughs, shaking his head as he walks away, and i follow behind him to the kitchen grabbing my purse and sticking my flats inside.

“i’m warning you now, you might need to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. or else you may not get much.” John winks and i roll my eyes, but my smile sticks to my face.

“sure.” i retort. “i predict that this’ll go just like friday night and i’ll be helping you stumble through that door by midnight.”

my head nods over to the front door and his cheeks turn red at the reminder.

“not happening.” his head shakes as he grabs a water from the fridge. “i’m staying hydrated and i’m limiting myself to two beers.”

“i’m sure you are, Johnny.”

he crinkles his nose at my response before heading towards the door. “c’mon or we’ll be late.”

i rush behind him, half hopping as i pull my heels on my feet.

“slow down, i have heels on.” i whine but he just laughs.

“and little legs.” he snickers, earning a smack on the back for his comment. “ow! okay, sorry! jeez, you ever thought of playing baseball with an arm like that?”

“i’ll leave the sports playing to you. i’m good on the reporting side.”

John points towards our uber as we step outside the apartment building, pushing me towards it with a hand on my mid-back. he opens the car door and motions for me to slide in first before he joins me in the back seat.

the car ride is relatively fast, and just how i like it; quiet. our driver doesn’t attempt any small talk and John and i sit on our phones, occasionally showing each other a meme and making the other let out a silent puff of laughter. the driver bids us goodbye when we arrive to the club, and John walks straight up to the bouncer, telling him our names and allowing him to check the list to see that we indeed have a table rented.

Dawson, Ryleigh, and Nico are already there when we arrive, nursing beers. the two guys are discussing a bad play that occurred at last nights game, Ryleigh sitting idly beside her boyfriend with her chin in her hand and a mildly bored expression, but much to her delight, they drop the discussion when we arrive.

Dawson hops up from his seat, dapping up John before greeting me with a hug, Ryleigh pushing him from my arms as soon as he begins to pull away.

“thank god you’re here! i love hockey, i mean, i played it, but there’s only so many times i can hear the words ‘that play could’ve been prevented if…’ before i go insane!” she yells over the loud music, pulling me away from the table.

“let’s go get drinks!” she shouts and i allow her to lead me toward the bar, looking over my shoulder to find the guys sitting at the table, back to discussing last nights game.

Ryleigh and i push our way through the crowd of sweaty dancing bodies, stopping at the bar, and rather than waiting politely like Nico and i did at the bar, she waves down the bartender immediately.

“a martini, please!” she tells him, the attention immediately draws to me after she orders and my mind is left blank.

“uh, a tequila sunrise and a beer please. corona.” i sputter off the first things that come to mind and the bartender nods, setting off to make our drinks.

“two drinks?” Ryleigh questions.

“the beer is for John.” i clarify and she nods.

“so what’s up with you two anyways? are you like, together?”

“no. just friends since high school!” a look of realization settles across her face before her lips pull into a smirk.

“oh okay, that explains why Dawson was teasing Nico earlier.” i bite my lip at the mention of the swiss man that sits across the club.

“what do you mean? what was he teasing him about?”

“you.” she wiggles her eyebrows, but then turns to give a nasty glare as a drunken man stumbles into her back, pushing her into me. she spins back to me with a smile, after successfully making the man cower with just a look. “he was asking Nico if he was gonna take his chance with you. i thought it was weird, because i definitely thought there was something going on between you and John, but if you guys are just friends then it makes sense. so, are you gonna sleep with the captain tonight?!”

“well-” i’m cut off by the bartender, our drinks being slid in front of us, and Ryleigh tells him to put them on the tab for our table, which is under Jack’s name.

“did you just basically make Jack pay for our drinks?” i laugh as we make our way back through the crowd towards our table.

“he won’t even notice.” she waves dismissively. “now, what were you saying?”

i open my mouth to respond, but we’ve reached the table now, so i just send her an ‘oops’ look as she pouts.

“sweet, that for me?” John cheers, holding his hand out for the beer.

“no, this is for you.” i smile sweetly, holding out the cocktail and making his face drop. the guys laugh and i notice Jack and Luke have joined the table now.

“haha.” John deadpans. “you know i don’t do tequila. or orange juice.”

“yeah, you’re weird.” i crinkle my nose, handing him the corona and sitting down beside him, right across from the man Ryleigh were talking about minutes prior.

he looks so good. his hair is slicked back but not gelled, his facial hair cleanly groomed, and he wears a black button up. i can’t even see the rest of his outfit under the table, but i already know that it would make me instantly wet.

“hello, y/n.” Nico smirks when he sees that he’s caught my eye, his accent like music to my ears.

“hi, captain.” i’m grateful for the dim lighting of the nightclub, hiding the blush that rises to my cheeks upon being caught.

“did you like the game last night?”

“oh, yeah. i had a ton of fun, and you guys played great.” i reply. “it was nice being able to watch a game and not have to take any notes for articles.”

he laughs and butterflies dance in my stomach at the sound.

“maybe you should visit more often then.” he raises an eyebrow and i bite my lip, nodding.

“maybe i should.”

he seems content with my agreement, sitting back in his seat and tuning back into the conversation of the table. but i’m still entranced, watching him take a sip of his beer, his tongue gliding across his lip to retrieve a drop that clung to it.

i feel a nudge to my side and i see John smirking, wiggling his eyebrows as his eyes flick between me and his captain.

“shut up.” i stage-whisper, kicking his shin under the table. his face scrunches in pain, and jaw drops before he mouths ‘soccer’ and i roll my eyes.

i turn back around to find Nico watching us with an amused expression, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a smile, and i immediately flush.

“hey Ryleigh, wanna dance?” the blonde grins at my words, nodding excessively and untangling herself from Dawson’s arms.

she waits at the end of the table for me to meet her, locking arms with me when i do so, and we make our way to the dance floor, not too far from the table.

we sing along to the song with smiles on our faces, bouncing our bodies. this continues for a few songs before she holds my hand in the air as i lower my body slowly, grinding my hips in the air as i drop and then bounce back up.

my line of sight gravitates towards the table, locking eyes with a smirking Nico, who’s already watching me. i keep the eye contact as i grind my hips against the air, running a hand through my hair then letting it slide down my body. feeling confident, i send him a wink before i turn back to Ryleigh.

it’s not but a moment later that she grins, wiggling her eyebrows before quickly excusing herself to the table, and i’m left confused until i feel hands rest upon my hips, a body pressing against my back.

“were you a dancer at one point? or are your hips just naturally this fucking entrancing?” the swiss accent is whispered into my ear, his stubble scratching against the side of my neck, causing a delicious sensation to run down my body.

“guess it’s all natural.” my neck cranes to look back at Nico, making a point to wiggle my hips against him.

he groans, pulling my body closer to his, and i’m just about ready to let him have his way right then and there, on the dance floor where everyone can see.

“you gonna take me home with you tonight? or are you gonna let your chance slip away again?” i’m barely audible over the loud music, but i know he’s heard me when he smirks once again, his hands gripping my hips a little tighter.

“you know i’m not looking for anything serious. right, schatzi?” there’s that nickname again, and though i can’t guarantee, i know it means something good.

“and what makes you think i am?” i hum.

he chuckles lowly, his hand leaving my waist in order to tangle with mine. he doesn’t speak, rather pulling me back towards the table.

my mood deflates, believing that he’s decided i’m not worth it, but i’m mistaken when he holds out my purse, raising an eyebrow when i don’t take it right away.

“have you changed you mind?” he questions and i snatch the bag from his grasp, letting him lead me away.

i wave a goodbye to the table, who’s now chirping us, Dawson wolf-whistling and Jack calling out a ‘get it, Neeks!’. John is shaking is head, but his smile provides me with the comfort of knowing that he’s not actually bothered by me hooking up with his teammate.

i learn that Nico’s apartment is a mere ten minute walk from the club, and all ten minutes are spent in the quiet sexual tension that reverberates between us.

it’s not until the elevator doors close, that his lips crash upon mine; his hands on my cheeks, and his body presses flush against me, no space left between us. my spine arches, my upper back coming in contact with the elevator wall, but he just pushes me back further, our lips moving in sync.

the kiss is sloppy, our tongues exploring the others mouths and our hands tangled in each others hair, but it’s cut off quicker than i’d have liked by the doors opening.

he pulls away rather hesitantly, leading me down the hall and hastily unlocking his apartment door. he steps in first, holding the door open for me, and i follow after him.

i don’t get much of a chance to scan my surroundings before his lips are back on mine. my body being caged against the now-shut door. my teeth graze his bottom lip, his hands gripping my waist tightly. his kisses trail away from my mouth, now littering down my jawline and onto my neck.

my breathing is heavy as his tongue flicks across my pulse-point, his hands sliding lower to grab my ass under my dress, and i gasp as he nips at my neck, soothing the sting with a kiss.

my hips grind up to meet his but he steps back, his eyes meeting mine. his lips are swollen, and tinted with my red lipstick, and wicked smile on his face as he begins to lower himself to his knees. my hands drop with him, my purse hitting the floor with a thud, and his fingertips lightly graze down my thighs before pushing the hem of my dress up.

“is this okay?” my heart beats faster at his question, my head nodding in approval, and he accepts my consent, pushing my dress even further up my torso. “hold this.”

i obey his instructions, the satin fabric cool in my trembling hands. he knocks me off balance when he pulls one of my legs up, my thigh now resting on his shoulder, and if i hadn’t already been leaning against the door, i surely would have fallen.

his eyes keep contact with mine, peppering kisses up my thigh until he reaches my core. his tongue darts out to lick me through the lace of my thong, and a moan pours out of my lips, my eyes closing and my head dropping back against the door. my hands tangle into his hair, both to steady my balance, and to ready myself for him.

his hot breath fans over my pussy as he licks once more, and i’m unable to stop myself from grinding against his tongue, making him chuckle as he pulls back. i whine at the loss of contact, my eyes flying open, and i look back down just in time to watch him pull my panties to the side. his eyes flick back up to mine and i whimper when he makes direct contact with my throbbing clit.

his tongue swirls around it and i cry out in pleasure, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Nico.” his name falls from my lips like a prayer, and he pulls back making me pout.

“don’t go calling me by my name now.” my mind is fuzzy, my body alight with pleasure, and i wrack my brain to understand his meaning until it hits me.

i’ve been calling him ‘captain’.

“yes, captain.” i whisper, my voice sultry as i use the leg that’s hooked over his shoulder to nudge him back towards me.

he chuckles lowly at my neediness, but resumes his assault against my clit, flicking over it before dragging his tongue down to my entrance. he licks me like it’s his last meal, spreading my wetness around the area before and letting his nose bump against the bundle of nerves.

i shudder, my hands tugging against his hair while simultaneously pushing him deeper, and he moans against me, sending the vibrations straight into my core.

“captain.” my voice catches in my throat, i can feel myself getting closer to my orgasm the longer he continues, and when he sucks my clit between his lips, rolling it as his fingers prod at my entrance, i know i won’t last much longer. “i’m so close!”

he slips two fingers in, curling them and making me groan at the feeling of fullness. his tongue works against my clit as his fingers pump in and out, building that familiar feeling in my stomach, my hips stuttering against him.

“right there!” i squeak out as his fingers brush against just the right spot, and he takes the initiative to hit that spot a few more times, his pace speeding up. “oh god- i’m gonna come!”

with just a few more licks against my clit and the feeling of his fingers against my g-spot, my legs shake, my knees beginning to buckle as i release all over his hand and tongue.

he pulls away, rising to his feet and smirking at the sound that leaves my lips from the feeling of emptiness where his fingers once were. his hands now hold my hips to keep me upright, his chin and lips glistening with my cum, and i bite my lip at the sight.

“you taste so good, beautiful.” i’m sure that if my pussy wasn’t already throbbing, it would’ve started at those words.

his hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. i can taste my arrival on his tongue and lips, causing me to moan into the kiss.

he pulls back, his hand lacing in mine as he pulls me towards his bedroom, and it’s then that it sinks in.

i just got tongue fucked against a door.

i giggle at the realization, making him look back at me with furrowed eyebrows and a smile.

“we only met each other just the other day, but god, the way you make me feel.” he grunts out, as we enter his bedroom, turning us so i walk backwards, the backs of my knees hitting the edge of his bed.

“you’ve got me feeling some type of way too.” i smirk, pulling his lips back down to mine. his lips part and i slip my tongue past them, pushing against his own.

“i’ve never come that fast.” i whisper against his lips. “it was surreal.”

“i’ve never gotten down on my knees like that for a girl.” he chuckles. “always kinda thought that was a figure of speech when it came to guys, but when i had you there, it’s like it came naturally for me to just kneel down and fuck you with my tongue.”

i pull away with wide eyes.

“are you telling me that was your first time giving oral?” i gape and his head tips back in laughter.

“no! did it feel like it was?”

“definitely not.” my cheeks turn red and his hand cups my face, his thumb trailing over my blush.

“i’ve obviously given oral, just never in that position.” he clarifies. “it’s always been in bed, or the one time on the couch.”

i laugh at his scrunched nose.

“that one wasn’t extremely comfortable.” he confesses, his head tilting.

“i can imagine.” i joke before pulling his head back down for another kiss, tired of the small talk.

he sucks at my bottom lip, his hand sliding around my head to tug at my hair, pulling my head back.

“tell me what you’re thinking.” he whispers, his voice low and raspy. “tell me what you want.”

my eyes flutter, rolling back in my head at his demanding tone.

“i wanna ride you.” i confess breathily.

his touch disappears as he steps back, my eyes shooting open to watch as his hands magnetize to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from his pants. his shirt is next, unbuttoning it and allowing it to fall open, giving me the chance to admire his wonderfully sculpted abs. he pulls the shirt from his body before he unbuttons his pants, his eyes watching me as mine watch him get naked, widening slightly when he pulls his pants and boxers down.

his erection springs free from the confinement of his pants, the tip red and already leaking pre-cum. my tongue drags across my bottom lip, but he shoots me a warning look, reminding me that i can’t suck him off if i want him inside of me. and oh how badly i want that.

Nico walks around me, rounding the bed and searching in his nightstand before his hand reappears with a foil packet, the dim lighting of his bedside lamp glinting off of it. i watch silently as he sits in the middle of the bed, gnawing at my lip as he tears open the foil, rolling the condom on with a groan.

his eyes stare me down, his brows raising in waiting.

“i wanna see you undress now.” he tells me, shaking me out of my trance.

my hands tremble as i slip the straps of my dress off my shoulders, pulling my arms out and letting the satin dress glide off my body into a pool of fabric on the floor. i kick my heels off next, letting them fall to the wood and tangle in my dress, before lastly bending over to pull my my thong down my legs, stepping out of it and dropping it to the floor to join my other items.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” his praise gives me a boost of confidence, my spine straightening. “come here and then turn around.”

his finger curls, drawing me towards him, and i crawl up the bed to straddle his waist.

“i said turn around.” he reminds me, his hand coming up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

i nod, turning myself around so my back faces him, looking over my shoulder to find his eyes glued to my ass. i smirk in amusement, rolling my hips so his dick slides between my wet folds.

“fuck.” he groans, grasping at his base and tapping it against my clit, teasing me a couple times.

“please, captain.” i plead, my head falling forward as my eyes squeeze shut.

the head of his cock lines up with my cunt and i take the initiative to back up onto him, filling myself up with his length. i let out a breathy sigh in contentment as he moans at the feeling of my walls closing around him.

my eyes roll back in my head as i grind onto him, the pleasure wracking my body is intense and i can’t keep myself from crying out as he thrusts his hips up into me.

“that’s it, baby. scream it out.” he grunts, his voice tight. “let my neighbors know how good i’m making you feel.”

i bounce my hips, my hands finding his thighs to best support myself as i do so. his hands grip my waist so tightly that i’m sure there’ll be bruises there tomorrow, but i can’t find it in myself to care, the pleasure overtaking any kind of pain.

the room fills with the sound of his dick pumping in and out of my wet pussy, and the echoes of our moans. my breath shaky as i call out.

“yes, captain!” my words are breathy but loud, and he thrusts up harshly at the nickname. “oh my god!”

he taps my ass, pulling me off with his grasp on my hips, and rising to his knees, leaving me on all fours in front of him, before he slams back into me. my breath hitches, my arms giving out as he speeds up his pace but never relenting in his harsh rhythm.

my upper body presses into the mattress, my jaw dropped open as shaky moans fall from my lips, whimpers escaping every few thrusts when he hits a certain spot, my hands gripping the sheets as i buck my hips back into his.

“feel so fucking good.” he huffs, and i look back to watch his face contort in pleasure, his sweaty hair falling into his eyes. “like you were made for me.”

his hand slides down my spine, making me shiver and arch my back, his dick hitting in just the right spot.

the knot in my stomach winds itself tighter and tighter, like a thousand rubber bands wrapped around a water bottle, just waiting for it to burst. and i know i’m done-for when his free hand circles around to rub my clit, still a bit overstimulated from our previous activities in his apartment entryway.

“holy fuck.” i choke, my pussy clenching around him. his grunt reaches my ears and my legs begin to tremble. “gonna come! please, captain, can i come?”

“go ahead, baby. make a mess on my cock.” he hums, and that’s all it takes for my breath to catch, my face turning red as i reach my second orgasm of the night, burying my face in the sheets to muffle my sobs.

his strokes become sloppy, faster and less rhythmic. “fuck- i’m gonna-”

i nod my head at his choppy words, whispering a few resounding ‘yes’s before he stills, his hips stuttering as a low sound leaving his throat as he releases into the condom.

i squeak as he pulls out of me, pulling me up against his chest before flopping back onto the bed.

“oh my god.” i breathe, listening to him pant, my eyes still screwed shut.

“tell me about it.” he huffs breathlessly, squeezing me to his side.

“like, oh my god.” i emphasize, causing a laugh to push past his lips.

he slips out from the bed, discarding the now used condom in the trash can before disappearing into the en-suite bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth. he kneels beside me on the bed, cleaning me up before getting back up and throwing the washcloth in the bathroom sink and leaving the bedroom altogether.

my brows thread together in confusion, but i’m much too spent to follow, so i lie in the bed waiting for his return. which ultimately comes as he enters with two water bottles and my phone.

“this was going off in your purse.” he tells me, handing me my phone and a bottle of water.

i thank him as i check the device, finding three missed calls from John and a few texts.

___

from: Johnny Hockey 🏒♥️

whoops, sorry, forgot you were boinking!

___

from: Johnny Hockey 🏒♥️

you’re still coming home tonight though, right?

cause sorry to burst your sex bubble, but i’m not packing your shit and dropping by Nico’s at 8am to get you for your flight.

___

i let out a cackle at my best friends choice of words, typing back a response and letting him know i will, indeed, be going back to his apartment.

“John?” Nico guesses correctly, his arm snaking around my waist as i lock my phone.

“yeah.” i nod, allowing him to pull me tighter to his chest. “he wanted to make sure i was still coming back to his apartment to pack my stuff. plus, we have plans to get breakfast before my flight tomorrow and he was making it known that he would not be picking me up from here to do that.”

Nico chuckles. “so you’re leaving now?”

i feign offense, clutching a hand to my heart.

“trying to get rid of me so soon, Nico? right after we meddled about in these very sheets?!” i joke, and he shakes his head.

“nah, i guess you can stay a little bit.” he teases back, rolling his eyes jokingly and making me giggle in response.

“so…” i trail off, looking over at him. “round two?”

“wouldn’t this technically be round three?” he laughs. “you’re insatiable.”

i shrug with a cheeky grin. “just trying to make the most out of this night. i can’t guarantee when i’ll see you next.”

he smirks, hovering over me, his lips trailing kisses down my body, lingering on my tits.

“in that case,” he starts, pausing to let his tongue swirl my peaked nipple, successfully pulling a moan from my lips. “i can think of a few more ways to spend tonight.”

i bite my lip as i smile, one thought screaming in my hazy mind.

tonight will be fun.

#nico hischier smut #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nhl smut #nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3

[ferrstappen]

world champion/twins dad l Max Verstappen x reader

love note: HELLO LOVIESSSS! How are you all? it's been such a long time and for that I am so deeply sorry. To be honest it's not that I don't want to write because I've been dying to but for some reason inspiration just doesn't seem to come, but this request made me weak and awakened my mind a bit so I hope you enjoy it <3

i do feel up for little blurbs or scenarios if you want to come to my ask box and we can daydream endlessly <3

summary: the tragic chains of events before Luca Verstappen started feeling terrible. (dad!Max)

Mila & Luca Verstappen, age 6. Zandvoort.

Max warned Luca about the incoming rain the moment he noticed him shrugging off the official Red Bull rain jacket, favoring the tailored track jacket from the Dutch GP collection with his last name and dad’s number on the back, but of course his carbon copy complained, retaliating with things he learned in school, usually when it rains there’s clouds and it’s cold, and right now Luca Verstappen was seeing with his own two blue eyes the sun shining outside.

He repeated the same explanation when you told him he needed to wear his jacket.

“Your dad lived here, he knows the weather. Listen to him and out on the jacket,” you dictated before fixing Mila’s hair under her special Dutch GP cap.

Max shrugged before facing Luca, “You listened to mama, jacket it is! And I can’t be late so hurry up,” Luca huffed while grabbing and putting on the Red Bull jacket.

It seemed as if everyone was waiting for Max’s arrival to the track because the flashes were blinding, the tens listening to their papa when he told them to cover their faces. Knowing you wouldn’t be seeing much of Max today and taking advantage on the twins covered eyes you decided to leave a kiss on his lips, whispering congratulations on his full lips.

You grabbed the twins hands as Max made sure the cap covered most of Mila’s face and only showed part of her curls, but of course Luca still wasn’t convinced with the jacket.

“Papa, it itches,” Luca complained and you could still listen to the flashes and screams of your family surname.

“It’s a rain jacket, Luca. It’s not it itchy, and I am not requesting you to put it on, I am telling you to do it or I am going to do it,” Max never needed to change his voice or posture when reprimanding the kids, but usually his choice of words were enough to command the twins to comply.

That’s how you ended up in the Red Bull hospitality, with Luca running his hands through his hair after taking off the infamous jacket and letting the smell of caramel fill his nostrils.

Soon enough, stroopwafels were being served to the attendees, and especially everyone offering one to the Verstappen twins walking hand in hand, always supervised by you, or their grandmother, or their great grandmother.

"Mila, you can't say no to a stroopwafel," Luca told his sister showing off his dutch, especially since their Oma and super Oma were limiting English while in Holland.

"I am full so I am not accepting more food, Luca," Mila informed his brother as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"If you don't want them, give them to me,"

That was the first thing that went wrong.

The second one was when everybody was focused on the final laps before the red flag, your eyes glued to the screen and ears fully focused on Max’s radio. The perfect moment for Luca to take off the obnoxious jacket.

Thats when everything went wrong.

Max and you were woken up at the same time; head pounding from the celebrations and clothes thrown somewhere on the floor, but it didn't stop you from hearing your son crying while throwing up, waking his sister up in the process.

"Sweetheart, get dressed oh my God," Max said throwing you one of his shirts as he put on his discarded boxers before making your way to the twins bathroom.

You stayed with Mila, calming her down and assuring her nothing was wrong and his brother probably ate something and his body was reacting, while closely listening to Max comforting Luca trying to assure him he was going to feel better eventually.

You thought that was it, but of course it wasn't, because now neither you nor Max were sure of the headache was because of the adrenaline, the drinks or the lack of sleep from Luca's constant vomiting.

Gross.

But that was how you learned that it wasn't just the stroopwafels. The small version of Max Verstappen had a severe case of sweet tooth and didn't deny himself the flavors from his country with fresh poffertjes, a couple of pannenkoeken with sweet toppings, were on the top of Mila's head as you tried to understand how a six year old managed to fit so much food on his stomach.

Then came the fever and the dull pain in his ears.

The first thing you managed was to go back to Monte Carlo, at least that way he’d be sick on his own room and own place, where the older and more tired Jim and Sass would fall asleep on the feet of his bed.

For some miracle, the twins had managed to fall asleep during the short flight, allowing you to snuggle into Max’s side, who pulled a thick blanket on top to cover both your bodies, resting his head on top of yours while he enjoyed the relaxed motion of your fingertips drawing shapes on his shoulder.

“Max?” You softly pronounced his name, he softly groaned in acknowledgement. “When did we decide to have children?” You asked and Max laughed with his eyes closed.

He opened his blue eyes and left a kiss on you lips before he started falling asleep again, mumbling that maybe you two weren’t the best with decision making.

“Do you think we should leave M with the sitter and bring Luca to the ER?” Max questioned, this time it wasn’t your playful husband, it was the worried dad, the one who decided to leave his home celebrations, enjoying being the home hero with his entire family, the well deserved late nights partying after equaling Sebastian’s record.

“I’ll call the doctor but don’t worry, you have a couple of days to rest before Monza, and we weren’t even supposed to come back home so just enjoy the quiet days,” you kissed his temple. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Holland? You know I’ll manage with the kids,”

“Don’t even say that again, i’m sorry I didn’t keep an eye on him, he didn’t listen to me and didn’t use the fucking jacket and then ate his entire weight on sugar,” Max sounded truly disappointed in himself.

“Are you going to make me tell you that you were working and barely had a moment to take a breath? Don’t be stupid, honey,” you said and Max smiled.

“I love it when you tell me off but call me honey,” He dedicated you his best sleepy smile.

A car was waiting for you in Nice to take you home, Max getting ahead of you and calling the twins doctor, and of course as soon as he saw the pale looks of the usually flushed Luca, his droopy eyes and constant shivering, he gave him some medication and gave the very stern order: no flying for Luca Verstappen until his ear infection was gone, meaning the plans for your family to go to Monza were postponed until further notice.

Little did you know that Mila was already plotting the tears to attend Monza, regardless of his brother’s illness.

#max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #max verstappen au #dad!max verstappen

[s0urw00lf]

Stiles Stillinski: The Best friend

Stiles stillinski x fem!reader

Summary:

Stiles and stiles are the best friends.

Also just to be clear I know that the true meaning behind this song is, I just heard that one clip and got an idea.

(Stiles in a backwards cap>>>)

I’m just the best friend in Hollywood movies, who only exist to continue the story.

The pack had made plans to go bowling, and didn’t think to tell stiles and y/n who were sitting at home trying to solve one of their most recent supernatural problems. Y/n sighed “where the hell is Scott?” She asked impatiently. The pair had been waiting on him for about 45 minutes. Stiles shrugged and asked “should I call him again?”. Y/n shook her head “no, we’re gonna go over to his house and see what the hell is up” she said standing up. Stiles didn’t object following close behind her. when they arrived at Scott’s, stiles rang the door bell. Not 10 seconds later the door opened to show an out of breath Melissa. “Stiles, y/n? What are you doing here why aren’t you with the others?” She asked. The pair looked at each other then back at her in confusion “what do you mean Scott was supposed to meet us an hour ago to talk about the recent “drama”” stiles said. Melissa seemed taken aback “guys, the others are at the movies” she said. y/n looked at stiles shocked while he just stared at Melissa in seemingly stunned. “Okay, thanks” y/n said grabbing stiles and dragging him to the Jeep. Tears stung at y/ns eyes and stiles looked like he had just been betrayed. Y/n grabbed his hand making him look at her. She put a smile on as tears ran down her face “I’m sure it was a mistake” she said the words trying to cheer the boy up but not even believing them herself.

The girl gets the guy while I’m standing off screen

Y/n and stiles watched all of their friends fall in and out of love wondering if they’d ever find that kind of connection, They both found comfort in each other since in the same situation. It was especially bad when they both lost their crushes to people that weren’t them. They sat broken, crying together and eventually healed together.

So, ill wait for my cue to be comedic relief

“I don’t know how to help you to help me tell you something that would help you if I don’t know it” stiles said to Scott’s dad who was holding him and y/n hostage at this point. He looked to y/n “you seem to be the more sensible one here, help me out would ya?” Scotts dad asked. Y/n looked at stiles who just shrugged and back at the tall man in front of her “see I would help you but… I don’t know how to help you to help me tell you something that would help you if I don’t know it” she said making the man huff in anger, discreetly high giving stiles who had a proud look on his face.

Can’t be too loud

“SHHHHH” echoed across the room while everyone looked at stiles and y/n who were just goofing around during the game.

Can’t be too busy, if I don’t answer now are they still gonna need me?

Y/n had gotten a call from Allison who had asked if she and stiles could help find the new werewolf that they had discovered to which y/n politely declined for te=he first time ever as stiles had asked her on a date. After that it took a week and a half for either of them to be contacted

———

“Hey stiles” y/n spoke up from her place on his chest. She felt his hum vibrate through his body. “Do you think our friends would care if something were to happen to either of us?” She asked. Stiles stiffened as if caught off guard by the question. “Honestly I’m not sure, I think they’d fight to find or save us but not as hard as they would for each other.” He said sounding sad.

Not too long after that conversation void happened, Scott fought his hardest to get stiles back while y/n had sat with boiling anger towards the boy who had only just started caring for his “best friends” again.

#derek hale x reader #teen wolf x reader #derek hale #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #isaac lahey x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #s0urw00lf #x reader #lydia martin #allison argent #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles

[see-arcane]

Today’s entry is one of many that really drives home why I can never quite bring myself to get into softer ‘uwu he’s just misunderstood and sexy-liberating’ versions of Dracula. Just. I can’t. I really really can’t.

Up to this point, he’s already had a monstrous moment in bringing the ladies their first on-screen kids meal crying and squirming in its sack. He’s had outright predatory back-to-back moments in imprisoning, coercing, robbing, and getting increasingly threatening and handsy with Jonathan. This, capped with the fact that he plans to kill/drink/gift him to the Undead Girl Gang by the end of June.

‘But what about his, “I too can love,” huh? He’s just loving as best a monster can! He could be tearing everyone around him to ribbons for annoying him, Brides and Jonathan included! Instead he goes out of his way to feed the ladies, albeit gruesomely, and has no retort when they laugh at and insult the lonely old bat. And he isn’t planning to kill Jonathan. He wants to keep him! Sure, it’s a sick version of it, but to him conscripting and collecting Jonathan rather than executing him outright is the height of affection! Surely that’s grounds for some of the more ~romantic~ takes in warped gothic flavor?’

To an extent, yeah. 

But he also just dressed up in Jonathan’s stolen clothes to cover up for the man’s own abduction, imprisonment, and undeadifying, while also increasing the odds of Jonathan already getting mistaken for a vampire, bringing home another child for the ladies to devour, and then ordered a pack of wolves to eat a grieving mother alive for making noise at his gate.

And this? This is just the tip of the iceberg for how downright hellish he gets as the novel progresses. 

Dracula can absolutely be a nuanced character within canon, offshoots, retellings, re-imaginings, and so on. And he should be! He’s a very interesting bastard who’s got so much more going on than a few one-liners and a taste for good cloaks and yummy company. But his actual actions in the book--even the smallest ones--just automatically torpedo 90% of my audience enjoyment when I run into yet another ‘Oh, but he did it all because he was in love!/misunderstood!/depressed!/unfairly maligned by the eeevil human Victorian characters in their journals and newsprint and body count records!’ version of the Count. 

Even sillier takes that try to heroify him for kids like Hotel Transylvania just kind of make my brain trip and fall into a pit of ??? 

‘Look kids, Dracula is really a nice guy and a sweet dad who runs a fun little hotel for his misunderstood Universal Horror monster buddies! Isn’t he neat?’

It leaves me biting my tongue and holding this mental grimace as I think about the sacks full of weeping children, the slaughtered mother, a young man imprisoned for making the mistake of endearing himself so much to a sadistic monster that the latter has decided to keep him as a tortured toy and undead pseudo-slave for eternity, with an entire blood buffet of human cattle still waiting to fill out the rest of the novel with trauma, horror, and death. 

‘Ohhh, but look at Francis’ tragique sweetheart version who stole all his redeeming qualities from Jonathan Harker! Ohhh, but look at the funny silly Adam Sandler cartoon and his new everyman-settling daughter! Ohhh, but look at how #cool and modern-sexyedgy an antihero/villain he is when penned by every projecting director and their grandmother! Lighten up, it’s just a different interpretation!*’

*Of the character whose whole deal is psychological torture, being a predatory creep, casual murder, and worse-than-murder of innocents.

I know it skews me towards being a whiny purist. I know. Let folks have fun. I know. But still, it feels so wrong every time I see someone try to ‘awww, he’s not so bad!’-ify him in new media when. No. He is exactly that bad and probably worse. If he’s not, then that’s not fucking Dracula.

tl;dr: Can people just make some new fun/sexy/antihero vampires instead of stapling Dracula’s name on all of them? Can Dracula just be an interesting villainous monster again?? Please??? (Please save me Renfield 2023 and The Last Voyage of the Demeter, you’re my only ho--)

#ranting and whining this morning #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #adaptation #bastardization

[gleamingyu]

anti-hero.

part II of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swift’s midnights. part I

pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]

genre: angst. fluff.

warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). a bucketload of angst (i'm so sorry). light cursing. terrible knowledge of law stuff. so much crying yikes. miscommunication & misunderstandings. mentions of drinking and allusions to driving under the influence (do not do that ever!!). reader might seem a bit unlikeable in this chapter, but it's all part of the plot, okay?? she's trying her best. mentions of intimacy and sex (??), nothing graphic tho. slow burn. alternating povs. jihan as my lovely, beautiful, in love babies (yes they're a couple). some petnames (baby, babe). flashbacks are in italics. lower caps intended [if there’s anything i missed, please let me know!]

word count: approx. 8.1k (idk what happened)

notes: finally managed to work on my baby again. i'm sorry for the long wait but i had a lot of shit going on :/ thank you to everyone who showed love on the first part, i love each and every single on of you!! once again, likes, reblogs and comments are more than appreciated :)

summary: seungcheol wants to fix things; you want to avoid him at all costs. one thing is for sure, though. neither of you will have closure until you talk.

four months ago

the silence ringing inside seungcheol’s ears was even louder than the ambient noise of the restaurant he found himself in.

he genuinely couldn’t believe you were doing this to him again. the time was nearing 8 p.m., almost an hour later than when you were supposed to be here, and seungcheol was trying very hard to ignore the pitiful glances the waiters were not-so-subtly throwing him. he didn’t know what frustrated him more; the fact this was the seventh date you were clearly canceling on, or that you hadn’t updated him on your whereabouts in almost half an hour. if you weren’t going to show up, the least you could do is call and let seungcheol know you were gonna meet him at home.

home. funny how the word no longer brought a sense of peace in seungcheol’s heart.

just as he was about to get up and leave, seungcheol felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his pants, and his heart soared when he saw your name displayed on the screen. maybe you were going to make it after all, maybe you could still enjoy the nice evening he had planned, maybe…

“cheol… i’m so sorry.”

you were not coming.

seungcheol could tell from the apologetic tone in your voice. he didn’t even hear the next words that came from your end, whatever excuse you had to offer getting lost in the sound of his heart breaking. the grip he had on his phone was the only thing anchoring him in that moment, his eyes closed as he was trying to push down the tears that were threatening to spill out. he could hear you calling his name, are you there? but all he could offer was an “i’ll see you at home” before ending the call.

there was no part of you that was ready to face what awaited you on the other side of your apartment door.

the day hadn’t gone as you’d planned. you knew seungcheol had plans for the two of you that evening, so you had decided to wake up and go to the office earlier than usual in order to finish what you were working on in time for your date. but when you woke up that morning, you found seungcheol in the kitchen, diligently trying his best at making breakfast for the two of you. you melted at the sight of your boyfriend wearing your peach-colored apron – and nothing underneath but a pair of sweatpants – and you didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he oh-so-gleefully presented you with what could only be described as an admirable attempt at pancakes. moments like these were rare in your lives, with both of your hectic schedules and whatnot, so you sat down and enjoyed the warmth that came from the food, the sun coming in through the curtains, and seungcheol’s smile.

the sense of peace that came with spending the morning with seungcheol quickly dispersed once you arrived at the office and realized you were late, which gave your boss – mr. moon, a pathetic, greedy, and cruel excuse of a man who lived to make the lives of his employees a living hell – the perfect excuse to make you his target of the day. in addition to the case you were supposed to work on, mr. moon decided to dump on you stacks of paperwork that apparently needed to be taken care of by tonight, a task that normally a damn paralegal could take care of – no offense to paralegals.

normally you wouldn’t put up with this type of behavior. you weren’t raised to let people just walk all over you as they damn pleased. but around the office, there was one unspoken rule that everyone learned as soon as they started working here; ‘whatever mr. moon says, goes.’ besides, moon was the only person on the board of directors that could veto promotions in the firm, so until you could see the words senior associate inscribed under your name on the door of your office, you’d have to shut your mouth and take whatever was thrown at you with your head held high.

that isn’t to say that sometimes you wished mr. moon would get hit by a bus, ‘mean girls’ style. today had been one of those days, as the hours trickled by, closer and closer to when you should leave for your date with seungcheol, and yet mr. moon seemed to have a continuous stream of tasks that needed to be done, by you specifically. you realized you would never make it in time to see seungcheol, and so, tonight marked the seventh date you had to cancel because of work.

now, with the time on your phone reading 22:32, you were standing outside your apartment, bracing yourself for the talk you knew you were going to have with seungcheol. letting out a big exhale, you punched in the door code and let yourself in, the quietness of the apartment immediately enveloping you.

for a split second, you thought seungcheol might have gone to sleep already, but the faint sound of glass redirected you towards the kitchen, where you found said man standing by the kitchen island, nursing a glass of wine. you recognized the bottle mingyu had gifted him on his birthday that year, some fancy brand you’d never heard of before. as you stepped closer, the dim light of the kitchen finally illuminating you, seungcheol turned towards you, an inscrutable look on his face.

after four years of learning, knowing, loving seungcheol, you prided yourself in being able to discern what he was feeling at any given moment. but now, standing in front of him, you were scared to admit that you couldn’t read whatever feelings his eyes held. it made you feel uneasy, the way it seemed like he was looking through you, into you, and you wished you could come up with something to say to disturb the uncomfortable silence, but saying i’m sorry seemed redundant in that moment.

“a bit late, isn’t it?” seungcheol spoke up, and your heart clenched at the cold, almost mocking tone of his voice.

“i know, but i couldn’t get out faster. no matter what i said, my boss kept piling up my work and i just… i couldn’t. i’m so sorry… you know i wanted to come, more than anything. i really did,” you said, silently pleading that seungcheol would forgive you.

“i’m sure you did,” seungcheol gruffed, turning his attention back to the wine before him.

“cheol… don’t be like this, please…” you tried getting closer to him, but his body whipped towards you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“like what, exactly? angry? frustrated? sad? disappointed? i can be like that, actually, seeing as this is the seventh time in 3 months you’ve ditched me for work, apparently!” seungcheol spewed, making you take several steps back. your body tenses.

“‘apparently?’ what is that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, it just seems very unlikely that you’d have to sometimes spend more than twelve hours at work. i mean, you’re a lawyer, aren’t you? surely, you should know everything about workplace laws,” seungcheol bit back. he’s never spoken to you like this before, ever, the mockery in his voice surely aimed to hurt you. you felt anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach, but you tried your best to stay calm, for the sake of both of you.

“seungcheol,” you said, and you couldn’t help feeling a twinge of satisfaction seeing his eyebrows raise in surprise after hearing you use his full name. “if you have something to say, i’d rather you just do it, instead of insinuating it.”

seungcheol fell quiet for a moment, glancing down at his feet. “i meant it when i said i was held back at work, cheol. why would i lie about that?” you continued.

“for the past two years that you’ve been working there, you know i never once met any of your coworkers? i’ve never even stepped foot into your office, for god’s sake! you’ve been to my studio countless of times, you know the people i’m closest to, i’ve invited you to all the events the label organizes, so i just can’t understand! i don’t understand why you’re dead-set on keeping me away from that part of your life! and it makes me think… it makes me feel like i’m not enough, like you’re ashamed of me–”

“that’s absolutely not true, cheol!” you jumped in. you couldn’t even entertain the thought of seungcheol feeling self-conscious because of you, when it was the furthest thing you wanted. “i think you’re the most talented person i know, the most passionate, hard-working, smart… beautiful… i could never be ashamed of you.”

unshed tears were clinging to both of your lashes, heavy breathing echoing around the kitchen. how could you let things get so bad?

“it made me think there was someone else,” seungcheol breathes out.

the air gets stuck in your throat, the tears brimming in your eyes finally sliding down your face. “cheol… how could… there never was anyone! i swear, all the nights i would come home late, it was because of my work! i swear, i would never… you’re the only person that’s ever on my mind…”

silence fell over you and seungcheol, the words thrown between you slowly sinking in. seungcheol sniffled, taking a seat at the round table in the middle of the kitchen; you wished you could go to him, gather him in your arms, even though he’s too big to fit in completely, but you knew that this was probably the last thing seungcheol wanted from you in that moment.

“why don’t you quit?”

seungcheol looked up to you, the sadness in his gaze so intense it made you look away, knowing you’re to blame for it. “you complain so much about it… the hours, the work, the boss, the people. why can’t you just leave?”

you breathed in, thinking over seungcheol’s words. “because… because i love doing what i do. i feel about law the way you feel about music. it’s just the environment that’s shitty. but it’s something… that’s mine. and the kind of opportunities i got at this firm… people just starting out, like me, don’t come by them very often usually.”

there was a pause as seungcheol mulled over your words. a part of you thought, hoped, that the way the conversation was going would lead to fixing things, but then seungcheol spoke up again, and you knew. there was no fixing, not anymore.

“i was yours, too. and i would’ve never chosen music over you.”

“you say that now, but if you were put in a situation where you had to choose, i don’t think you’d have as easy of a time as you say.”

“i guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

and that was the end of it.

three days after your unexpected reunion with seungcheol, you find yourself back at PLEDIS, ready to tackle jihoon’s case.

the morning had gone on normally enough, with people coming in to give their testimonies regarding jihoon, his work and their relationships with him. as expected, no one had come forward with any potentially harmful or negative remarks about him, everyone applauding him for his tireless dedication to the label and the artists he worked with, as well as marveling at his seemingly innate musical talent and creativity. this was no surprise to you; having known jihoon for almost as long as you’d known seungcheol, you witnessed first-hand jihoon’s mastery of his craft, on multiple occasions. and now, with all the information you had gathered in the past three hours since arriving at PLEDIS, you were starting to feel more confident about winning this lawsuit.

initially, you had no intention of taking on jihoon’s case. the previous weekend, when mr. moon had called you in, you arrived at the firm with your mind set on demanding a break. in the past months, you might as well have changed your home address to the office, seeing as you had been working non-stop on one case after another, pulling countless sleepless nights and taking on extra paperwork as favors to some of your coworkers. and after finding out what the case was actually about, you were even more adamant about turning it down. but all the excuses you offered mr. moon were effectively shut down, leaving you almost begging the man to pass the case to someone else.

before you could use your past relationship with the other in-house music producer working at PLEDIS as an excuse, mr. moon delivered the lowest of low blows. “you know, a high profile case like this could attract lots of new clients for the firm… and put you right on the track for senior associate.”

there was no use arguing anymore after that. moon knew how much you wanted that promotion, and you were honestly not surprised to see him using it against you in order to force you into doing whatever work he wanted you to. so you shut your mouth, took the case, and then went home and cried.

yes, you cried. moving on.

seeing seungcheol again, and unexpectedly so, definitely set you a few steps back in whatever emotional healing you had done in the past few months. and it definitely made you doubt your own abilities as a lawyer. if you couldn’t put aside your personal feelings and instead focus on helping a guy who was being wrongfully accused, were you even meant to practice the law? but you had worked far too hard and sacrificed far too much to let these thoughts cloud your judgment and confidence, so you told yourself that even if you had to be in seungcheol’s proximity for the foreseeable future, your main priority was winning this case. for jihoon, and for yourself.

of course, planning to ignore the obvious feelings you still harbored for your ex-boyfriend was way easier than actually ignoring them. now, as you were gathering your things to meet wonwoo in the conference room he was stationed in, you were also mentally preparing yourself for the off-chance that you would bump into seungcheol again. considering how your luck’s been going in the past few weeks, you think the chances are pretty high.

walking through the halls of PLEDIS felt oddly familiar, and yet strange at the same time. when you and seungcheol first started dating, the label was just starting out, carrying all its business in a measly two-story building on the outskirts of town. you felt a tiny knot forming at the back of your throat, thinking how crazy it was to have witnessed the immense growth that seungcheol went through as an artist and a person, and now, to be walking amongst the fruits of the labor of his work, and so many other people’s, who built the label from the ground up.

as you grow nearer to the conference room where wonwoo was most likely waiting for you, you suddenly catch a whiff of a scent all too familiar to you. musky notes of jasmine and bergamot fill your senses, and for a brief moment, you feel an almost supernatural pull urging you to follow the indistinguishable fragrance.

you know exactly where it leads. but now is not the time.

before you can push the door open and walk into the room, your phone’s screen lights up with a text message. ‘hey honey. can you call when you have the time? she’s not having a very good day…’

you sigh, before dialing your mom’s number.

four years ago

seungcheol always smelled divine.

over the years, you’d heard so many of your friends go on and on about their boyfriends’ perfumes, and how once they found the right scent, they could charm the pants off of them with just the smell of their cologne. to you, that idea seemed entirely far-fetched, because, after all, people aren’t dogs. who in their right mind would base their selection of a partner on something as feeble as smell? even more so, an artificial smell, that didn’t even last forever.

clearly, since a few weeks ago, you haven’t been in your right mind, because you swore there was nothing better in this world than the way seungcheol smelled.

all your friends kept telling you that they’d never seen you act like this before. the honeymoon phase of your relationship had hit you pretty hard, and you were completely smitten with cheol. his smile, his eyes, his dimples, his laugh, his hair, his charm… and his scent, you couldn’t get enough of him. and now, as you were making your way towards PLEDIS together, you couldn’t help but wish you could nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and stay there forever.

it was your first time seeing where seungcheol worked. you had been wanting to see his studio ever since he had first told you about his job (and proved that he wasn’t one of those wannabe soundcloud rappers or whatever), but considering the label wasn’t exactly in a central location, getting there proved slightly difficult. not to mention that most days, your classes ran pretty late, and seungcheol shared his studio with jihoon, the other music producer at PLEDIS, which meant you couldn’t pop in whenever you had a window of free time, so as to not disturb them.

that night, however, seungcheol decided you deserved a break from your studies, and since your midterms were coming up, it might have been one of the last times you could afford to go out before getting swept up in the craziness of exam season. so after your last class of the day, seungcheol picked you up from campus and drove you outside of town, where PLEDIS stood.

“are you absolutely sure it’s alright for me to be here? i don’t want you to get in trouble with your… superiors, if that’s what you call them,” you said, walking up the stairs closely behind cheol.

“i already told you, it’s fine! besides, you’re not planning to steal any confidential information and spread it online, are you?” he teased, stopping in front of a door that you assumed was his studio.

“hmm, i don’t know… what makes you think i’m not secretly working for one of your competitors?”

seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head, before looking back at you. “oh, baby, you and i both know you like me too much to hurt me so,” he said, finally unlocking the door and letting you step inside.

well, he wasn’t wrong.

to most people, seungcheol and jihoon’s studio might not have looked like much. it held all the standard recording and mixing equipment one would expect to find there, along with personal touches from the boys, like pictures with their friends, some posters, a couple of cd racks, as well as a couch and two huge leather desk chairs. one the other side, inside the recording booth, you could see a keyboard, a couple of guitars, and a drum set, as well as some microphones, of course. to someone who’s never stepped foot in a recording studio before, like you, the place was amazing. and not just because cheol worked in there.

“i know it’s not a lot…” seungcheol mumbles, moving besides you, his arm stretched out in a way that said you could walk around.

your hands grazed the equipment on his desk, holding yourself back in fear of breaking something. “i like it, cheol. it’s homely, and cozy. definitely a good space to get those creative juices flowing,” you gave him a genuine smile, which you could tell instantly put him at ease from the way his shoulders visibly relaxed. he grinned at you, pulling up next to you by the sound board.

“you wanna see how the magic happens?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. you couldn’t help but groan, rolling your eyes.

“cheol, that was so cheesy… but yes, i do. please,” you said, giddy smiles taking over both of your faces.

“okay! come here,” he said, pulling you into his lap as he sat down in his desk chair. you felt your cheeks heat up at his actions, so natural and nonchalant, totally unaware of the effect he had on you. how could he be so oblivious, and quite literally torture you so? being so close to him now, his cologne starting to overpower your senses, you were sure to go dizzy.

“i’m gonna use one of the demos i have here, but for the record, i did not play anything for you while you were here, got it?” seungcheol said, opening an audio file on his laptop.

“yes, sir!” you gave him a wink, his ears turning red. cute.

for the next couple of minutes, seungcheol gives you a rundown on the soundboard, showing you what goes into recording and mixing a song, and even letting you play around with the different settings for pitch and autotune. even though it was all very interesting, nothing compared to just watching seungcheol’s excitement and passion while talking about music. every time your conversations would somehow turn towards music, his face would light up like a kid’s on christmas morning, his whole body animatedly gesturing while he rattled on about his favorite artists and composers, whatever new album came out that week, and even why a song with a good bass line is guaranteed to become a hit (yes, that was an actual discussion the two of you had once). seeing the obvious love he harbored for this art form made you ten times more enamored with him. you could already tell his passion and hard work were going to take him places, and you couldn’t wait to see it all.

“cheol? how did you know you wanted to do music?” you asked, turning to look up at your boyfriend.

“oh, wow, we’re going for the deep stuff, huh?” he laughed.

“you don’t have to share if you don’t want to, i was just curious… you always talk so passionately about it, i could just tell it means a lot to you.”

seungcheol sighed, leaning back into the chair. “it’s alright. i really don’t know how i got here, to be honest. i’ve always been interested in music, and found myself writing and experimenting with sound. one day, i just knew that i couldn’t really picture myself doing anything else. so i focused on that and worked my ass off, i guess.”

“well, clearly?! we’re sitting in your own studio! i’d say you’re doing pretty great,” you exclaimed, smiling at seungcheol’s blushing cheeks. “you should be proud of yourself, cheol, really.”

seungcheol can’t even look at you right now, too overcome with giddiness at the onslaught of compliments you’re suddenly throwing his way. instead, he shoves his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling a quiet ‘thanks.’

“is it hard to come up with new music?” you continue, playing with the strings of the hoodie he was wearing.

“hmm, it depends,” his voice is muffled, and you flinch at the ticklish feeling of his breath fanning on your neck. “there are days when i can put down a whole song and melody at once; sometimes it takes me weeks to be satisfied with a song i’m working on. but lately i’ve been feeling more… inspired than usual, so it’s been going pretty well.”

you turn your face towards him, a teasing smile stretching across your lips. “oh, really? how come?”

seungcheol returns your smile, his fingers pressing slightly harder into your skin where they sat on your waist. “just someone i met recently… they’re really nice and beautiful and funny and smart,” now it was your turn to grow shy, feeling your cheeks and chest grow warm at the implication of his words. “but i think jihoon is growing tired of all the ballads i’ve been writing.”

you both fall into a fit of giggles, your faces so impossibly close, your noses brush. “poor jihoon… whatever will he do?” you whisper, and before you can breathe in again, seungcheol’s lips fall against yours.

the air in your lungs dissipates in seconds. your entire body is ablaze, and you swear your hearing no longer registers the music playing from seungcheol’s laptop, instead becoming attuned to the sound of cheol’s soft sighs. you want this moment to last forever, to melt into his embrace, ingrain yourself into his very existence. his lips grow more and more fervent against yours, and you swear your mind goes blank, the only thought even going through your head in that moment a chant of his name. cheol, cheol, cheol, cheol…

later that night, once you’re home, getting ready for bed, you catch a whiff of seungcheol’s cologne again, the scents of his perfume imbued into your sweatshirt. you can’t help but smile like an idiot.

you didn’t wash that sweatshirt for a week after.

no matter how much seungcheol loved his friends, he couldn’t go on another second hearing jeonghan and joshua discuss whether they should choose lilies or hydrangeas for their wedding (because the good ol’ rose is too much of a cliche, apparently, according to joshua).

an exasperated sigh escaped him, his whole body slouching from the weight of the gloom he was carrying. jeonghan and joshua, who had been animatedly bantering over wedding preparations, suddenly go quiet, their heads snapping up to look at their friend. if this was a cartoon, they swore you would see a huge, gray cloud hanging above his head.

“alright, you gotta tell us what’s got you all pouty and gloomy, because this? this is just sad, cheol,” said joshua, gesturing at seungcheol’s crouched figure.

he sighed again, but straightened his back this time. the truth was, nothing particularly bad had happened today. but the day hadn’t gone as seungcheol had initially planned.

that morning, seungcheol had arrived at work determined to talk to you. seeing you again earlier that week had broken down the walls seungcheol had put up in the months following your breakup, and all the emotions he had tried pushing behind those walls – anger, sadness, frustration, yearning, love – were slowly, but surely, seeping back in. there was no point denying it anymore; seungcheol was not ready to let go just yet.

taking jihoon’s advice to heart, he decided to ‘grow some balls’ and initiate a discussion with you, one that you probably should’ve had before any of the shit that went down between the two of you could’ve gone down. seungcheol knew, deep down, that you were hiding something, and thought that once both of your cards were out on the table, you could either work on fixing what’s been broken, or you could both gain some closure and move on with your lives.

seungcheol was desperately hoping for the first option.

either way, whatever plans seungcheol had made were quickly put on hold when he arrived at his meeting and only found your colleague, jeon wonwoo, waiting for him in the conference room. he’d made himself look like an idiot, bluntly asking about your whereabouts, disappointment clear on his face at your lack of presence, which only got him an inscrutable look from wonwoo (who made a mental note to check in with you about this little outburst, for safety reasons). wonwoo hadn’t mentioned anything about you throughout the interview, which in retrospect, seungcheol realized, was more than normal, considering wonwoo probably had no idea that the two of you even dated before. if anyone at your firm would’ve known about your previous relationship, he imagines you wouldn’t even be here, working on this case. conflict of interest and all.

in the end, seungcheol had no idea whether you were even at PLEDIS at all, and didn’t even have time to ask around for you, having a number of recording sessions planned for the rest of the morning. it wasn’t until jeonghan called and invited him out for lunch with him and joshua, that seungcheol left his studio again. when his friends greeted him outside the restaurant they decided on, they held back from commenting on his sulky expression.

seungcheol didn’t tell them that he had half a mind to turn down their invitation when he heard where the couple wanted to meet. IL GRATO was your favorite place in town (you used to say because it was where seungcheol had taken you on your first date), and the restaurant held plenty of the many happy memories you and seungcheol had made over the years. obviously, seungcheol wasn’t particularly keen on revisiting them today, but he didn’t want to seem more pathetic than he already felt, so he shut up and pretended everything was fine.

that didn’t last long, evidently.

“why don’t you just call her? she’s obligated to answer, now that she’s working on jihoon’s situation, right? ask to schedule a meeting with her or something,” jeonghan said, sipping on his glass of prosecco.

“and what reason could i give her for a meeting? that jeon dude already asked me anything he could about jihoon, so i can’t use anything about the case,” seungcheol mumbled. “and saying i wanna discuss the clear unresolved feelings left between us is guaranteed to get her to hang up on me.”

joshua, who had been intently listening to seungcheol’s whines, suddenly perks up, grabbing seungcheol’s shoulder. “cheol, didn’t you mention jeon said he still had some interviews lined up after lunch time?”

seungcheol frowned. “yeah? what difference does it make?”

“well, dumbass, if Y/N was in fact at PLEDIS all this time, that means that she’s probably in one of the conference rooms on the same floor as him. and since most staff clock out at 5 p.m., i’d say you still have about half an hour to go back, find her, and talk to her. like you said you wanted,” joshua explained pointedly, giving seungcheol a look that screamed you have to do it or else i will hurt you.

joshua was right. how could he have been so stupid, to completely overlook what wonwoo had mentioned off-handedly at the end of their meeting. he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you and wonwoo had split up to cover more ground in collecting testimonies, and now he was at risk of completely missing his chance to see you, unless he hauled ass to PLEDIS immediately.

seungcheol shot up from his seat, quickly gathering his things and throwing his credit card on the table, before dashing for the front door. “you guys are the best! lunch is on me!” he shouted, before taking off running.

jeonghan and joshua look at each other, before bursting into giggles. jeonghan sighs, “i need them to resolve this issue before the wedding, really. i won’t be able to handle it if seungcheol mopes around during the whole ceremony.”

joshua cooed, rolling his eyes. “you simply can’t rush love, babe,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to his lover’s cheek.

jeonghan rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the spreadsheet full of wedding prep details laid out on the table. a mischievous glint gleamed in his eyes, as he turned to look at joshua. “so, my dear joshuji, how about lilies for the flower displays?”

“JEONGHAN, I SAID NO!”

nine months ago

when you and seungcheol arrived at IL GRATO, jeonghan and joshua were already inside, patiently waiting at the table they had booked for your party of four, wearing two oddly calm smiles on their faces.

to say you and seungcheol weren’t suspicious at all would be a lie.

jeonghan had called earlier that week to invite the two of you on a double date that weekend – which wasn’t unusual, since the four of you had been going on dates like these since forever  – but what had put you and seungcheol on edge was the ‘news’ jeonghan mentioned he and joshua had to share.

you and seungcheol had been going through a rough patch in the past two weeks, and this fact wasn’t unknown to your group of friends. the two of you were not the type to air out your dirty laundry, so for your friends to notice the growing tension between you meant that things were truly going badly. even though neither you or seungcheol had verbalized this to each other, you were both worried that tonight’s double date was just a cover up for an intervention, aimed to make you and seungcheol work through whatever it was bothering you two. jeonghan and joshua were seungcheol’s oldest and closest friends, and they never shied away from confronting seungcheol (and you, after you were welcomed into their friend group), especially when it came to his well-being, both physical and mental. you had been preparing your defense all week, just in case they decided to bring the situation up (and you also realized how desperately you needed a break from work).

after settling in and exchanging common pleasantries about your lives and work, the four of you put in your orders (jeonghan ordering the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu, much to yours and seungcheol’s surprise), and after the waiter brought the drinks along, you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that had been bothering you all week.

“so, you two said you had some news to share, right?”

jeonghan and joshua exchange a secretive look, and you only just notice the blush that seems to grace their faces. they looked like teenagers in love. you couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of envy.

“i guess there’s no reason to beat around the bush…” joshua said, looking again towards jeonghan.

“we’re getting married!” the other continues, leaning back into his seat to throw an arm around joshua, grinning from ear to ear.

silence falls over the table, as you and seungcheol drink in jeonghan’s revelation. you jump out of your seat, genuine excitement and joy overtaking you, as you walk around the table to hug and congratulate the two men. a string of high-pitched ‘oh my gods’ leave your lips, gaining the attention of a few other restaurant patrons, but you honestly couldn’t care less, too happy for your dear friends to pay attention to them.

as you make your way back to your seat, holding tightly onto joshua’s hand, you notice that seungcheol was eerily quiet, silently watching his friends, his eyes wide and unblinking. you lay a hand onto his arm, squeezing. “cheol… aren’t you going to say something?” you whisper.

that seems to snap him out of his daze, a gasp escaping him, before his hands come up to cover his face. you, joshua, and jeonghan exchange a concerned look, completely blindsided by seungcheol’s unexpected reaction, since he was as one of jeonghan and joshua’s loudest supporters (he had been betting on the two of them getting together since they were teenagers). but before either of you can say something else, seungcheol looks up, unshed tears swimming along his lash line.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. “i just can’t… believe… that neither of you told me! you traitors! you were planning to get engaged and i just find out at the same time as everyone else?” seungcheol pouts, his dramatics leaving the rest of you in tears.

“hey! what is that supposed to mean?” you tease, trying to calm your laughter down.

“no offense, baby, but me and the boys? we have history,” seungcheol winks, before turning back to his friends. “which means i should have priority to all life-changing news in your lives!”

the table falls into laughter once again, before jeonghan and joshua proceed to give you and seungcheol all the details he was claiming they had been keeping away from him. the rest of the evening goes like this, drinks and food shared around, and you almost forget about whatever problems your own relationship has been having, too busy reveling in the love radiating from the couple in front of you.

that night, on the drive home, you and seungcheol fall into comfortable silence, a first in the past weeks. you don’t know if it’s the buzz from the alcohol you drank, or the crooning voice of whatever singer was playing on the radio, but you can’t help but look over to seungcheol’s side, your eyes glancing over the side of his face. he was so handsome, cheeks blushed and hair messy from tonight’s laughter. you wanted to lean over and run the tips of your fingers over the edges of his face, pour everything you couldn’t say into just one touch. please forgive me, just trust me…

“what’s the staring for?” seungcheol speaks, and you whip your head around, looking out the window on your side.

“ah, i wasn’t staring!” you mumble, feeling your face grow hot. “was just thinking… about tonight.”

he smiles, briefly glancing your way. “me too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

a beat passes before seungcheol speaks up again. “when we get married, what would you want our wedding to be like?”

your heart swells when you realize he said ‘when’ instead of ‘if,’ but you can’t help but tease him a little bit. “‘when?’ i haven’t even said ‘yes’ yet, cheollie,” you smirk, turning your face towards him again.

evidently, seungcheol catches onto your little joke, but he plays into it. “emphasis on ‘yet’, baby. now answer the question!”

“okay, okay,” you chuckle. “well, i think i’d like something small… just our closest family and friends… maybe somewhere outside the city, like in the countryside, something like that,” you say decidedly, already daydreaming about all the possibilities.

“what about the beach? i think a beach wedding would be so cool… do you think your mom would let us have it at her beach house?” seungcheol says, an excited glimmer evident in his eyes.

he completely misses how your face falls at the mention of your mother, but you quickly mask it by nonchalantly agreeing with him. “i don’t see why not, she would probably love that…”

the rest of the drive goes by fast, the two of you bantering over silly wedding things like flowers, color palettes, and music selection (obviously), before you finally arrive home. inside, you both move lazily, drunk on love – or the leftover champagne in your systems – slowly undressing, stealing kisses, exchanging giggles and tantalizing looks… for the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of peace cover you, a quiet voice in the back of your mind assuring you that everything was going to be alright, and you embrace the feeling, falling into seungcheol as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

just as you’re about to fall into bed, your phone starts ringing from the floor of the bedroom, and at first you ignore it, too caught up in the feeling of seungcheol’s mouth against you, but the noise is insistent, and cheol detaches from you with a groan, urging you to see who’s bothering you in the middle of the night.

seungcheol can’t see the name on your screen, but when you tell him it’s your mom, he motions for you to take the call – she wouldn’t call this late unless there was an emergency, after all – but much to his surprise, you shuffle to find a shirt to put on, before you leave the room to take the call. from the bedroom, he can only hear muffled snippets of your conversation, and the tone of your voice is too ambiguous for him to guess how the talk is going.

when you come back, he doesn’t bring up the fact that you’d never gone to another room to take a call before. ever.

as soon as the clock on the wall reads 5 p.m., you bring the final interview you had scheduled for the day to an end, and as you say your goodbyes to the woman from the marketing department, wonwoo walks into the conference room, struggling to balance a stack of papers in his hands. you rush towards him, picking up part of the papers.

“woah, are these all the testimonies from your part of the staff?” you question, marveling at the size of the stack wonwoo brought in.

“yeah, crazy, isn’t it? i still can’t believe so many people came forward for this guy,” wonwoo replies, setting down his shoulder bag on the table. his shoulders seem tense, a whole day sitting at a desk clearly taking a toll on him.

“well, he’s clearly appreciated. everyone who i talked with only had good things to say about him,” you say nonchalantly, flicking through the papers, trying to pretend like you weren’t already aware of jihoon’s stellar reputation. each piece of paper seemed to be a reformulation of what the previous person mentioned, everybody mentioning similar qualities and compliments regarding him.

after you and wonwoo go over the information you both collected today, making a game plan for the next steps that needed to be taken, you both gather your things to finally go home for the day, exhaustion setting in. although the day hadn’t been particularly stressful, the possibility of bumping into seungcheol had caused you much more anxiety than usual, and you honestly couldn’t wait to get out of here and finally be able to breathe normally.

as you wait for the elevator – which seems to be taking its sweet time, moving in slow motion to the seventh floor – you hear wonwoo mumble under his breath, before he lets out an “oh, fucking hell.” ever the proper gentleman, he catches himself, and swiftly apologizes for his choice of words.

you chuckle, waving your hand to dismiss his unnecessary apology. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m missing some documents… i think i left them in the room i was in this morning, i’ll go after them. you go ahead and get going, i don’t want to hold you back any longer,” he explains, already turning around to head for the conference room.

“are you sure? i don’t mind wa–”

“i’m sure! go, you deserve to rest,” he shouts, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

you sigh, shaking your head, but appreciating the gesture nevertheless. the elevator bell dings, and the doors open to reveal an empty cabin. you breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence. you press the button for the ground floor, and close your eyes, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, hoping to ease the sting that came from staring into a computer screen for a whole day.

your peace and quiet is short-lived however, as the elevator only manages to go down to the sixth floor before stopping again. you sigh, preparing yourself for the onslaught of tired employees who were most likely rushing to get home as well. however, when you open your eyes, there’s only one other pair staring into yours, and you feel all the air inside your lungs dissipating, leaving you breathless.

seungcheol is standing in front of you, wearing an equally speechless look on his face. the two of you stare at each other, almost as if you’re scared to move, in fear of disrupting the karmic force that brought this moment upon you even more. you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, feeling completely unprepared for this situation. you’d thought you were finally out of the woods, that you’d be able to go home in peace and not think about the case, about cheol, about anything anymore, at least for tonight.

clearly, the universe had other plans for you.

seungcheol seems to snap out of his daze when the doors of the elevator start to close again, his arm shooting out to stop them and finally stepping inside. as the doors close behind him and the elevator resumes its course downwards, you suddenly feel like the cabin is ten times smaller than it was a few moments ago, your body instinctively moving to one of the corners of the elevator. seungcheol naturally takes over the corner opposite from you, and you can feel his eyes on you with every step he takes.

you can’t fucking breathe, and you can’t believe he still has such a hold over your body.

“hi.”

“hi.”

you both say it at the same time, and under different circumstances, the two of you might’ve erupted in giggles at the coincidence. in this moment, however, the tension between you is so palpable, it’s almost constricting.

“how’s jihoon’s case going?” seungcheol asks, and you feel almost grateful for him taking the initiative to fill the silence.

“it’s good, yeah. we had a productive day, gathered a lot of info,” you say, clearing your throat. why were you being so goddamn awkward?

seungcheol nods, humming, silence filling the space once again. you dared to sneak a glance in his direction, noticing his furrowed brows and pursed mouth. four months could not erase everything you learned about cheol in four years, and you immediately recognized his ‘i’m trying to find the right words’ look. you sigh, knowing exactly what’s inevitably coming, so you decide to put seungcheol out of his misery.

“seungcheol,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. your eyes meet in the quiet of the elevator. “just ask me. just ask me what’s bothering you. at this point, should we even beat around the bush with each other anymore?”

seungcheol opens his mouth, then decides against it. he shakes his head, sighing, before looking back at you. “i’m not ready to let go yet,” he murmurs.

your voice trembles as you try to keep your tears at bay. “cheol… why are you doing this? i mean, why are you doing this to yourself?! things haven’t been working out between us for months, and i– i was terrible to you! you should let me go, why can’t you just… leave me alone?”

seungcheol’s eyes widen, an almost crazed glint appearing behind them. “leave– leave you alone? are you fucking kidding me?” his voice rises in volume, as he takes a few steps closer. “i can’t leave you alone, because i gave you four years of my fucking life, yeah? and in those years i learned all there is to know about you. unless everything you’ve ever told me was just an act, i’ve learned how to tell when you’re lying, and i’ve learned how to tell when you’re struggling, and you know what? you’re doing both right now!”

your hands start shaking, frustration bubbling inside your chest. “i don’t need you looking out for me, alright? i can take care of myself! and i’m fine, for your information!”

“bullshit! you’re not fine, and you know why? because for three years, everything was perfectly fine with us, and then all of a sudden last year, something happened, yeah? i don’t know what exactly, because you won’t fucking tell me, but something happened that made you squeamish around me, distant, paranoid, and– and careless! you stopped caring about me, about us!”

“i didn’t stop caring!”  you croaked, your throat raw from holding back your tears. seungcheol’s eyes softened slightly at the sight of your tears finally let loose on your cheeks. “i just… i…”

seungcheol closes the last of the distance between you, standing right in front of you now. “Y/N… baby… if you’re in some sort of trouble, please… just tell me. there’s nothing you could say that could scare me or drive me away. i know you can take care of yourself, but you don’t have to! please, just… no more lies, please…”

your eyes meet his, the sincerity and love swimming in them bringing even more tears to your eyes. you could just tell him right now, let everything that’s been weighing down on you for the past year spill out all at once… but you can’t. you would never forgive yourself to come in between seungcheol and his work, his dreams… your burdens couldn’t be his burdens. you just can’t allow it.

“cheol… i ca–”

“okay, i need you to take five steps away from her, or i will physically remove you, hyung. no matter that you are older and stronger than me,” comes a voice from your right. in your fight-induced stupor, neither you nor seungcheol had realized that the elevator had reached the ground floor, the doors opening to reveal one of your favorite people on earth.

thank god for boo seungkwan.

#📁 lexie.works #🌙 midnights #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt au

[starillusion13]

Thank You…

Pairing: Taeyong x f!reader

Genre: Idol au, slice of life, strangers

W.C: 3.7k

Warnings: none (but a bit emotional and talking to a stranger at night alone and also having self doubts)

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Guys my first ever Taeyong fic…I’m gonna cry😭

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

"Are you waiting for me...again?" your soft voice broke his trance and he turned towards you. His screen was on full brightness and he squinted his eyes to take a proper look of yours. He switched his phone off and nodded to your direction. You softly smiled at him and with slow steps, you walked towards the bench he was sitting on.

It's pretty usual for you to find him sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone almost every day. Not every-day. It was not the same before three months.

One day when you were going back home from your work, you were depressed and also a bit sad and you sat on the bench to feel the cool breeze. Sometimes, spending time alone by the river and letting your thoughts out with a sigh and inhaling the peaceful aroma from the surrounding is a blessing. You often went to this place whenever you felt stressed.

But that day it was different. You found something, rather you met someone for whom you felt the urge to go there everyday and to your surprise that someone would always be there waiting for you.

Three months back. It started back then. You still remembered his glistening eyes staring at you and his broken voice. He was crying. Tears were flowing down his eyes and his hands were gripping his denim tightly. He was talking to you. His words were directed to you. He was lost. He was hated. He was broken. He was alone. Except his eyes. Nothing more was visible. He was wearing a black mask and a black cap. You didn't know why he was wearing all those for hiding his face but still who were you to ask him that.

Why were you even concern?

"Take this." You extended your hand offering your handkerchief towards him. He stared at it for too long and his gaze moved up to your face. You smiled acknowledging his attention.

It was your preferrable bench and usually you didn't find anyone before in that place and with the thought of having a company that day seemed a perfect idea. But when you got the closer look, it was not the way you thought. It was pretty much more than that.

Taking the handkerchief from your hand, he clutched it tightly in his hold. You followed his movement and heaved a sigh before putting up a little smile and turned towards him, shifting a bit closer to him but maintaining a decent distance. You suddenly didn't want to creep him out.

"You can wipe your tears or do anything with it. You can take it with you. Its not containing chloroform though so don't be scared. Its pretty new and the sweet mint smell is because of a spray bottle in my bag. I gave that to you so that other people wont notice you crying while going back home." You wanted to cheer him up and rambled everything to not make you seems like a crazy person but you were doing worse for yourself.

You gulped when noticing his lost eyes staring at you and you pressed your lips into thin line and raised your brows.

"I'm sorry..." "Thank you."

You both said at the same time. You laughed off the awkwardness and he chuckled too. Your eyes went wide and you stopped laughing.

"Did you just laugh? Did I make you smile? Wait did you said some words like in my language?" you were on it again with your questions bombarding on him.

"Which answer do you want first?" he asked you softly. His voice was broken and rough. The voice was having a glint of familiarity but you thought that many people can have same voice.

You pout and pressed your back to the seat and leaned back to look up at the sky. You took deep breathes. He was watching your every moment as if he saw a human being for the first time. His eyes trailed down from your short hairs waving to the breeze then to your exhausted face and down to you clutching your bag tightly to yourself. He noticed a particular keychain, rather a bundle of keyrings. The view of familiar objects tugged at his heart.

"Are you tired?" he asked you.

You silently nodded and remained in the same posture, just moving your head to face him, "yeah...I am but am willingly to hear you. Really. I'm serious. You can say me anything. I mean no harm."

He nodded and mimicked your posture. You smiled at him for being comfortable with you.

"Do you come here often?" he asked you again and faced you but you were already staring at the stars. His gaze was fixed on you.

"No. maybe not often but usually whenever I feel for a refreshment or like to spend time alone, I come here to think about everything and sink into my thoughts to dive back to a life with no stress." You weakly smiled and a frown appeared on your face and you faced him. You were shocked that he was already facing you but still you raised your voice, "hey, you are asking me questions and am answering them all but you didn't reply any of my earlier questions."

He laughed. It was not just a chuckle but a genuine laugh. Your heart felt light seeing him laughing as if a wave of familiarity passing you again. As if this laugh makes you happy somewhere but you cant set it in place. Where? The only way of knowing his emotions were through his eyes and voice. He had boba eyes and those were shining so much under the moonlight as if all those stars were just locked inside his watery gaze which were on you.

"I was teaching you how to ask questions to someone."

He paused and waited for your response. You sat back up and glared at him and he got up too, facing you.

"Don't tease me like that. I was just trying to make you comfortable with me so that you could feel a bit better from whatever you were hurt......but I think I made fun of myself."

He patted your head, "hey it's okay. I was just joking. Its funny though. You are sulky like Doy- my best friend."

You laughed with him.

He continued, "I can laugh because I have emotions. I can smile too but just you cant see me now. I can feel every emotion because I have a heart to feel it. Just some people are ignorant that I am a human too. They point out my mistakes. I appreciate it. They love me. I love them back. I do everything for others but in the end, they just turn their back to me for a misunderstanding. I hope I'm speaking in your language because I'm not an alien." He sadly chuckled. A tear fell from his eyes. He wiped it off with your hanky.

You stared at him. What happened? Who are these people he is talking about?

"to the last I give them everything. Even if I'm tired and feeling to give up but still I want to do everything to see others happy. Just to see them. To see us. Happy. Am I really bad?" he asked the last question softly and stared straight into your eyes.

The question felt like directly pointing towards you. As if he wanted you to answer it. He was eager to listen to you but you just gulped. You didn't know who were the people he was talking about, why he was sad and what he was even talking about. Overall, you knew he was broken and hurt.

"no one is really bad." You licked your lips before continuing, "do you think I'm perfect. No. we can't be perfect in every way. Its natural for some people to love us and some to hate us and we should always focus on the good part. Look out for the people who are still good to you and trying to know the actual reason without misunderstanding you. If you only focus on the shining part, every other thing will eventually blur out."

"that's how you keep up with your life?"

"maybe. Actually I try to keep up like that. I try every day. Sometimes its really hard to live when you don't have any good reason to be motivated and only getting hurt by some worst reality. But thanks to some people who are cheering me up every day from afar without even knowing me. They never hurt me but heal me. whenever they get hurt. I feel sad. Oh yeah wait you should follow them."

" them? Who? They are really good people then." He smiled in the end.

You hurriedly searched for your phone inside your bag, your keyrings dangling and he was gazing at the familiar things again. He was both scared and happy to see it. He was unsure about his feeling because of you.

You typed something in your phone and your face was lit up to the light from your screen. You were so focused and excited to show him some people. He was curious to know who were the people you were excited about. he was glad that you had some people to make you feel happy.

"look...they are the best.." you scooted closer towards him. You didn't mind that his fingers were almost touching your thighs. It was nothing disrespectful and you were wearing a jeans similar to him and you were all focused on your screen than minding your surroundings, "This is NCT. My favorite boy group."

Three familiar letters visible to his eyes. N.C.T. so you were talking about them. He would have told you about his members in a similar way. They are really best. He thought that inside his mind and smiled to himself. His members are really best. They are his family. But is he good enough to fit with them? This thought lingering in his mind.

"so like they have so many members. Its pretty hard to understand them when you are new but gradually you will understand them and their different units. You will definitely love them. You know life is pretty harsh to us. We are hated and get hurt by others even when we ourselves don't know what we did wrong. But still we can be happy." You held his hand. "please don't hurt yourself thinking about them. Please be happy. Think of the people who love you. Who want to see you happy?"

"do you love NCT? Do you love them?" his sudden question made you blink twice.

"yeah. I love them a lot. They are my safe place after a stressful day. You will find a different world when you are with them. You will feel as if you have a family who loves you from a distance. Their smile, their laugh, their jokes, their voice, their moves, and everything is filled with a bond of love. A love of friendship. I really don't have friends who love them but a few online friends though." You stated but still deep in thoughts when you looked at your screen and scrolled down.

"Tell me..." you looked back at him when he asked you, "tell me about this NCT. I want to know about them."

"you can search it up on google NCT which is Neo Culture Technology. Wait I'm giving you some youtube link."

He held your hand, halting your movement, "no I want to hear it from you. I want to hear your perspective. I can search their group details and all from the internet but I can never search for your point of view."

"what do you want to hear?"

"everything. From the beginning."

You nodded and again leaned back but now he was still sitting facing you. He watched how you kept your bag between you and him and sighed, "I was in high-school when I found them. They were rookies back then and literal children like me, even though some are of my age. I wasn't a person of outgoing and party lover so basically I used to spend my time alone in my room and one day I found out a video on them. I reluctantly opened it and started watching it. Out of curiosity, I dig in the video and watched all the related and recommended videos. I searched about them everywhere. I felt as if I found a new family. I noticed that I always felt happy whenever I was with them, of course through a screen. I found a family and him. He made me love myself. He taught me how to be hard-working and be good to others. 'Never give up on your dreams. You can make it happen.' He guided me when I had no one. I am too much related to them."

"who is he? Member of NCT?" he asked you and adjusted his cap.

You nodded, "yes. My favorite person."

"What's his name? tell me about him?"

You chuckled, "if you were a fan of kpop and asked me this then I would have feel weird and thought you were asking me about my bias to make him your own bias. Hey, I'm just kidding. Well his name is Lee Taeyong. He is the leader of NCT. He was the reason I got invested into this group so much. He caught my eyes first because somewhere I felt his story of struggles personally. I saw how he fights his inner battles just to prove others that he is good. Sometimes it feels like he wants to prove it to himself more. I don't know him personally but I know his life is much more difficult behind those screens. But I want him to be happy like the way he makes me smile."

Lee Taeyong. The moment his name came out of your mouth. He was shocked. Previously he was shocked already for many reasons. Your Czennie keyrings, your favorite group is NCT and then he is your bias. And you described him in such a loving way. The way he never thought of himself to see. He often heard things like this from his members who are apparently his best-friends. But he never heard anything like this from other anyone in person. The person who is his fan.

"do you think he is a good person? What if he is bad and people starts hating on him? Will you hate him too?" he asked you in an unsure tone but you smiled back to him.

"As I said earlier. No one is totally perfect. Neither you nor myself is good. But we try to improve ourselves and probably he is fighting too. He is a human too like us. He is not a toy who needs to be perfect for us to love them. Their truths and different emotions and sides made me fall in love with them. I don't care what others think about him. But I will believe him till the day I find an actual reason to hate him. I will love him. I love him a lot." You smiled brightly.

You were smiling thinking of Taeyong. But the man sitting in front of you had tears in his eyes but there was a proud and thankful smile hiding behind the mask.

"you are pretty like your soul." His hand caressed your cheeks. You got startled with the sudden touch and he noticed it and quickly apologized.

"I meant that people who know how to love others are really pretty like you. I'm sure he loves you too. He deserves fans like you. He needs fans like you." His words were dipped in hurt. He was telling as if he needs you. You softly smiled.

“Well I’m just a czennie or also you can say a NCTzen from Neocity. I’m happy in this delulu world.”

“What’s delulu?” He was confused.

“You haven’t heard the world delulu? There is a famous phrase ‘Delulu is the solulu’ means delusion is the solution. I just like to be happy in my delusions apart from this reality sometimes.”

“Don’t you want him to love you back the same way you love him? Don’t you want to feel him in your reality other than being delusional?”

You unlocked your screen and stared at the lockscreen and he noticed that it was his picture with a bright smile on his face hiding all the pain behind it and feeling loved by all the fans which was brightly glowing in your phone. In your heart.

“I love him. I really love him but…” you smiled at the picture, “but he is for his fans to love him…even if I want to keep him to myself.”

You looked up to his eyes.

Your words directly hit his heart. He felt like he needed you all these times. You were like an angel who was sent to point out the good in everything. But as you said he was not yours in the first place. There are many others like you who are loving him and being motivated by him. He is their inspiration for life.

He is for his fans to love him.

He got a call from his manager and then you both parted your ways. He fished the hanky in his pocked and walked away with waving you goodbye.

And like that everyday you would see him sitting there waiting for you and gradually you became friends in few weeks and still you don’t know his face.

“It’s not fair how you get to see me and know my face but I don’t know anything about you.”

“It’s better for you to not know my face. And also we don’t know one thing about each other so let it be like this.”

“What?”

“We don’t know each other’s names.”

“Do you want to know?”

He shook his head, “no. Let’s keep it like this…it’s better.”

This became a daily routine of yours and today it was similar to find him at the exact same spot. He always waits there at the bench when you return from your work.

“Yeah I was waiting for you but then I thought you won’t be coming today and I was sad.”

He stood up and patted your head.

You were surprised to see him being like that but still put on a smile.

“Why were you sad? Because you won’t have someone to talk to? Well I am here now…”

He nodded, “I am sad but all these days I was happy because of you. I loved talking to you. But…we won’t be meeting again…I was here to spend few months holidays in my free time from stressful worklife but I had my best days because of you.”

Oh. So he is leaving.

“You are leaving……”

“Even if I’m leaving we will keep this memory forever with us. Our life is private to each other but we have a common secret. The secret of us in these 3 months.”

He extended his hand revealing a green coloured hanky. You creased your brows and stared at it.

“Why?”

“I heard that czennies love green colour so that’s a friendship gift for you like you gave me on our first day. I have kept it with me. The red colour was cute. And this is for you.”

You took it and today you were crying. You were crying because you felt someone ripping your heart apart or like he was leaving a blank space in your puzzle.

You noticed tiny stitches in a corner of the hanky. Three letters written in black L.T.Y. And below it with a small hyphen again three letters N.C.T.

L.T.Y.

- N.C.T.

“L.T.Y. Huh?”

“Love Thank You…” he pronounced each word with a space. His voice was like usual, a bit clogged due to the mask and sometimes it’s difficult to understand his words.

“Love?”

“You are filleded with love and purity. You are a love in person.”

Oh. Silly you.

“For a second I thought it’s Lee Taeyong.”

He followed your laugh. But then he told you to look up at the sky. You did as he told you.

“ if you feel like to talk to me ever again. I’m going to listen to you through those stars. I will talk to you like that too.”

You nodded and a tear dropped from your eyes like a shooting star of losing hope to see him again.

“Will I ever get to see you again?” You asked him in a broken voice.

You have never seen his face and also don’t know anything about him but still you got attached to him too much. Can’t you keep in touch with him?

“Don’t know but it’s better not. It will be better if I just remain as a part of your memory not your reality or present.”

Not your reality or present.

You nodded again.

Like everyday he got a call again after which he leaves in hurry. It was same for today as well but today’s farewell was meant forever. Before he could turn around after saying goodbye.

You hugged him.

It was a quick hug and you quickly retreated yourself and looked down after taking few steps back. He stepped forward and patting your head, he nodded.

“I’m sorry… but I felt like to hug you and I want to say Thank you before our last goodbye. I hope you didn’t cry again. You are perfect in your own way. People love you and I know you are a person to be loved.”

You love him too. It might can sound weird but it’s okay because as a friend you love him a lot.

“It’s okay I can understand. And….thank you to you too. and please keep loving him. Taeyong needs you to love him.”

Waving your hands to each other. He ran to the opposite direction to your home. You watched his retreating figure until the far your eyes could see him because you knew beyond that you won’t be seeing him again.

Thank you…

he was thankful to meet his fan.

After that whenever you crossed that place, you glanced for once in the direction with a losing hope and found it empty. You sadly smiled at it and looked up to the stars.

“I hope you are happy living your life somewhere…”

“Thank you, czennie.”

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #nct #nct x reader #nct taeyong #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct u #nct 127 fluff #nct angst #nct fic #nct fluff #nct imagines #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong #taeyong #taeyong fluff #taeyong x you #taeyong x y/n #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong angst

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 10

~ Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry ~

You might remember this fic from last year. Well, I had plans to make it a one off thing but then I couldn't help it and I got another idea. And I just want to say thank you to everyone who read the first part and loved it. It's so fun when you guys love something as much as I do. Without further delay, please enjoy Part 2 who we really and truly have to thank Rowaelin month and @rowaelinscourt for.

~~~~~

All Aelin could do was stare at her own reflection in the mirror of her dressing room vanity. She didn’t have long before she had to leave her sanctuary and face a crowd of strangers like her entire world hadn’t been rocked at its foundations. Acting was a talent she’d taken to at a very young age, the tales of her dramatics often told around the dinner table. Aelin would be fine, she’d put on one of her charismatic smiles and give her audience her all, and everything would be fine. But for now, it was only her stunned expression to keep her company. 

That was how Rowan found her however long later, silent and still as her mind was whirring with thoughts of the future. Aelin had lost track of the minutes spent doing absolutely nothing, and as Rowan appeared in the mirror she startled, a hand flying to her chest as if to stop her heart from flying out of her chest. 

“Holy gods, you scared me,” she breathed as Rowan removed his cap and kissed her on the cheek. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Rowan murmured onto her skin as he kissed her again. When he noticed she still hadn’t moved, not in the slightest, to look at him or seek out another kiss his voice changed from teasing to concern. “Are you all right?”

Aelin finally found the compulsion to move, swivelling in her makeup chair to face Rowan. It was always infinitely more pleasant when he could come to the studio without the threat of being in front of the camera. Not as exciting for her, but she was still happy to see him. When he came to visit her here Rowan had to sneak in and from the sheer amount of times he’d done he’d developed quite the skill for it. The tricky part was not drawing attention, and with years of practice he had the art of blending in down to a fine art. 

The key was appearing so much unlike his professional self that it would take more than a double take to place why he looked so familiar. So today with his scruffy hat hair, hoodie and stubble covered cheeks, he was a far cry from the suave and composed image he gave the camera.

Since Rowan’s last public performance here he’d been promoting his new album and gone on tour. Over the past eight months Aelin had hardly seen him except via a phone screen. The last time they had managed to see each other in person was when he had shows in Suria and snuck away when he should have been sleeping in to come see her. That was about six weeks ago.

“We have a situation,” Aelin had said, looking up at him and jerking her head towards the vanity. “And I think we have this room and that couch to blame.” 

Rowan’s brows furrowed then looked to where she had directed. His eyes went wide and he did a few double takes before his gaze finally settled on her. There was an open question in his eyes and Aelin just nodded. Then he let out a shaky laugh as he realised fully what this all meant, a hand rubbing his stubbled chin. 

“Well, I guess this changes things,” Rowan finally said. 

“Indeed it does,” Aelin confirmed. “We need a plan, and I think I have one.”

THREE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER…

Aelin always got butterflies waiting behind the curtain for the final call of action. The crowd was still humming with chatter and she could hear the last camera checks over her in-ear monitor. This time the butterflies were worse, enough to make her nauseous. Today’s show would be one to be remembered and it had taken a good amount of deceit and scheming to get here.

“Alright, Aelin,” a voice said into her ear. “Curtains open in five, four, three…”

Aelin took in a deep breath, the last two counts sounding in her head. Two, One.

The applause started and then the curtains opened, Aelin taking the ten steps forward to get to her mark. She smiled and waved while she made eye contact with a few people seated in the audience. There were cheers and whistles, and when it went on a little too long Aelin held up her hands to start quieting them down as the prompt screen undoubtedly displayed QUIET PLEASE. Once the audience had settled Aelin began her welcoming monologue. 

“Thank you so much,” she said, her smile stretching wide, and there were cheers again. “Now, now, as much as I would love to stand here and lap up every bit of your admiration, I don't get paid for that.” There was a healthy amount of laughter. “I get paid to put on a show and what a show do we have planned for today. They’re always special, what am I talking about? It reminds of something my father used to say, slightly inappropriate but I think—”

The strum of a guitar interrupted her and Aelin made sure she looked affronted even though she knew exactly what was going on. When the the chord turned into music she sent a confused look to the audience a millisecond before they broke out in raucous cheers. Aelin whirled around  to see Rowan strutting out, centrestage from where she had been standing moments before with the smallest of smug smiles on his face. He was looking down at his guitar and Aelin put her hands on her hips to show her displeasure. Rowan had the gall to wink at her. If he wasn’t careful he’d give the whole gig away. 

Even though it wasn’t his job, it was Fenrys who darted out from the wings and dropped a mic and stand in front of Rowan, and then he was gone again. It became a stand off, Rowan playing while he challenged her with a look that told her to get off his stage, even though it was her stage. 

He had to win for the whole ploy to work, so Aelin gave an overexaggerated and exasperated sigh, her hands falling to her sides as half turned to the audience as she said, “I guess I know when I’m not needed.”

It was hard, but Aelin withheld her own smile as she gave Rowan the limelight. He hadn’t stopped playing, the chords effortlessly coming from the instrument and he never missed a beat. Aelin found a spot by the foot of the low steps near her interview platform, right beside Fenrys who had decided not to head out of sight. He nudged her with his elbow and winked. Aelin tried not to look too pleased with herself. 

The tempo picked up and Rowan readied himself in front of the microphone. Aelin’s breath caught in her chest, it always did in the anticipation of the song beginning. It always happened when Rowan was about to sing. He closed his eyes, grounding himself to the melody and then his deep voice filled the studio.

I found a love, for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

“Sweet?” Fenrys muttered under his breath.

Aelin tried very hard not to snort and ruin Rowan’s performance. “Artistic licence. Now hush” 

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was.

They might not have been kids but they were young and stupid enough to mistake their mutual animosity for other feelings that were way at the other end of the spectrum. When they had admitted to their true feelings it was like Aelin’s entire world had fallen into place. Rowan was everything she wanted and she had just been too willfully ignorant to see. Thank the gods they had come to their senses. Eventually. 

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight

Aelin remembered that night, Rowan had surprised her after she’d been deep cleaning her house all day. It was the first time that Rowan had seen her so dishevelled. Her cheeks had burned, he didn’t notice, just sweeping into her kitchen to make dinner. They had sat outside, eating on a blanket, and after Rowan had pulled her to her feet to dance under the night’s sky, the cooling grass beneath their feet. 

The backing curtain rose, revealing a small band to accompany Rowan and his guitar playing. The music swelled to new heights and Aelin was reminded of just how much she loved this song.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

Unconsciously Aelin’s hand drifted to her stomach. It was an unconscious gesture, but how could she not when he was singing about that. 

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this

Darling, you look perfect tonight

When the instrumental bridge began Rowan stopped playing, letting the backing band have their moment. Confused, Aelin sent him a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. He just pulled his guitar over his head, walked over and handed it over to Fenrys. Before Aelin could even ask aloud about whatever was going on right now Rowan had taken her hand and spun her into a dance. Fenrys’ laugh was audible and she knew they must have looked quite the sight. It was hard not to melt into his embrace, which came to her so naturally in this moment. They were still on camera, and they had images to maintain. Her the larger than life social star, he the cold and callous musician, although with this break in character Rowan’s was very quickly unravelling. Aelin knew this song by heart, he’d played it for her enough, so she knew when he had danced too long for that standard interlude, but the band covered him.

He did dance her back over to her spot by the stage before it was too obvious that he was stalling and took his guitar back. Rowan was effortlessly able to join back in, his voice impassioned as he started the final rendition of the chorus. 

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

By the gods he did. With everything that he had been through and what he had given to Aelin without question, he deserved every bit of happiness they had together. As her thoughts ran off the music slowed, Rowan closing out the song, strumming the last few chords himself and ending it on a truly acoustic note. 

You look perfect tonight

The applause was deafening, and Aelin joined in. Like he always did, Rowan went a little shy when accepting the adoration being rained down on him. His cheeks went a delectable shade of pink and he nodded at the crowd who just kept clapping. Aelin gave Fenrys a jab in the arm to get him moving off camera and out of the way. Knowing the camera was now on her, Aelin put on her signature teasing smirk, clapping as Rowan approached. Gods damn him, but he held out his hand like the gentleman to help her up the miniscule steps. His back was to the camera, convenient as he scowled at the towering heels she’d chosen to wear today. He would say they were a safety concern, Aelin was adamant they made her outfit.

They sat in the arms chairs, sinking into the plush cushions. Their eyes were on each other while they waited for the commotion to die down enough for the interview to start. Rowan must have made quite the impression because it took the QUIET PLEASE flashing longer than usual for the audience to follow the instruction. When they finally did Aelin grinned. 

“How dare you interrupt my monologue,” she said. 

Rowan had assumed his cool and aloof demeanour, and he just shrugged. “That song was more heartfelt than any spiel you were about to give.”

Aelin gasped. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

In fact, she’d woken him up with soft kisses that had led to more, and he’d left bed in the best mood possible. 

“Now that song,” Aelin said, drawing out each word. “It’s a love song, and from those beautifully written, heartfelt words, it feels like it might have been written about someone special.”

“If you have a question, Aelin, just ask it,” Rowan challenged. 

She lent forward, the thrill of the game exciting her. “I have many questions. First, what can you tell me about this,” Aelin waved her hand flippantly over her shoulder, where she knew a photo from Rowan’s Instagram was being shown.  “I showed this post a few months ago and I can tell you there were more than a few broken hearts in this studio.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the audience. Aelin shot a glance at the picture, admiring the large emerald set in a gold band. Rowan couldn’t have done better in picking the perfect engagement ring for her, Aelin had hated that she hadn’t been able to wear it and to show it off. The only public admittance of their relationship was this photo and because it only showed Aelin’s hand she had remained anonymous. There was just the widespread devastation that Rowan Whitethorn was officially off the market, the media sent into a tizzy because no one knew who his mystery woman was. It cost them both an exorbitant amount in NDAs but somehow they had managed to keep it all out of the public eye.

“My favourite comment is this one: WTF But you and Aelin! I shipped the two of you so hard. You’ve broken my heart,” Aelin read. “How could you break their heart like that, Rowan? Have you no compassion?”

“I don’t know how people can see the way we interact and imagine us together,” Rowan said.

“Shipping is the word you’re looking for,” Aelin explained. “You may be too old to be down with the lingo, unfortunately.”

Rowan scoffed, selling his arrogance. “I could say the same about you, I doubt kids today know what the word lingo means.”

“At least I’m not as old as you,” Aelin threw in a little bite to her words to make her anger believable. “I have that going for me amongst all my other admirable and desirable qualities.”

“If you say so.” She saw Rowan fighting his smile but he kept his composure in the end. “You just like anything that draws attention to you. Never mind how ridiculous and unfounded that attention might be.”  

“I see falling in love hasn’t done any favours to you manners,” Aelin teased.

“Maybe it’s just you, Aelin. You seem to make it your mission to make me as nasty as I can be." Rowan sounded both impatient and offended, a practised tone for him.

“What can I say, I love to ruffle your feathers. And It’s not my fault they’re so easily ruffled,” Aelin countered. “But I should at least offer my congratulations. An engagement is one thing but I’m more interested in what comes after.”

A video played on the large screen behind the two of them, the song Rowan had just sung playing again in lower quality with just him and his guitar. Aelin watched the grainy video footage, seeing him dressed in dark pants with the buttons of is white shirt rolled to his elbows, the rest of his features were blurred by the terrible quality of the camera work. His stand out feature was his voice as he sang to an unknown figure. The heads of the guests obscured the view of who that was, the only thing that was seen of her was her hands dancing above her head for a few moments. Fenrys had done a wonderful job purposefully terrible camera work.

There were some murmurs from the audience as they put together the other pieces of information the video showed them. It was more than clear what this delightful snippet was from, but Aelin began the dance anyway.

“That looks like you’re at a wedding,” she said. 

“My own, in fact,” Rowan confirmed. There were a few cheers at that, the news wasn’t new. It had been hard won but they had managed to fully control what information had gone out about the special event. “You should know, you were there.”

This time there were a few surprised gasps and muttering of what. The animosity between Aelin and Rowan was notorious, and although some tabloids tried to put a flirtatious spin on it it never seemed to stick. Their feuding held more entertainment and money. 

“I wasn’t invited directly, I came as a plus one for a very important guest.” Aelin lent back in her chair, consciously keeping her hands on the arms of it. “It was a magical affair and a wonderful night. I must say though, I think you could  have done better. You’re worth millions after all.”

Rowan’s eyebrows rose with indignant surprise. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well, the venue for starters,” Aelin said. “It felt like a prison inside, all those high walls and artificial lighting. Why were we punished for your success?”

“I’m a private man, as you well know. There’s certain things I can’t compromise on to maintain it.”

“And the colour scheme,” she made a disgusted sound. “So basic. Green and gold? Sounds like the colour scheme for a sports team.”

There was a chuckle from Rowan at that. “I didn’t know you paid attention to such things.”

“You’d be surprised at what I pay attention to,” Aelin said with a flirtatious wink. “That dress. Stunning. Couldn’t have chosen a more stunning piece of art.”

“At least you have one positive thing to say,” even though he sounded completely unimpressed. “She was stunning as ever, even though wedding planning did make her kind of a diva.”

Aelin lent a hand on her chin, a smile quirking up the side of her mouth even though she wanted to insist the contrary. “Pity about that, though I’d say your temperaments match. Or more likely she realised it was your sorry ass that she was marrying and didn’t want you to face the embarrassment of being left at the altar. I think you should thank her for that kindness.”

“Anything else that didn’t meet your expectations, your Highness?” Rowan made sure to add an edge of mocking to his voice, but Aelin could see the mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Aelin tapped her chin, sending a conspiring look to the audience as they sat on the edge of their seats waiting for her next biting quip. “The wine, I would have chosen better.” That held some truth, because Aelin hadn't exactly participated in the trying before buying. 

“You didn’t even drink any,” Rowan said, almost ruining everything by laughing. They would need to wrap this up quickly before he gave them away completely. This man couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. 

“That,” she drew the word out as a warning, “was because I heard it was so terrible I didn’t even bother with it. Now let’s get back to your lovely little song.”

“If you’d like,” Rowan added callously. 

In return Aelin sent him a wry smile. “I understand it was for your wife. A serenade for her on your wedding day.”

Rowan just nodded. There was a call of but who is she from the audience. Host and guest both pointedly ignored it. 

“The lyrics are beautiful, and obviously come from the heart. She must be a very lucky woman to have your devotion.” Then Aelin turned towards the audience. “Who knew Rowan Whitethorn could be such a softy, even his vows had me in tears.”

There was no word of a lie there. As Rowan had declared his love to her, and promised to honour and care for them as long as he lived, Aelin couldn’t keep back the tears. Her father had to pass her his pocket square so she could dab the tears away without ruining her makeup. 

“Over all, it was quite the party,” Aelin said. 

Rowan snuck her a secret smile. “It was.”

“I’d say the party really started once the bride and groom left,” Aelin mused.

“Did it just?” Rowan said in that dry way of his.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, trying not to remember too vividly how they had gone back to their room and really celebrated lest she blush on camera. “Your presence has that kind of impact.”

Rowan had to look down to hide most of his smile as he shook his head at her antics. It really was time to wrap it up before he lost all restraint and just blurted everything out because Aelin teased too hard and he bit too quickly. 

“Where is your shiny new wedding ring anyway? It just about blinded me at the reception,” Aelin said. 

This was the predetermined phrase that would uncover them at last. For nearly two years Aelin and Rowan had managed to keep their relationship private and out of the public eye. They were about to undo all their hard work, but it was about time and most definitely worth it. Bringing their relationship to light would save them from all the speculation and rumours that continuously surrounded them. Not completely, there would always be gossip of cheating and the like, but it would be nice not to hide anymore. 

Rowan shifted so that he could reach into his back pocket and then showed off his ring, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “I took it off to play, didn’t want it getting in the way.”

Even though they had no idea what they were anticipating, the audience seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Rowan slipped his ring onto his finger then looked right at Aelin. 

“I’ve got yours, too,” Rowan said, this time reaching into the pocket over his heart. There was tittering from the audience, Aelin struggled to keep her face neutral. “I found them on the bathroom counter, I thought you might want them.”

The was a singular, very high pitched WHAT from someone in the audience. Rowan held out his hand to her, palm up with the emerald on full display. 

Biting her bottom lip to stop her grin was futile and Aelin only had eyes for Rowan as she said, “Thank you, but I’d left them there on purpose.”

Rowan was grinning too, his eyes darting down to her stomach. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t get them on,” Aelin said casually, risking a glance at her audience who looked like they were ready to explode. “My fingers were too swollen. Tends to happen when you’re pregnant.”

Absolutely pandemonium broke out. Aelin stood, watching as the audience collectively lost their mind and smoothed her hands over her dress, showing off the small bump she had hidden beneath. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping, there were whistles and a few screams. She smiled, caressing her bump affectionately again. It had been difficult but they had managed to keep the pregnancy out of public knowledge. A few of the tabloids had run stories about her looking pregnant but when nothing came of it, they just gave up. Aelin had faced pregnancy allegations every other week for years, this time it wasn’t a lie. She was just too good at keeping secrets. A baby had been a surprise, to say the least, but not at all an unwelcome one. The wardrobe department had a hard time dressing her lately in an attempt to hide the pregnancy and to keep her comfortable. Even more NDAs were handed out over it.

And then Rowan stood too, off script. He swept an arm around her waist and she went willingly into his embrace. Rowan tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a sweet smile, the kind that was just for her, his eye crinkling in the corner. When he kissed her Aelin let him, returning it fervently. It was probably too amorous for day time television but Aelin couldn’t find it in herself to care—not when Rowan whispered I love you and looked at her like that. 

Once the chaos died down Rowan had been sent off and Aelin had to focus on her real job, Getting through the rest of the show had been a feat. As soon as Rowan had left the stage Aelin pretended like nothing had happened. The next segment had been promoting various popular books, followed by video chatting a school telling them her studio was providing them with iPads. All in all, it was a fantastic show, but now that it was over she was free to return to her dressing room.

Rowan was waiting for her, arm draped over the back of the couch and looking far too good. Aelin tried not to slam the door but her excitement got the better of her. Kicking off her heels she wasted no more time before climbing into Rowan’s lap, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him. His hands went to her waist, his thumbs brushing over her sides. 

When they finally broke apart Rowan said, “You could have let up a little.”

“I’m still mad about it being a shotgun wedding,” Aelin pulled back and narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know if it was the hormones or purely the lyrics but I had to blink back the tears.”

“How is that my fault? You’ve heard that song a hundred times.” Rowan was giving her a look that only insisted that part was not his fault.

Aelin ignored it completely. “And you almost gave it away so many times, like when you told the world I wasn’t drinking.”

Rowan's deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and he urged her closer. “We were heading in a wedding direction anyway. We just needed a little bit of a push. You can’t blame me for getting a little excited over telling everyone.”

His hand rested over her stomach, right over the tiny thing that had given them much more than a little push. Finding out that they were pregnant had accelerated all the plans they had for their future. They didn’t see the point in waiting to get engaged or prolonging the time between that and a wedding. They had chosen each other, and like their vows had said, they were in this together until whatever end. Still, the joke of the shotgun wedding was too funny to let go of, and there had also been the fact she hadn’t been able to wear her engagement ring outside the house. It was beautiful and deserved to be shown off. 

The feeling of Rowan’s lips making their way up her neck drew her back to the present. “I worked it out.”

“Worked what out?” Rowan asked but wasn’t deterred by her shift in topic and kissed her jaw.

“That we most likely conceived on this very couch,” Aelin explained. “You were busy with your tour and I checked the dates and you were only in town for those few days.”

Rowan stopped kissing her to laugh. “Is this a lucky couch then?”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Aelin said, her hand slipping into his hair tugging it just the way he liked. “I certainly like to get lucky on it.”

Rowan groaned, leaning in so that scrape his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Did you lock the door?”

The words were whispered onto her skin and made Aelin shiver. All resolve lost, she melted against Rowan, sighing as his hands wandered over her body. Gods, she needed him, her blood still thrumming from all the excitement of the interview. And she could feel how much Rowan needed her, a teasing roll of her hips only intensifying the situation. 

“There’s no need,” Aelin said and Rowan pulled back enough to see his face. “To quote our dear friend Fenrys, after all that foreplay no one would even risk disturbing us right now.”

Rowan’s grin was near feral. “No more wasted time then.”

They both moved, meeting in the middle for a kiss that set every fire within them blazing. The couch it seemed, would prove to be more than useful yet again. And like Aelin had said, lessons had been learned and no one interrupted them… this time.

~~~~~

Hope you like that one! I know I certainly did

#rowelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #dressing room drama

[thefrontofmymind]

I Could Never Hate You (ex!reader x matty healy)

a/n: this is a bit of an add-on to this blurb so it'll kinda make more sense if you read that too but its not totally needed

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, you got more and more antsy. Finally, after over two years, you were finally letting the world into your passion project. An album that you started with love, then loneliness and heartbreak. It took you through the hardest few months of your life, the breakup with the man who you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. It wasn’t even some big event, you just realised that you couldn’t grow together. You and Matty had spent most of your relationship alone together, in isolation away from the rest of the world. And that worked well for a while–living in stasis–but when it came time to join the real world again, you found that everyone else had changed, drastically, and you both needed to change as well, and not together.

Well, that was the start of it. Once you’d both had to start living single, for the first time in years, and it quickly became apparent that things would not settle easily. First was the awkwardness from your mutual friends, not knowing whether to take sides or not, then the jealousy in seeing just how happy you both seemed on social media without one another–of course, this was all a facade, you were both very unhappy but just too stubborn to admit it.

Hearing the things he would say about you on stage, in his songs, in interviews, you were so hurt. Not to mention shocked, you didn’t know he’d be so upset, when you split there wasn’t much animosity, just heartache. You didn’t know he felt so threatened over the mere idea of you dating someone else–all rumours made up by tabloids, you were nowhere near ready to date somebody else.

It was ten minutes until midnight. You had almost finished your final listen through it, while it was still just your’s, only two songs left. And then the whole world could listen, and learn about the past couple years that you held so sacred. 

You didn’t even realise you were crying until the tears finally spilled over your cheeks as the ending chords of the final track played in your empty flat. Living through that whole journey each time you listened was like another blow to your chest over and over, but some part of you yearned for it each time–it was your only gateway to the last time you felt actually happy with yourself. Since you broke up with him, it had all been a complete mess of bathroom breakdowns and many nights with too much wine.

As you composed yourself with a tissue there was only about a minute left, this was it. 

You watched your phone’s time turn to Friday, it was like a weight was lifted off your back. All your worries, the emotional labour you endured while making the record, just melted away. You opened the Twitter app and read through the first few tweets of excited fans who were live-tweeting their first listen to the album. You smiled at all their anticipation, typing their initial thoughts in all caps.

And soon the texts came rolling in. Your manager, peers, friends from school, the head of your label, and…him.

Just listened to it all. I can’t believe I know someone as talented as you. Seriously. Just wow.

The text touched your heart. You’d sent a very similar message when Being Funny was released, all of it true. It was a truly heartfelt and all-over fantastic record, you were just glad you could live up to that standard. You quickly typed a response.

Oh you flatter me! 

Ping! An immediate reply back.

I try…

This was the first time you’d properly spoken in months. It felt so good. It was almost like you’d gotten your Matty back–something you wished for so deeply.

I meant what I said in the ig post btw. I wanna be friends.

The second you pressed send, you were worried you’d overstepped, and when the typing bubble appeared on the screen.

Me too.

-And then another message.

Are you busy right now? I still have a 92 Bordeaux I haven’t opened…

Your favourite wine. You typed another text.

I’ll be over in 10.

It was a short walk. A route you’d thought about taking time and time again in your lowest times. Though now you were riding a hit of euphoria like no other.

You still knew the code to his apartment block–after all, it was once yours too–so you could get in easily, placing four firm knocks on his door.

When he opened the door, you were met with a sight for sore eyes. Without thinking you launched on him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You could feel him freeze for a second, before relaxing into your grasp, arms going around your waist.

You forgot his scent, the musk mixed with tobacco smoke–something that on anyone else could very well be repulsive, but not on Matty, never on Matty.

“We should get inside,” he said, muffled from his face being pressed into your shoulder.

“Okay,” you chuckled. 

You finally let go of him and you felt so suddenly cold without contact. You walked through the door and you were hit with the memories of when it was home for you–the good and bad.

Matty had set up the dark bottle on the coffee table with two glasses. He knew you always liked to open the bottle yourself so it was left still wrapped, a bottle opener laying next to it. You couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself at the sight of it, knowing that Matty still remembered.

You placed your bag on the armrest of the sofa and got to your job, unpeeling the foil and prying open the bottle. You pocketed the cork, you wanted something to remember this night by.

Matty was simply watching you from his normal spot on the sofa as you poured the two glasses and handed one to him.

“I should tell you again…” he started after you made yourself comfortable on the sofa you both spent months picking out. “It’s a fucking good album.”

“Thanks, darling,” you smiled.

“I’m serious! I could never have written something so…tender and so..so personal. Ever.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you joked, he laughed.

“And I want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You’re not completely blameless in all this! We’ve both said and done…things,” you argued.

“I know, I just…I could never deal with you hating me.”

“Matthew. I could never hate you.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy blurb #matty healy fic

[abiiors]

“Come here and rest next to me. You’ve worked hard enough today.” for Ross please, reader works a highly stressful job, long hours etc and Ross would love her to give it up but she feels like she will rely on him too much if she doesn’t work

I love writing soft Ross so thank you for the ask 🥺

I’ve changed the actual dialogue a smidge to fit the context but here you go <3

Exhaustion

Ross is already making coffee for the third time today. 

He’s in the kitchen, waiting for the french press to do its thing, while he gets your favourite mug out for you. It’s yellow, printed with tulips all over; a cute little thing he randomly saw in a little shop in Chicago that instantly made him think of you. But the mug fails to brighten him up today. 

‘Do you want some snacks with it, love?’ he calls out from the kitchen, strains his ear for your answer but nothing. The house is silent. 

He doesn’t bother asking again. If you want some, then he’ll just run back to the kitchen and get it for you. Instead, he picks up the steaming mug and makes his way to the study. 

You sit hunched over on the comfy chair, knees pulled to your chest, chin resting on top. The music in your ears is so loud that he can practically hear the heavy guitar riff outside of your headphones. 

‘I got you coffee, darling,’ he calls out but you don’t budge. 

Your eyes are wide open, focused on the laptop in front of you, staring at the document on the screen intently, one hand rests on the mouse, the other massages your temples and your neck every so often. 

‘Coffee, darling,’ he calls out again and tries to pull your headphones back with one hand. 

You startle slightly and swivel in the chair to look at him. ‘Jesus!’ you breathe, hand on your chest and then your eyes move from him to the mug in his hands. ‘Oh, thank you. I’m getting so drowsy, honestly.’ 

He hands you the mug which you accept gratefully, sighing at the first sip. Which is how you miss his assessing gaze on you and the frown that comes right after.

‘So take a break for a bit.’

You look at him as if he’s just suggested the wildest thing possible. And he realises that he’s going to have to put up a fight.

The table you’re working on is cluttered. There are papers strewn haphazardly and some files are peaking out from underneath. Pens with their caps missing, a plate of half-eaten toast and marmalade. The previous two cups of coffee; one with dried brown remnants and the other with cold, stale liquid still in it. This is not a good sign, not a good sign at all. 

‘Come on,’ he nudges again, ‘when was the last time you got up from that chair?’

But you won’t answer him because he knows you don’t have an answer for him. It leaves him no choice but to grab the chair and swivel it some more to properly face him. 

‘Not now, Ross!’ you complain, already trying to move your attention back to the laptop, ‘I need to get this done today.’ But he’s having none of it.

‘Even if it kills you?’ he challenges.

You roll your eyes and scoff lightly, ‘let’s not be dramatic, okay?’

Okay, so you’re not in the best of moods but this conversation can’t wait. ‘I’m not being dramatic,’ he tries as gently as possible. His intention is not to antagonise, he simply needs you to listen to him. 

‘You were up until 2:30 last night. I know because I woke up to find the lights still on.’ He's kneeling down in front of your chair now, his hands in your lap and yours clutching onto the coffee cup for dear life. ‘And you’ve been awake since 7 back here again.’

Now that he’s looking at you intently, he realises that he does not like what he sees. The bags under your eyes are worse than ever. There’s a permanent frown etched onto your face. And worst of all are your red eyes. He knows you’ve been straining them for far longer than you should be, that they must be burning by now. And you look like you're minutes away from crying at all times. 

Even now as you try to look at him with exasperation, he still sees you holding back tears. Worry twists in his gut, surges urgently.

‘Baby, I understand,’ you swallow past the lump in your throat before speaking again, ‘I know I haven’t spent much time with you this week—’

‘This is not about me,’ he interrupts firmly, shaking his head. 'This is about you.'

You close your eyes for so long that he wonders if you’ve fallen asleep on the spot. But then your hands move, bringing up the mug in front of your mouth again. This time, however, you press it against your forehead instead of taking a sip. He watches as you lean into the warmth of the mug, as your face relaxes just a smidge and he knows what’s happening. 

‘You have a headache.’ It’s not a question. It’s a statement. 

You don’t even take a beat before answering. ‘The coffee will fix it.’ 

Now he truly can’t help his exasperation. ‘No, sleep will fix it,’ he retorts. He knew you are hardworking but when did you become such a workaholic? He can barely recall three moments from this week when you didn’t have a laptop or some files in front of you, when you just sat with him and talked. Or slept. 

‘Alright, that’s it!' he stands up to make a point. He is serious about this and he's going to be stern if he needs to. 'You either come with me right now or I’m carrying you out of here. You need to rest. You’ve worked hard enough for today.’

And he’s absolutely ready to do it too. He’s also prepared to argue that you don’t need to work so much at all, that he’s perfectly capable of taking care of you but that is a subject he will not happily broach again. Your opinions on it are clear to him and he can’t bring himself to take your independence away. Besides, the pressure aside, he knows how much you love your job. 

He also fully knows he can pick you up and carry you out with him and straight to bed. You would be mad at first and might even try to argue with him but he’s willing to risk a sour mood if that means you get some proper shut-eye. 

To his surprise, your lower lip wobbles. And in the smallest, most heart-breaking voice he’s ever heard from you, you utter one single word. 

‘Okay.’

Ross wastes no time in setting the mug and shutting the laptop for you. He holds your hand in his all the way to your bedroom and helps you get in. Even tucks you in like a little kid. Then he climbs in from the other side and pulls you on half on top of him.

‘I’m sorry I made you worry,’ you speak in a small voice. 

He can see the effects of lying down, your eyes are already half shut. Your voice practically comes out as a whisper. And so he tightens his arms around you further.

‘Forget about that for now, okay?’ he presses a kiss into your hair and stays like that. Then his fingers come up to play with a few strands of your hair, just the way you like it.

It takes little to no time for your breathing to deepen, for you to snuggle further into him. All he can do is hope that he can have a proper chat with you about this when you wake up.

#ross macdonald #ross x reader #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald x you #ross x you #ross the 1975 #ross macdonald fic #the 1975 #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fluff #the 1975 fanfic #angst if you squint? #actually nah #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #asks #fluff #hurt/comfort

[hualianff]

Thinking about modern au artist HC who excels at various traditional art forms including ceramics, painting, and sculpting. Soon enough, the time comes for HC to learn the witchcraft that is digital art.

And man is it a phat STRUGGLE.

In general, HC talks out loud to himself during his artistic process - a quirk that XL (the husband) can’t help but find endearing.

(HC waiting for his shit to render: “anytime now…preferably within the next century…” 🙄

HC shading: “what if we make you a little darker? just like that…hmm, I don’t hate it-??”

HC, confused: *aggressively scribbles on the screen* “HELLO?? WHY ARENT YOU BLENDING!?”

HC trying to find the layer where the stoopid random black dot is: “I WILL find you. I MUST…”

HC undoing one stroke a thousand times: “nope” *undos* “nope” *undos* “fuck you” *undos*)

***

Cue HC internally crying every month because “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH MY STYLE??” 😭😭

***

HC bent over his desk like shrimp. 🦐

XL insists HC takes breaks, for food and general rest. He massages HC’s neck, shoulders, back, and hands - HC naturally melts back into his beloved’s hands.

HC has a folder on his desktop titled “gege’s masterpieces” which are all of XL’s drawings for HC.

***

SQX: “ohmygod can you draw me!?”

HC: “nu”

HC goes back to drawing portraits of XL.

***

HC watching the piece he spent days drawing get surpassed in likes by a dumb doodle of his pets he did when battling artblock: “make it make sense” 😡

XL: “it’s because you made e’ming and ruoye so cute!” 🥰

***

Imagine HC mindlessly twirling his apple pen between his long fingers, even while he’s pacing around their apartment.

He also tends to play with the cap of the charging plug, resulting in him constantly losing it!! It’s such a tiny, white thing - it could be anywhere…

Somehow, XL magically finds the cap in the most unassuming places and puts it somewhere safe so he can hand it back when HC’s already pulling his hair out.

***

XL hangs his favorite pieces of HC’s artwork around their apartment !!

When guests come over for the first time, they’ll stare at the beautifully framed art pieces in awe.

And XL will proudly say,” oh, this is actually all of San Lang’s work! Isn’t he amazing?” 😊

***

Many people think HC’s signature is a distinct symbol, shape, or even an obscure drawing with a hidden message. In turn, this has caused HUGE debates on Twitter about what the signature actually means.

One popular stan account had successfully gathered clues over the years. After comparing a lot of pics, lives, doodles, etc., they come to the conclusion that the signature is actually a word.

But what exactly does it say?

Still unknown.

And when some indie magazine goes and interviews HC, THEY HAVE TO ASK.

Interviewer: “Crimson Rain, you must tell us, we’re begging, what does your signature mean? It’s been a topic of WAR for years amongst your fans!”

HC: “oh, it’s just my name”

Everyone: ☠️🤡☠️🤡☠️

Interviewer: “would you mind demonstrating for us?”

HC, shrugging: “sure”

HC, messing up the second stroke of his name: “wait no, let me restart”

***

Twitter trending tags:

#WHAT

#THAT’S HIS HAND WRITING???

#IM JARED 19

#CRIMSON RAIN

#HAND WRITING

#THIS WHOLE TIME !?

(2)

***

W/ @no-one-says-hi

#tgcf #heaven official’s blessing #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #modern au #cerdrabbles #artist struggles #funny

[dogboyklug]

UH-OH! a comic about being trans. by me. part one of probably three :]

i felt bad about being transmasc so i decided to just give up and write about it until i hopefully didnt. i feel a little better getting this all on digital paper but there's still. a lot to draw. so. oops

i'll be posting the next parts. whenever they're ready (which will hopefully be soon) and linking them all here, so whenever you want just check back with the base post and i'll prolly add some links and maybe clean things up. yay!

text transcript / partial ID under the cut!

transcript:

looking back, there were a few signs i might have been trans.

[a sequence of events showing little me flinching and going "ow" at being called his deadname, little me reading a book and going "haha im like a tomboy but i dont like sports or being active or anything im just. a boy. haha", and little me having an active breakdown, crying and holding his glasses, with partially obscured text in a dark cloud around him. the only text visible shows his thoughts, and shows he's worrying that he's sexist for mostly only liking and relating to boy characters.]

...some.

however.

there were also a few things i considered signs of me not being trans at all.

EXHIBIT A:

[a drawing of little me, looking at his 3ds. he's thinking "as long as i make sure that i always play as the 'main girl character' in these games i wont cry because im a girl because i wont be me as a girl i'll be Them. roleplaying. as them".]

no dysphoria.

[caps] EXHIBIT B: [end caps]

[a crude drawing of little me staring at nothing. he's thinking "i don't hate women. and i don't like being mean to other people."]

[caps] I WAS A FEMINIST. [end caps]

and not toxically masculine.

i knew about trans people, but i didn't know trans MEN existed.

[a drawing of little me, with the caption "clueless". he's staring slightly up, and saying "huh?!"]

my mom was nonbinary, with a few trans friends, but people [caps] WANTING??? TO BE MEN??? [end caps]

to be

gross,

disgusting,

hateful,

cruel,

oppressive,

men?

[the background slowly gets darker until it reaches the final word, and that word is a significantly bigger font than the rest of the words.]

for a while, primarily due to my lack of research

[drawing of little me, staring at his computer (which is labeled "deviantArt machine") and going 'huh'.]

i figured, if i WAS trans, I was probably a trans women.

but of course, that was silly

you can't be a trans woman if you're already afab.

and there's no other ways of being trans,

right?

[a crudely-drawn drawing of a deviantArt favorite's tab. none of the favorited pieces have any detail, though several are the same width and length as classic deviantArt stamps.]

hm.

hmmmmm...

[a crudely-drawn drawing of a representation of one of the favorited stamps. it's a massive, pink stamp with the text "SHE/HER!" in it in all caps and pink lettering. bottom text states it is a "she/her pronouns badge by ...", though the rest is cut off.]

HMMMM...

[a picture of a mouse hovering over the 'favorite/unfavorite' button. the star is filled in, indicating clicking it would unfavorite the piece.]

[two wordless panels, side-by-side, showing little me staring at his screen, hovering his cursor over the unfavorite button.]

[two more panels, showing that little me has unfavorited the she/her badge. the panel showing his face shows he is grinning wildly, his hair has poofed up in excitement, and his glasses are now blue-ish purple.]

OHO!!!!!!!!!!!!1

.................and that's

quite literally

how it happened.

before i knew how bad the entire site was, i would frequent dA. CONSTANTLY.

it was baby's very first "social media" webpt site.

[a drawing of a tiny, cartoonish kitten with a small turf of hair, staring at wonder up at a computer, one hand on the mousepad. it is labeled "dramatic reenactment of me making my d a account."]

i wasn't really SHELTERED as a kid, i just didnt know fuck for shit, and my baby anxiety made learning annoyingly hard.

so i turned to memes as a sort of wire mother as opposed to my real, cloth one.

jokes can be easier to understand than reality, sometimes.

(this isnt a good thing.)

so, i sort-of-came-out on deviantart, home of the wacky, wild and weird, where i learned he/him pronouns were an option, and a choice.

[a drawing of little me, with blue glasses, gazing up at the sky and smiling triumphantly.]

and some crazy trauma but that's for a different comic. if i make it.

[a drawing of little me being hit with a cartoonish star, which is meant to represent the trauma.]

sooo...

that's it, right?

[little me, with a cartoony bandage on his head, gently rubbing his wound.]

my mom was supportive & anyone who wasn't ...isn't in the picture now

that's the end

...right?.

end transcript.

#trans #trans man #transmasculine #ftm #comic #webcomic #klug's sketches #hoo boy this is rlly fucking personal so im a little scared BUT #im happy w it and that is what matters

[qqtxt]

[🐯] 1:11am wish (came true)

✿ pairing: beomgyu x you / female reader / angst if you squint, but mostly fluff, sexual innuendos but nothing explicit / 3,793 words / reader calls him ‘gyu’ / minor cursing / mentions of food and eating ✿ in which beomgyu returns back from tour, and the first place he stops by is your apartment, surprising you in the middle of the night. ✿ a/n: i couldn’t help myself! i think i like this pairing :”) my heART– [masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet​ ✨

note: written in mind to be a continuation of ‘1:11am wish (you’ll stay)’ but can also be read as a standalone ;w;

seven more days, beomgyu promises. seven more torturous days and it’ll be over, he’ll be in your arms, you’ll be in his arms and he’ll never leave you (until the next announcement is released, so you’ll live in your fantasy as much as you want).

this time around, it’s... not to say it’s easier, but it feels like the tough days were easier to manage. there are still some bad days, as there are good ones. both of you were rather independent people; having alone time was something you two benefited from the time away but there... there are times where there’s crying over the phone, shakily recorded voice notes, unable to show each other’s face on video because of how badly the loneliness and longing affected the other’s face.

but there’s the good things, too. giddily smiling over each other’s photos being sent, promises like i’ll bring you here next time, just the two of us. it’s so pretty here. all i can think about is how perfect it would be if you were here with me. jokes like what if you come back and i have a dog? and beomgyu’s already barking with rejection of hell no. not yet. i can’t be fighting for your attention against a dog. i’ll lose.

then, there’s now. the present.

like... literally. beomgyu’s just landed and he has only one place on the top of his list: wherever you are.

the second they find their footing at the airport, he starts to move quickly with his manager as he detours away from the boys, promising to meet in a few days. they already see how happy he is despite wearing a mask and sunglasses, with his cap on. upon hopping into the van, luggage in the trunk, he pulls out his phone and sees the five messages that come from...

[y/n 💛] i’m gonna head to bed now, i feel tired today. goodnight and i love you, gyu 🧡🧡🧡 [1:10am]

[y/n 💛] oh sh [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] it’s 1:11!!! [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] i wish for you to come back now. right now. yes. just get on a damned plane and come back to me. [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] i’m kidding, i know you’ll be back in a few days but i just miss you, okay? anyway i’ll talk to you tomorrow 🥴 [1:11am]

with his tongue in cheek, he decides not to reply as he locks his phone and rests it on his lap. his manager is well-aware of where to drop him off, so no words are said on the way there. it does take a while, so he leans back in his seat and his foot is impatiently tapping on the floor. as he does so, he peeps at his phone and presses the lock screen button.

the time reveals to be 2:10am, but what catches his eyes is his lock screen image. if those saw it at a first glance, they won’t notice it. it’s at one of the places well-known for cherry blossoms and one might say it’s just an aesthetic photo of the scenery. but if you look closely, there’s your silhouette trying to reach for one of the flowers, only to huff when you can’t reach it and beomgyu remembers trying to help you reach it, only for the both of you to fall down into the pile of flowers and laugh when the pain subsides.

he remembers holding you, leaning in to kiss you and remembering just how magical it all felt. how it feels like when he’s with you. even in the simplest, most mundane and boring things felt fun with you. seriously, who the hell enjoys laundry? this guy, apparently, when the both of you make a dance beat with the sounds from the washing machine doing it’s last cycle and then trying to see who can hang the clothes the fastest. or how about that time–”yah, choi beomgyu, wake up.”

he snaps his eyes open with a flinch, now seeing his door is open with his manager–”oh... we’re here?”

“quickly go in before anyone sees you,” his manager chuckles, already placing his luggage on the sidewalk so that beomgyu can scurry on in. he doesn’t have too much trouble making his way up, and all the buffering in between is only making him feel more and more anxious to get to you; to see you, to hold you–oh god, to have you in his arms.

beomgyu stands by your apartment door and fumbles for the key in his wallet. he brings it with him everywhere and makes sure he has a spare in his bag just in case, but he always has one in his wallet. he fishes it out next to the slot of a polaroid image of the both of you; smiling, it was on his birthday and it was a private celebration at his parent’s house where his older brother took the photo for the pair of you–i can’t believe my brother found someone who matches his energy... can you please tame him, somehow? beomgyu scoffs a laugh when he glances at the picture, more so at the memory.

his eyes looking at the key reminds him what he’s here for and he’s so shaky he can’t even open the door properly. he manages with whatever glimmer of stability he has left and he trudges in. his eyes snap shut when he makes a bunch of noise on his way in but sighs when it all falls quiet. (well, it better be, it’s literally two in the morning)

he puts his bags down to the side quietly and removes his jacket, mask, sunglasses and cap. he gives himself a little shake and exhales deeply before he start to make his way to your bedroom. your door is left ajar, to which he places his hand on it to push it open enough for him to step through.

the light that shines from your hallway dimly illuminates the feature on your face as you slept facing the door this time. what a blessing. he resists the urge to take a photo, knowing very well he’ll mess that up, and quite frankly, he can’t think straight at the sight of seeing you.

you’re here, he’s here. this is all real. hours, days, weeks and months leading up to this moment and he’s having a heart attack on his own before passing on that virus to you. he carefully gets on his knees, kneeling before you as he has one hand on your waist, the other stroking the side of your head.

“y/n,” he calls out softly, careful not to startle you, but he’s trying so, so hard not to be impatient. “y/n, wake up.”

it takes a couple of seconds when you make sounds and shift a little, but soon your eyes peel open. he smiles at you softly, stretching out to a grin but then it starts to fade when you don’t react the way he thought you would. either squealing out of bed and jumping into his arms, tackling him on the floor. or combusting into a bundle of joy, scream, shout, anything.

it was the opposite.

you looked... sad. (and still so beautiful that it doesn’t feel fair)

“i can’t believe this is happening again...” you murmur quietly, one of your hands tucked to hug yourself, the other meekly reaching out to touch his face. he gapes at your touch and tries not to move as he watches you, seeing how sadness continues to fill your eyes the more you stare at him, thumb stroking his cheek. “it feels so real.”

he can’t stop himself, the words come out before he can filter it: “what does?”

it hits him. 

it finally hits him when you say: “my dream...”

you press your lips into a thin line, swallowing thickly as a stray tear rolls down your cheek and seeping into your pillow. beomgyu frowns, his features twisting to mirror the ache in his heart as he hears your torn voice. “this one’s gonna hurt in the morning, isn’t it?”

he tries to comfort you, but quite frankly, he doesn’t know what to do.

“w-what if this isn’t a dream?” his hand reaches to overlap yours on his face, and it makes you chuckle, but he doesn’t sense any happiness in your tone. it’s just... it’s miserable, depressing, lifeless.

“i’m going crazy,” you sigh, hand slipping from his grasp and onto the bed, eyelids closing as your voice trails off, “gyu’s going to have a long-ass voice note before he sleeps tomorrow...”

beomgyu watches as you succumb back to sleep, shaking his head at the sight because he’s conflicted. in some way, it makes him happy because that’s... that’s the sight of progress right there. it hasn’t been easy to completely be vulnerable to someone, but through the days and weeks apart, beomgyu’s seeing the change through each voice note that reveals your worries and late night messages of i miss you, today feels harder than the other days... i just want to hold you.

soon, baby. i’ll be back soon, and i’m all yours then but...

but what?

i’m still all yours now, though.

gross.

it’s you staying true to promising him you’ll do your best to let him know when the days are hard, when you need extra reassurance, when you miss him a bit too much; and it’s proof right here that you’re trying, even when it’s emotionally taxing.

but the other part of him–fuck–he just wants you to believe that he’s home.

he takes a moment to think and... he knows that maybe now’s not the right time to tell you if you won’t believe him. so what he does is he heads back out to rummage through his bag to change into more comfortable attire to sleep in; a simple black shirt and shorts before he makes his way back into your bedroom. you’re still soundly asleep and beomgyu tries not to wake you (he’s not really trying, he’ll be more than glad if you woke up...) as he joins you in bed.

you shift a little, turning around to face him and he’s able to rest easy, looking at you as you took in short breaths of air and you slept. it may not have been the way he wanted to surprise you, but he’ll be honest, he was dead tired too. perhaps tomorrow will work out better. for now, he’ll take all he can as long as he’s by your side and he’s able to rest easy knowing tomorrow when you’re by his side, he knows it’s not a dream.

//

morning. the sunlight kisses your eyes as you peel them open with a soft grunt. it’s a weekend, thank fuck for that because you’re about to pour out your emotions to a poorly recorded voice note as your heart sinks to your gut. your arm reaches out to your table, anticipating for where your phone is but you–what–what the hell–who the hell–your eyes snap open and panic alarms you as you sit up and unknowingly–”g-gyu... no, am i still asleep?” 

you give yourself a couple of pats to the face, rubbing your eyes, but each time you blink to your side, it’s... it’s not going away.

beomgyu’s here. he’s laying next to you in bed, frown on his face as he wakes up with a grumble–five more minutes... he whines, curling towards your body, arms snaking around your waist to lure you back to bed as he buries his face against the side of your thigh.

you gulp and feel your hands shaking, your body slowly spiralling into madness at the thought of him being here; unannounced, yet, fitting so perfectly whenever he’s around. you feel the emotions coming all at once, especially after that little hiccup last night at the thought of dreaming of him and now he’s actually here. it’s all hard to process that you’re not making any coherent noises because soon, your feelings get bigger and bigger, the tears start to sting your eyes and–beomgyu peeks his eyes open, about to reign his excitement all over you, only to sit up hurriedly despite sleep still heavy in his system.

he shakes his head, eyes widening in fear, “h-hey, hey hey,” he murmurs softly, hands settling on your shoulders and pulling you close to him. he makes you situate your face in the spot between his neck and shoulder, one of your legs scooting over between his legs so he can hug you closer and his arms circle around you.

almost immediately he feels at home; this is where his home is, with you, beside you, having you in his arms. but the sounds of you crying makes his heart ache because he knows the pain all too well. he knows of the nights of wanting to hold him but he’s so far away. he understands the feeling of looking at your picture and going to sleep, hoping he’ll see you in his dreams because that’s where you’re the closest when you’re thousands of miles away. he tastes the tears he cries in the shower when the longing is too hurtful and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else but you–so he resorts to masking it from others.

so seeing you like this, hearing you like this, it’s a relief being able to cry in each other’s arms but it still pains him every time you cry.

he gives you all the time you need... after all, he’s the one who came uninvited –even though he knows he’s welcomed all the time–but it’s not everyday you wake up to having your significant other return from a long tour and the next morning when you wake up they’re in bed with you. your cries slowly fade as you let go of all your pent up emotions and your hands can finally start searching for him that he decides it’s a good time now to start talking.

“is my baby done crying so i can get a good look at that pretty face?” he coos into your ears, making you huff as you nudge him by the chest so he can lean back to look at you.

he already has this shit-eating-grin on his face, even though he looks like he’s shed a couple of tears but you’re clearly on the worse end here. as you rub your nose with the back of your hand, beomgyu reaches up with his free hand, the other holding you around the waist so he can cup your cheek, brushing the tears away with his thumb.

“augh, look at you, still so cute and gorgeous.”

you still can’t speak, the shock numbing you to the point that even looking at him in the eyes is about to make you cry again. he shifts his position so that he’s straddling you, sitting on your stretched out legs on the bed and he cups your face in his hands, making you look up to him. the light that illuminates his silhouette makes you wary, your hands resisting to hold him because what if, what if he’s not really here?

he senses your hesitance and pouts, lightly squishing your cheeks, “you’re hurting my feelings here. not even gonna hold me? after so long?”

he loosens his hold on you and leans closer, so that you can reach up to touch his face. after a couple of seconds, and him nuzzling against your palm, you reach up with your other hand and hold his face. it’s a long pausing moment, looking at him like this, holding him like this. your heart slowly allows the pain to subside, sinking in reality as this... this is real.

beomgyu’s here.

he’s home.

he yelps when you lunge forward, and he has to brace himself to catch you before the both of you topple over and off the bed. he starts to laugh happily, even when you’re crying in his neck–a different reason this time–and it all welcomes him home. the quiet sighs, the deep intakes of air you force into your lungs, the grabbing; the desperation to feel him, more of him, reaching wherever you can as he holds you up in his arms. he longs for it, his heart, feels full at the feeling of you appreciating his presence so much, he tries not to cry, not now, at least. he’ll know he’ll crack later, but he’ll resist now to be that pillar for you.

he shifts around so that he’s able to lay down on the bed with you still clinging onto him, laying on top as you take all the time you need to recuperate with the fact he’s actually here. he strokes the back of your head, down to your lower back, and all over again in a calming gesture. the heavy breathing ebbs away, and soon, the calmness takes over; happiness radiating when you move yourself from chest and sit up on his lap.

he sits up as well, and since you’re straddling him, it’s easy to come face-to-face with close to no room between your bodies. the change of position surprises you, but he watches as how adoration and infatuation fills your eyes at each waking moment that it’s not a dream to you. your hands hold his face again, and he’s able to smile up to you this time.

there’s so much you want to say, but you know you won’t be able to coherently form it now. with the way beomgyu’s looking up to you, blinking in a daze, you know he somehow can read your mind.

you feel smaller... your face, slimmer than in the photos, videos, fan cameras... you look tired, but happy. tired happy. you’re here, that’s the most important. you’re here, oh god, you’re actually here.

you say so much without saying anything at all, and it tugs on his heartstrings the longer he looks at you, as if he’s trying to memorise this very image. the light that outlines your silhouette almost scares him that this could’ve been a dream for him too. but as you kiss his forehead and lean your forehead against his, it’s a reminder that it isn’t.

“didn’t hurt in the morning, did it?” beomgyu says, raising a brow at you as his hands squeeze your waist.

he watches as confusion morphs your features, a small pout forming.

“how’d... how did you know that?” 

it seems like you recollect your dream, especially when you sound so skeptical that he’s able to reference something that... that was... wait. wait a fucking–

“i’m hurt, you know? you said you’d hug me, kiss me senseless, maybe even let me fill you up when i’m back but when i am, all you do is go back to sleep.” he feigns being hurt, but he can’t help himself to laugh when you don’t react in the way he thought you would. your eyes widen so much, it doesn’t look like you’ve been crying for the past thirty minutes.

“t-that was real?!” your jaw drops, body frozen, “you were already home?!”

he pouts, and nods.

“but you just went back to sleep. such a meanie.” 

beomgyu can only watch, living in the moment and he’s always, always going to remember this for the rest of his life. the surprise on your face, the shock coming in a second wave of disbelief... but all in the best ways possible. your mouth tries to formulate words, your mind seems to disconnect from your entire being–you have indeed, been bamboozled.

he gives you a moment, only to notice that he probably lost you. he’s made you lost your train of thought. the disconnect was very much visible. 

“you need more time to process things, baby?” he grins up to you, clearly enjoying every second of this, but when you still don’t know what to say.

he tests the waters by shifting a little, and when he sees that you’re responsive, he carefully tries to lay you down beneath him. as his elbows rest between your head as he holds himself up, him situating between your legs, you gape at him when there are telltales of what’s about to escalate. your hands reach up to hold onto his shoulders, then going through his hair.

innocently, at first, because it’s been so long, but the switch in beomgyu’s eyes as your fingers go through the strands, the way your eyes look up to him in admiration, then as you try to scan his features, he’s fixated on your eyes, nose, cheeks... lips. the second his eyes trail from your lips back to your eyes, you know it’s game over when he leans down to kiss you.

thank goodness it was a weekend... because it was going to be a very long weekend now that beomgyu was back.

((”how could you leave me like that?” beomgyu huffs, standing by the door of your kitchen as you put the pot to boil water. he watches as you turn around, clad in just one of his shirts over your body and a pair of shorts on, hair still a mess but god, this is the sight beomgyu wishes to see all the time. he stands there with his arms crossed over his bare chest, a pair of boxers lining his hips, small frown on his lips.

you chuckle and spread your arms out, already cooing at him to enter your embrace he very much willingly runs towards.

“i got hungry, you’re probably hungry, too.” your arm circles around his shoulders, the other ruffling his hair, “just wanted to make some ramen for us.”

he sighs into your shoulder, about to comment on how lucky he is but then his mind overtakes to something else when he–”i probably didn’t wear you out enough since you’re able to come here by yourself.”

he feels you stiffening in his hold and you try to resist when he pulls back. with not much resistance, he manages to lean back with a smug look on his face, especially when you don’t respond.

“i wonder...”

“w-what?”

“you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, right?”

“choi beomgyu, i’m warning you. we’re meeting the boys in a couple of days!”

he snickers, pulling you close to him by the waist when you try to lean away, “yeah, in a couple of days... you should be able to walk by then.”

“...”

“...no objections?”

“can we at least eat something first? i’m starving...”

when you blink up to him with a small pout, he relents with a sigh, “augh, fine. you’re lucky you’re cute.” he leans in, whispering into your ears, “but after this meal, though, i’m having second rounds of you.”))

#kflixnet #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu #beomgyu

[tllgrrl]

Sweet Potato Pie by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Week 1, Day 2 Prompt: “Sweet Potato Pie” | SFW

Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, and Special Guest Cameo: Sam Wilson

* * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Sarah’s boys were already at the grandparents in Atlanta, and the original plan was that Sam would be in NYC with Misty, the restaurant would be closed until Friday, and Bucky would be home with her for a nice, quiet (maybe not so quiet) Wednesday, then the two of them would make a Thanksgiving Day drive to Atlanta to stay until Sunday, when the boys would come back with them to Delacroix.

That was the plan.

Then came the phone call, and there she was hearing about how some shit had popped off on the other side of the world in a place that she wasn’t privy to know for her own safety, and in the blink of an eye she was on the front porch, kissing Bucky goodbye before dawn…again.

“I’m sorry, nandi,” he said softly, his forehead touching hers.

“I know, baby. It is what it is,” she answered, pulling his dog tags over her head and onto his neck. “Just come back to me in one piece.”

“I will.”

“You better.”

“Save me some Sweet Potato Pie,” he says over his shoulder, walking toward the van.

“Me too!” someone yelled from the passenger seat.

“Ha! I’ll think about it, Cap.”

“You’re the meanest sister ever!”

“No she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is.”

“It’s called Tough Love, Samuel.”

“Just get in the car. You and that Tough Love bullsh—“

“Language!”

“What?!?”

She’s used to it by now. It’s sort of The Other Family Business: Superheroes.

This time, however, when the SUV drove off with her brother and her lover, the second the vehicle made that turn out of the driveway, she sat on the front step, and had a good, angry cry.

After a few minutes, she dried her eyes on her (on Bucky’s) t-shirt, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Enough of that…”

She got up, went into the house, picked up her cellphone, a notepad and pencil, pressed a speed dial number, and started making plans.

Evening, on the Other Side of the World…

Bucky dragged himself into the tiny old hotel room, dropped his backpack on the dresser, closed the curtains, checked the room for bugs...and bugs, then he turned on the old school TV set (complete with rabbit ears) and clicked the old remote until he found a futbol match.

He could still smell the light fragrance of Sarah’s hair conditioner, and feel her body against his when he kissed her goodbye.

“Damn…” he mumbled, reaching deep into his backpack and pulling out a small brown bag of plums.

“Happy Thanksg—“

Someone knocked on the door.

He retrieved one of his fixed blade knives from a compartment in the backpack, and waited.

Another knock, this time in a familiar pattern.

“Yo, Buck?”

Bucky opened the door to find Sam standing there with what looked like a box wrapped in a thermal blanket. There was also a smaller flat box sitting on top of it.

“Hey, come in. What’s all that?”

“It’s a special delivery. This goes with it.”

Sam handed him a six pack of a local beer, and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket.

“I got one too. Seems like we weren’t going to be spending the holiday away from…well, go’on open your envelope. I’m heading back to my room for mine.”

“What—?”

“Don’t ask me. Just open this envelope. Have a good evening, Buck.”

“Um…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome, Cyborg Man.”

Bucky heard Sam chuckle as he closed the door.

He moved his laptop to the bed and placed the boxes on the small table in the corner, opened the envelope, and picked up his cellphone, smiling as he dialed the encrypted number on the StarkTech phone.

“Hey, nandi.”

“Hey yourself, mthandi.”

“Can I see you?”

“Of course. Hold on…”

Their screens both go black, then they see each other.

He gently touches her cheek on his screen, and she touches his cheek on hers.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Wait. Have you…? James. Open the boxes.”

“Boxes? Oh!!”

Bucky unwrapped the large box first and when he opened the seal, steam wafted out, and delicious aromas filled the room.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, or his nose.

It was a whole meal of turkey, dressing, greens, cornbread and slices of his favorite: Sarah’s meatloaf. There was even a separate container of a serving of gumbo.

“Baby…” he chuckled, eyes beginning to brim, “what…what did you—?”

“I figured, since we couldn’t be together like we planned, we could at least…well… shoot, I wasn’t gonna cry…”

Bucky was wiping his eyes as well.

“Sarah…this is just…did Sam get—should I go get—?“

“No. He’s good. Probably on the phone with Misty right about now. The two of us got together. She arranged to have a QuinnJet bring me to New York not long after you left. She knew the team’s prep schedule, so we did our shopping, spent a day cooking, and had the boxes loaded onto the transport before departure.

I asked Torres to make sure neither of you knew about the boxes until you were at your destination. Misty and I made him a combo plate from both of us.”

“I don’t know what to…Thank you, intanda. This is…”

“Close the box, put the heat blanket back on it, get cleaned up and comfy. I’ll wait, so we can have dinner together. Okay?”

Bucky wiped his eyes and picked up the small brown bag, showing her what was inside, “I was gonna have these plums.”

“Have them for breakfast. Your dessert is in the pie box.”

“My dessert is in Delacroix, where I should be right now,” he says in that tone that makes her toes curl in that good way.

“Boy, stop!” she giggles.

He hears Sarah giggle and it makes him want to run all the way back to Louisiana, Secret Empire wannabees and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

He opened the box and she watched him bite his lip in anticipation. Bites his lip in that way.

She sees him bite his lip and she wants to run to him, Louisiana swamps and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

“You’re still saving me a slice for when I get home, right?”

“Of course! I brought you over to Team Sweet Potato Pie. No way I’m letting you backslide back to pumpkin! Not as long as we’re—“

“Come’ere, you,” he laughs, walking the phone into the bathroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Getting ready for a quick shower.”

She can see his metal hand and the bathroom ceiling, then the phone tips forward and now she can see him. Most of him. He repositions the phone again and now she can see a goodly amount of him.

He reached into the shower, turned on the tap, then faced the camera, took off his shirt, and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“Want to tell me what you’re doing, mthandi?” Sarah said, before draining her entire glass of sweet tea because The Thirst was real.

“Taking a shower so I can get ready for dinner with my intanda,” he smiled. “Care to join me?”

“Are you taking your phone into the—“

“Sure am. What! It’s waterproof.”

* * * * * * * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2023 - Week 1: “Food” - Day 2: “Sweet Potato Pie”

Also posted on The AO3.

Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes #sarah wilson #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarah wilson/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/sarah wilson #sam wilson #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve month #fleurdelouve month 2023 #week 1 #prompt food #sarahbucky fanfiction #fan fiction

[hungrywriter]

Unexpected (Pt. 1)

Charles Leclerc x F1!female!driver

Uses she/her pronouns

“Last lap, Y/n. You’re in P1 now. Give everything you’ve got.” Y/n’s boss spoke through her radio. Hearing that she was the leader of the race made her more alert. After a quick glance at her side mirrors, she noticed Charles Leclerc catching up. Slowly, she increased her speed, summoning the last of her energy. The finish line was finally in sight for y/n after what felt like an eternity. Her attention was immediately drawn to a red Ferrari just a few metres away, so she drove aggressively. 

She did it! A miracle for the Williams Racing Team this year! Look at how fast she goes! Y/n L/n wins the Singapore Grand Prix!

Her race was over and she had won. After climbing out, the team and audience greeted her with hugs and screams. After a while, she finally got them off and began searching for her lover. That's what you thought, at least. He was sitting there, laughing, surrounded by girls. In a matter of seconds, her happiness turned into anger. She pulled the cameraman who was following her and pointed to the man who was still unaware of her presence. As soon as the cameraman realised what the assignment was, he went over to them to film them. Their shocked faces were broadcast to the world on television. Y/n was finally noticed by her so-called lover, who rushed over to her quickly. He made an attempt to kiss her tenderly, but she turned and walked away. As she left, she threw the necklace he gave her two years ago to him. Fortunately, her boss had sent security to get them out.

Wearing the cap and drinking water, Y/n sat in the cool down room. Due to the fact that she knew there were cameras everywhere, she tried not to express her emotions. Angry, hurt, and tired, all she wanted to do was grab the trophy and get back to the hotel. And possibly cry yourself to sleep. Soon, she heard footsteps and Charles walked in. He had a pitiful expression, which she detested. She doesn't desire sympathy. She was sickened by his stubbornness and stuck-up attitude. And as far as she knew, he hated her too.

“I heard what happened-” He started, a tone so soft she never expected him to have. 

“If you’re here to make fun of me, do your worst. I’m too tired to care”

There was silence in the room which she was surprised with. Charles would usually gloat and mock every time he saw her fail. The silence was so deafening that she was relieved when the announcer had called out the winner to receive the trophy.

After that, the ceremony ended in a blur. The audience's faces were filled with pity as Y/n tried to smile. In humiliation and embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. It was her first victory, but at what cost? As a newcomer, she wasn't exactly familiar with everyone here. The only person celebrating with her is her boyfriend, since her family is a long way away in her country. But now he's gone. In spite of so many people hugging and celebrating her success, she felt so alone. In fact, she did not even bother to spray the other contestants with the bottle. Once it was over, she returned to her hotel. 

Having just finished showering, Y/n wrapped herself in the hotel robe. When she turned on the TV, she saw the Formula 1 channel. There was a picture of her cheating boyfriend with his side chick on the screen. Everyone had seen them by now, and her phone was full of messages from friends, family, and the news asking what had happened. She tossed the phone and fell on the bed. She heard a knock on her door a few minutes later. Standing up and dragging her feet to open the door, she lets out a sigh. 

She expected to see a person standing, but instead a stalk of blue flowers welcomed her. As well as the smell of food. Deep down, she had hoped it would be her ex. But instead it was Charles, standing with a sheepish smile on his face. She was beyond confused but Charles noticed it.

“Um, these are Geltian Flowers. They represent victory.” He stuttered out while giving her the flowers. Y/n could help but snicker at his actions. “I never thought you’d be an expert on flowers.”

Charles seems to recover himself as he hears what she said. He put down the food on the table and turned around, smirking. “Oh you have no idea how talented I am” Y/n laughed and followed him when she shut the door. The duo sat down at the table and Charles took out the food. She noticed it was her favourite food. The Monegasque man was picking up his food with great joy when she looked over at him. She started to see him in a new light, a new perspective. And she liked it. 

A few hours into dinner, and both of them were a laughing mess. She started to learn more about him and she realised that maybe he wasn't that bad after all. Sure, he can be full of himself and confident. But she was happy. He made her happy. Something that her ex struggled to do. She broke out of her trance when his watch beeped.  “It’s late, I should go, and you need sleep.”

“I’m not sure if I can sleep after what happened…” Y/n trailed off as she locked eyes with him. Both of them were staring at each other and she swore she saw his eyes glanced at her lips. Slowly, she felt herself lean in and he did the same. His lips met hers. Her body felt as though it was a teenager again. Her stomach was churning with butterflies and her heart was racing. But something in Y/n’s heart made you pull away. She could see disappointment flash in his eyes as they separated. “Why?” He whispered. 

“I feel bad. I don't want to use you for my pleasure.” She responded, looking away. His palm was on her cheek, pulling her face to look at him. “Mon amour, you had your first victory! You served to be treated like a princess, wait no, a queen! Use me however you want,” That was all she needed to crash her lips into his. Before she knew it, both of them were in bed, naked. 

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