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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months

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Sweet Little Sister

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Request: Could you do one where you're Steve's little sister and you go to Eddie to get a tattoo? But it's really a ruse because you have a crush on him and are trying to work up the courage to tell him. Then, you know...😉

18+ only

“Harrington? What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, confusion written all over his face to find you at the door to his trailer.

You pushed your hair back, gazing up at the metalhead that you’d been crushing on for two years. You’d noticed him at the beginning of your junior year, his first time repeating senior year. Fuck, he was so beautiful. Standing there in just a pair of sleep shorts, blank ink standing out harshly against his pale chest, that mess of dusky waves falling over his bare shoulders, was almost too much for you to handle. It took everything in you not to turn and run, but no, you had to play this cool. You’d come up with a plan and you were going to see this through. This was no time to chicken out if you ever wanted a shot with him.

Your brother, Steve, knew him because they had some weird shared friendship with a freshman, Dustin Henderson. The two had become friends over the past year and having him around only intensified your fixation on the Hellfire Club’s dungeon master. You’d never been brave enough to say anything though, sticking to casual conversation about his DnD club, his band, school, etc. He’d even sold you some weed once and you had intended on making a move but you’d bailed at the last minute.

“I actually came to ask you a favor,” you answered softly, willing your heart to slow down.

“Oh yeah? What kind of favor is that, princess?” he mused with a smile, his elbow propped against the doorframe as he leaned into you. “Does Harrington’s sweet little sister need more weed?”

“No, not that,” you muttered quickly. “I uhh…well, I’ve heard that you did all your own tattoos?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms, eyes narrowing, lips pressed together, as he considered you, clearly wondering where this was going.

“I actually want a tattoo and I was wondering if you’d do it.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and then he started laughing, “Harrington’s infamous little sister wants me to tattoo her? Now, that shit is funny. And what, pray tell, does big brother think about this?”

“Steve doesn’t know,” you insisted, straightening your spine, trying to appear far more brave than you felt. “He doesn’t get a say. It’s my body and I’m eighteen. I can do what I want.”

Eddie’s lips pursed in amusement, “Kitty’s got claws. Surprising. Okay then. Come on in to my palace, princess and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“O…okay…” you stammered as he stepped back, sweeping his arm out. You stepped inside his trailer and he gestured to the couch, the two of you sitting next to each other.

“Alright, darling, what are you thinking of getting? Do you have a picture or something?”

“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled, reaching in your back pocket and handing him a folded up piece of notebook paper. “I actually drew out my idea. It’s fairly simple actually.”

Eddie opened it up, turning his head as he looked at the drawing. It was two butterflies, just basic outlines, flying off into the sky. He glanced up at you, nodding.

“I can totally do this. Can I ask why this?”

You felt the flush creep into your face, “You’ll probably think it’s stupid. It’s supposed to represent me and Steve, umm, getting away from our parents? You know, flying away and finally being free? I mean, it hasn’t happened yet but I am planning on getting a job once this school year is over and we’ve talked about renting a place together then. Getting the hell out of that house is all I want.”

Eddie chuckled softly, “That’s not stupid, sweetheart. I think that’s pretty cool actually. You two willing to give up all that money? Must be worse than Harrington even admits.”

You swallowed hard, “Yeah, well…”

Sensing your discomfort, he changed the subject, “Okay, where were you thinking?”

Okay, here came the part that had you the most nervous, the part where you set out the bait and hoped he took it. You inhaled deeply before pulling your shirt over your head. Eddie’s eyes bulged with shock as you took his hand, placing it over your heart.

“I was thinking right here,” you whispered. “What do you think?”

“I…uh…I…” Eddie stammered nervously, tongue running over his bottom lip as he sat, frozen, his hand on your chest. “I…yeah, I mean…I can do it there. It’s uh…kind of where I did one of mine.”

“This one?” you inquired, tilting your head, one hand still covering his, the other rising to his chest, fingertip tracing over the demon head, your confidence bolstered by the way he shivered under your touch.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallowed.

“I like it,” you told him. “Do you think mine would be better there or…” Releasing his hand, you hooked the loops of your jeans in your fingers, sliding them down your legs. Taking his hand once again, you placed it on your stomach, just above lacy pink panties you’d worn just for this. “Here?”

“Fuck…” Eddie muttered, closing his eyes. “I…uh…it’s up to you really. I…Jesus Christ…”

“Eddie?” you said softly, your other hand coming under his chin. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’re standing here in your bra and underwear and I’m trying really hard to be respectful. I mean, you’re Harrington’s sister.” His eyes opened and he moaned. “But fuck, I mean, look at you.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling, pleased at his reaction, “What if I don’t want you to be respectful? What if I want you to look?” You took both his hands, sliding them along your stomach and over your breasts, holding them there. “To touch?”

“Holy shit…uh…I…what…” Eddie looked like a deer in headlights, frozen, staring up at you.

“Eddie, I want you,” you told him softly. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day of my junior year. Do you remember? You passed me a spray paint can and said thanks sweetheart, flashing me a smile. Principal Higgins was hot on your heels because he’d found your artwork in his office.”

“Oh damn,” Eddie chuckled. “That was some of my finest work. A massive dick covering his wall. I even painted over his college degree. Well, shit, you saved my ass that day.” He rose from the couch, his nerves suddenly gone, large hands covering your hips, the metal of his rings cool against your flesh. “I guess I owe you, huh?”

“You really do,” you breathed, eyes closing as he tilted his head down, lips a breath away from yours. Finally, you were going to get everything you’d only fantasized about.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?” he whispered softly, lips brushing over your cheek. “Once we do this, there’s no taking it back.”

“I don’t want to take it back.”

Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours, heat spreading through every fiber of your being, settling in your center. Dear god, help you, those full lips were even more delicious than you could have imagined. His tongue slid past your lips, licking every inch of your mouth and your knees buckled, your fingers grasping at his hair for purchase and you knew nobody could help you now. You were completely lost in everything that was him. The pads of his fingers pressing into your skin, velvety tongue exploring your throat, luscious lips devouring yours, fluffy strands of wavy hair between your fingers, hard chest and warm skin pressed against yours.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groaned, dropping to his knees in front of you. “I’ve imagined what you look like without your clothes, princess, but you are even more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

His nose ran over your thigh and you inhaled sharply, head dropping back. He turned you, running his hand over your asscheek as he grunted. You shrieked when you felt his teeth biting into a chunk of your flesh. The sharp sting was followed by soft kisses and then his hands were guiding you to face him again.

“Eddie…” you gasped, his breath hot against your already burning center as he nuzzled himself against your panties.

“Can I?” he asked, those warm eyes questioning as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. All you could do was nod. Slowly, so achingly slowly, he dragged your panties down your legs. You lifted one ankle and then the other so he could fully remove them. "Fucking hell..."

His nose ran along your folds and as it bumped over your clit, you whimpered, reaching out, grabbing his shoulders to hold yourself up. Eddie's hand gripped your calf, lifting your leg and bringing it over his shoulder, opening you to him. Those lips tortured you, biting and sucking the skin along your inner thigh and then the other, leaving marks you knew would show tomorrow. It gave you a thrill of pleasure thinking about Eddie's handiwork concealed under your clothes where only you knew about it.

"Please..." you pleaded, losing all sense of control, needing him like your lungs needed oxygen, like your veins needed blood rushing through them.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

Flattening his tongue, he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and you shuddered, a guttural moan falling from your lips, nails digging into his flesh as your legs threatened to give out. Jesus, this man was talented. His tongue was making love to your clit, circling and flicking and rolling in ways you hadn't even known were possible.

"Eddie, that's so good. Oh my god," you panted, chest heaving, knowing it was going to take you no time to reach your peak but fuck, you never wanted it to end.

"Mmm, you taste so good, sweetheart. I could die a happy man buried between these thighs," he hummed against you.

Just when you thought nothing could feel better than this, his lips latched around your clit and two fingers pressed into you, sending you to an entirely new level of pleasure.

"Oh...fuck!" you cried, teetering, falling, plunging into an abyss you would never crawl out of. "I can't...oh my god...Eddie...I..."

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

Eddie's fingers curled within you, his mouth leaving your center and making it's way up your body. His thumb replaced his tongue, circling over your clit. Your eyes closed, helpless whimpers rising out of you. With his other hand, he gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your eyes for me, beautiful," he commanded. "I want to watch you cum for me." Your eyes fluttered open, a struggle against the coil winding tightly within you. "That's a good girl. Cum all over my fingers."

"Eddie..." you keened, back arching, his hand the only thing supporting your body as the most powerful orgasm you'd ever experienced in your life imploded through your body. It was like being burst apart from the inside, like shooting stars rocketing through the sky, like a tornado blowing everything apart. It was like nothing you'd ever felt.

"That's my girl," he praised with a grin, fingers slipping from inside you, leaving you feeling empty. "Fuck, you look beautiful when you cum. I could watch that over and over again."

You whimpered at his words, the very thought of doing this, having this with him for more than one night was almost too much to bear, too much to hope for. You arms came around his neck, your lips pressed to his once again, desperate for more, desperate for as much as you could get of him.

"Someone not satisfied yet?" he sang, pulling back with a grin, tongue running over his teeth. "We can't have that." His hands gripped your ass and hefted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, lips moving over yours as he carried you into his bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed, quickly covering your body with his own. One of his hands slid behind your back, unhooking your bra and pulling the straps down over your arms.

"Fuck, you're so damn beautiful. You're like...perfect..." he commented, eyes raking over every inch of you, causing your body to flush with pleasure.

Then his lips were on your chest, covering every inch, teeth and tongue raking along your nipples, threatening to send you over the edge again. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you, needing more, needing to feel all of him.

"Fuck me," you pleaded.

Eddie's head popped up from your chest, eyes glinting devilishly. Kissing his way back up your body, he placed his hands on either side of your head, eyes burning into yours, dark waves brushing your skin.

"You want my cock, princess?" he inquired, teasing. "Want me to fill that pretty little pussy?" You nodded, panting beneath him at just the thought. "Did you fantasize about this? Huh, beautiful? Did you lay in your bed, in that big house, your fingers slipping into your pussy, imagining it was me?"

"Yes," you breathed, biting your lip. "Yes...all the fucking time. Please. I want you, Eddie. I need you."

"Need me? I like the sound of that." He rose from the bed, removing his shorts and boxers. You almost fucking salivated at the sight of him naked in front of you, something you'd imagined but you'd never gotten it right. He was so damn perfect. Grabbing a condom from the dresser, he ripped it open with his teeth, sliding it over his length.

Eddie crawled back over the top of you, lips dropping next to your ear, "Can I tell you a secret? I've jacked myself off to the thought of you under me a thousand time."

And then he was thrusting into you and it was perfection. It was angels singing on fluffy white clouds. It was rainbows glittering across a blue sky. It was sweet, cold ice cream on a hot summer day. It was a crackling fire and a cozy blanket after you came in from the cold. It was every fucking thing that was perfect and good in this world.

"Oh fuck yes..." you cried, wrapping your legs around him, heels digging into his ass in an attempt to pull him even deeper into you.

Eddie grunted, rutting inside of you, bottoming out as he rose up, one hand on the headboard. His eyes focused on the spot where he was entering your body, watching himself slip inside your warmth each time.

"Oh sweetheart...you feel so goddamn good..." he groaned, his hips rolling slowly, relishing every single thrust. "So fucking good, princess."

Your body jolted, tiny electric shocks dancing over your skin, your nerves endings on fire as flames of pleasure raced through you. Eddie's hands slid along your legs, gripping your calves and lifting them up, pushing them until they were back by your ears, causing his cock to reach a whole new depth, a depth you hadn't known existed.

"Fuck!" you screamed, eyes rolling back in your head.

"Yes. Oh shit, baby, I am so close. Are you close, princess?"

You nodded frantically, words lost to you, teeth digging into your lip so hard you could taste blood. Your body was a piano wire, pulled so tight you thought you would snap. Your legs tensed, ankles bent, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as your release burst from you, screaming Eddie's name, fingers clutching at him, grasping, nails scraping along flesh.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie roared, head bent back, body stilling as he plunged into you once more, his own orgasm taking over. Your legs shook like jello as he trembled above you and then he fell, collapsing against you. "Jesus...shit...fuck..." he muttered, peppering your face with kisses, his forehead pressed against yours. "Your brother is going to be so pissed off when he finds out."

"I...I'm not gonna tell him..." you assured him, shaking your head, legs falling to the mattress, no strength left.

"Well, it will be kind of hard to keep from him forever," Eddie said with a smile. "I mean, how long can we keep hiding?"

"Keep hiding?" you asked, bewildered, list filled brain struggling to keep up with that he was saying. "Do you mean...you want to keep doing this?"

"Hell yeah," he laughed. "Don't you?"

"I mean...yeah...I do. But if we're just sneaking around to have sex, we can keep it a secret. You don't have to tell anyone."

"Oh sweetheart, I definitely want to keep having sex. There's so many damn things I want to do with you. But, I was thinking more than that. How would you feel about me taking you to a movie?"

"Like a date? You want to date me?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, the sound low and husky, sending shivers racing over your skin. "I mean, you said you liked me, right? I thought that meant like, you liked me, liked me."

"No, I do!" you insisted. "I just didn't think you would want..."

"Oh pretty girl, I want. I definitely want." Those lips began moving again, over your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. "You're not the only one who had a crush. I want all of you. I want everything with you."

You sighed softly as those lips began making their way south again, your body ready for him, pulsing, throbbing. Thank god you'd finally found the courage to make a move.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #smut #fluff #smut and fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #request #smut requests

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gi4hao · 2 months

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☆ dino x gn!reader — domestic fluff!

☆ from repairing a sink to love confessions on the kitchen floor

9pm is right around the corner, and you know for a fact that your boyfriend is far from being done with repairing the leak under your kitchen sink. but of course he won’t accept defeat, which is why you resorted to having dinner on the floor, sat next to him to keep him company.

“you really should go lie down on the couch” chan tells you from beneath the sink, his voice muffled and punctuated by the clinks of his tools. “this isn’t good for your back.”

he’s not wrong, this position is definitely not the comfiest even though you managed to rest against a piece of furniture. but the view isn’t so bad here, you think to yourself, contently watching his arms flex as he twists and tightens metal pieces here and there.

“but if i leave who’s going to feed you those baby tomatoes?” you ask, looking at the half-eaten bowl in front of you.

putting his tools down, he emerges from under the sink with a contented sigh, stretching his limbs as he sits upright. “you’re such a simp” he chuckles, yet still gladly opens his mouth for you to throw yet another tomato inside.

with an exaggerated scoff, you put a hand over your heart in mock offense: “excuse me? says the biggest simp ever?”

the thing is, you don’t even mind being called a simp; you’re lucid enough to know that it’s only the truth. similarly, chan doesn’t mind it either, but it’s just so much more entertaining to deny and act like it offends him.

“if there’s a simp in this room it’s definitely you. and allow me to tell you why…” you tell him as he returns to the small confined space below your countertop.

you don’t even have to make an effort to gather your thoughts, countless examples just flow naturally into your brain: “first of all, you always carry me on your back when we’re walking back home from a party. you kiss me goodbye every morning even when i’m still asleep. you have a picture of me in your wallet, i’m your phone and ipad wallpaper. also, you keep a secret box on your side of the closet where you put all the receipts from our dates…”

a few seconds of silence follow your words.

when you lean to your side to finally catch a glimpse of your quiet boyfriend, it turns out he’s looking right back at you, a surprised expression painted on his face: “i didn’t know you knew about the box.”

suddenly, he gets the funny sensation that you’re definitely going to win this round.

“i know many things” you affirm, a satisfied smile on your lips as you keep going: “i know that you always keep one of my doodles in your phone case. i know that you bought duplicates of my skincare products to keep in your car as an emergency kit. and i also may or may not have heard you talk to seungkwan about me…”

this time, it’s a loud bang that comes to punctuate your sentence. but before you can even start to worry, chan yells a reassuring “i’m okay!” before getting out of there once again, “just dropped my tool, that’s all. but now let’s circle back to what you just said…”

with a chuckle, you notice a slight embarrassment spreading on his face, his cheeks turning a familiar shade of pink.

your relationship has never been a secret, so it wasn’t a surprise to know that he likely spoke about you to the other members. however, you hadn’t truly considered the nature of those conversations until a few months ago, when you had sort of eavesdropped on a discussion.

“don’t be embarrassed” you reassure him, a playful spark in your eyes: “it was nice to hear you describe us as a “perfect match” and feeling like “a married couple already, but in the best possible way”.

at this point, his surrender is palpable. “okay, you win. maybe i am a simp,” he concedes, a mixture of defeat and self-consciousness coloring his voice. his shoulders sag slightly, but his gaze is still full of affection. “i can’t deny it anymore. just like i can’t deny that I’m not a handyman. i actually have no idea if I’m fixing this thing or just making it worse.”

“i think it’s time to leave the plumbing to the experts,” you tease, taking the screwdriver out of his hands, “let’s bail on this floor and go cuddle on the couch; i’ll order some proper food.”

with just those words, he flashes you a bright smile, one that you know so well you could sketch it from memory. as he rises to his feet, he looks at you earnestly: “i meant what i said to seungkwan, you know,” he confesses, his voice softer than usual.

you take a brief moment to let his words and his sincerity sink in: “i know, baby,” you reply, your own voice matching his softness as you grab his hand to get up. “and that’s exactly how i feel too.”

his smile grows even bigger, relieved to see that you not only understand the depth of his love for you, but reflect it back to him as well. it’s all he’s ever hoped for, really — to find someone he could trust implicitly, someone he could pour all his love into, knowing it would be returned with the same intensity.

“we really are made for each other,” he states, giving you a proud nod as he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist.

“yeah, look at us. in love, both clueless about fixing that sink. perfect match.”

with a heartfelt laugh, chan gently rests his hand on your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss; the kind that lingers for a few more seconds than what you expected. just enough time for the both of you to think about how lucky you are to have found each other in this lifetime.

requests are open!

#can’t believe it’s my first time writing for dino i’m so ashamed #but it’s finally here!!!!!#dinonaras rejoice!!!!#seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #dino x reader #dino fluff #dino imagines #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff

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falaihullo · 8 days

Text

Your beauty never scared me - Charles leclerc x reader

Warnings- none except for bad grammar

Charles has been around many models but none of them compared to y/n.

Y/n and charles had been best friends, so when he got into f1, she was happy for him. going to races until it became hard on her, Deep down he understood but he was hurt nonetheless. His head telling him, "She's supposed to support me every race, she's my best friend " leaving a bitter feeling in him.

After that conversation Charles gave up on asking her to come to races and started to avoid her.

And the truth of the matter is I never let you go

Y/nofficial

Liked by LandoNorris, DanielRicciardo, Carlossainz55 and 800,760 others

One of the two pieces I’ve been working on. Second piece’s inspiration left so might not ever get it.

User1: I need to be talented like you

LandoNorris: absolutely beautiful

Y/nofficial: Thank you Lan❤️

User2: YN wym inspiration left???

-User3: that’s what I’m saying

-user4: her and Charles haven’t been seen together in a while…

-user5: maybe they been busy(I’m crying)

Danielricciardo: stunning ❤️

Y/nofficial: thank you Danny❤️

Carlossainz55: Miss you but love seeing more of your art.

Y/nofficial: pick one sir☝️

Carlossainz55: just one race won’t hurt, maybe will bring back your inspiration.

Y/nofficial: soon 🙄

User6: y/n back in the paddock soonn

User7: more y/n Charles content

User8: girl is delusional (me too)

-There was no text or anything from Charles, it’s my fault for not being able to manage my time well but when I’m with him, it’s just easy to forget time even exist.

Y/nofficial: couldn’t leave you guys hanging while it was almost done. My inspiration changed so I changed the painting a bit. One for my person collection now.

User1: I’m not crying, I’m not crying

User2: WYM CHANGED

User3: did her aesthetics change dramatically?

-user4:yeah…

Carlossainz55: Amazing❤️

-liked by Y/nofficial

LandoNorris: You amaze me❤️

Liked by Y/nofficial

User5: maybe I’m delulu but Y/n hasn’t responded to other drivers

-user6: don’t make me cry (already am)

User7: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HOW THAT WAS THEIR HUG WHEN HE WON HIS FIRST GP

-user8:WAIT

-user9: she was working on painting their hug before he ditched…im crying so hard

The knock on the door interrupts me staring at whatever show was on. Opening the door, I move to side letting him in.

“For you” he says while holding out peonies, taking them from him I walk into the kitchen to set them up.

“I’m sorry for how I acted.” He starts carefully watching as I grab a glass vase.

“Yeah you’ve said you’re sorry but I want to know why instead of talking…you ignored me completely.” I calmly tell him, walking past him with the vase I start shuffling the flowers around to avoid looking at him.

“I missed you”

“You texted me everyday” I reply finally leaving the flowers alone, looking at him.

“I missed having you there”

“I’m still confused” I confessed finally just walking away from him back to where I had been sitting.

“I know, I’m sorry” he pauses sitting down next to me“I just…just have feelings for you so I was overthinking if you actually were working on painting or on a date.”

“Charles you should’ve said something”

“What do you mean”

“The painting I did was of your first F1 win”

“Yeah”

“The picture people took of our hug…” trailing off hoping he catches on soon

“Charles oh my god” I sigh looking at his confused puppy dog eyes, “ I have feelings for an idiot” smiling as he connects the dots. Putting his hand under my chin, he presses his lips to mine.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the past year” he says pulling away.

“Could’ve done it sooner” I reply.

Liked by Carlossainz55, y/nofficial and 6,300,899 others

Charles_leclerc: Her beauty never ever scared me

Y/nofficial: My love❤️

Carlossainz55: Finally

-danielricciardo: finally

-LewisHamilton44: finally

-charles_leclerc: shut up

Y/nofficial: You will never walk alone, you can always reach me

Charles_Leclerc: my love why that picture

-y/nofficial: I do what I want

Carlossainz55: finally

-danielricciardo: finally

-lewishamilton44: finally

-landoNorris: finally

-Charles_leclerc: shut up please

A/n: wrote this on my phone but will edit on my pc when I’m home from work

#f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #best friends to lovers #fala ihullo writes

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acewithapaintbrush · 1 year

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"My dad has the hots for your dad!"

Amity can only stare as Hunter slams his hands down on the table she is working at. He glares at her with narrow eyes and a mouth pressed firmly into a thin line. The perfect picture of determination and confidence.

"What. Did you just say?"

He immediately deflates at her pointed and icy tone. His hands leave her table and fidget with his overalls and hair instead while he squirms from side to side, eyes averted and cheeks blushing.

"I-uhm. I read that in one of Mama Camila's books. It- well, I mean, it means-"

Amity cuts him off. "I know what it means. Didn't Camila forbid you from reading them?"

Them being the small paperbacks with the half naked humans on the front. Usually a woman in distress with a very well built male, rescuing her from certain doom with wet hair and big abs. The first time Camila had caught Hunter reading one of them she'd almost burst a blood vessel and ripped it right out of his hands.

"Nonononono," she had chanted and hugged a perplexed Hunter to her chest, carding a hand through his hair. "Those books are way too spicy for an innocent, cute boy like you!"

Hunter huffs and puffs. "I'm an adult. She can't tell me what to read." At Amity's raised eyebrow he mutters "And she didn't find the one hidden under my mattress."

He shakes his head and takes her shoulders to shake her a little. She allows it, 'cause she can see how agitated he is. "But that's not the point! Darius has… he likes your dad. As in like-like! And we gotta figure out how we feel about that."

Amity thinks about Darius. The dashing rebel, who had been pulling the strings of an uprising in the shadows from the start. A headstrong abomination user. He would definitely be a big step up from Odalia, that's for sure.

She imagines Darius as her father's new partner and discovers that she is more than okay with that.

Amity is not naive. She knows her father needs a headstrong partner at his side, someone who is not afraid to take the reins in a relationship. Not like Odalia, who's taken that to mean that she should micromanage every facet of his life and turn him into someone he is not, but someone who reminds her father to eat and to leave work alone every once in a while.

"I approve." Amity says and seeing Hunter's desolate expression narrows her eyes. "You got a problem with my dad?"

"What?" Hunter lets her shoulders go as if they have burned him. "No, of course not! He's super cool! I just… Arrrrrg!" He rapidly runs his hands through his hair. "I just don't know if I can handle a second parental figure!"

"Uhhh."

He starts walking up and down in front of her, Waffles flying after him with happy little trills. "Things with Darius are good right now. He told me to call him Dad and it's… It's yeah, you know? But it's also a bit awkward sometimes, you know? The only father figure I ever had before… Well. And we are still trying to find our rhythm, you know? How am I supposed to deal with another parent right now?"

"Hunter!" Amity has to shout to get him to stop. She can't believe she is having this conversation right now. "Hunter. You do know that you have like, four parental adults in your life. Don't you?"

He blinks at her and his blank face tells her everything she needs to know. She wants to face-palm so bad right now. "What?"

Amity starts counting on her hand. "You call Camila Mama Camila."

"Wha- But that's just-", he splutters. Amity talks right over him.

"Eda calls you her Fledgling at least once a week and she and Raine are kinda a packaged deal. Grandma and Grandpa Clawthorne call you son so often, I don't even know if they know your real name. Every time Lilith fusses over your scars she mutters 'my poor boy' under her breath. And let's not forget Willow's parents who took one look at you and had the adoption papers ready." Amity looks at her hands, which have barely been enough to count on. "Oh look at that. Not four but eight, actually."

Hunter looks gobsmacked and not a little teary eyed. Amity pats his shoulders, just a little relieved that he has apparently forgotten about their parents budding romance over this new revelation. She'd rather not get involved in that for as long as possible.

"Face it, Hunter. You are pretty much public son number one at this point."

🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦

There is no reason for this except that I had the image of hunter saying "my dad has the hots for your dad" and me running with it

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house fanfiction #toh hunter #toh amity #the owl house hunter #the owl house amity #the owl house darius #the owl house alador #darius x alador #darius and hunter #aladarius

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slasherscream · 3 months

Text

Wash Day

pairing: jordan li x fem black!reader

"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.

Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."

You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."

"Brat." You laugh.

How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.

"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)

"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.

Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.

"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.

"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.

"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.

"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.

"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.

You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.

"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"

"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"

"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.

"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.

"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.

"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"

"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.

"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.

"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.

"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."

The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.

"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.

Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.

"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"

"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"

Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"

"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."

Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"

"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.

"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.

"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.

"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.

"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.

"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.

"My hair grew!"

"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.

"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."

"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.

"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.

"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.

You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.

"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.

You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"

"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.

She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.

"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.

"Who says it will take an hour?"

"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.

You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."

"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.

"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.

Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."

You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.

Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.

"What's so funny?"

"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.

"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.

"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."

He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.

"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.

"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."

Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.

"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.

"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.

"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.

A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.

"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.

"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"

"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.

You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.

("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"

"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."

So that had decided that.)

"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"

"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.

They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.

"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.

You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"

"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.

"The back of my head? The head on my body?"

"Should I start over?"

"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"

"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."

"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."

"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"

"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.

"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.

"I said they were good!" You protest.

"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.

You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.

"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.

You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.

He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.

"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.

"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.

"Speak for yourself."

"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."

"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"

"Pussy?"

"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"

"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.

"No."

"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.

"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.

"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.

Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.

"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.

"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"

"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.

"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."

Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.

A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

#jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #jordan li #black!reader #black reader #IVE WORKED ON THIS ONE TOO LONG FUCK IT WE BALL #last few jordan li readers i've written have not had a reader who is a goofball #and if someone acted like this around me (hot brooding and scowling)#i suffer from jester syndrome. i would need to make them laugh

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 4 months

Text

Have we as a society lost our sense of acceptable public behavior?

Picture it: me, a swanky bistro, and an elegant patio adorned by the warm glow of string lights. I'm having a nice dinner—just me and my current favorite menu—until a couple is seated near me. It didn't take me long to hear that they were celebrating a six month anniversary and—given their gradually escalating volume—it was a night out at my favorite restaurant that was not going to fix their obvious relationship problems. In the short time it took the fresh rosemary rolls and whipped butter to arrive at their table, their loud talking had become peaks of yelling quelled only briefly by an unsatisfactorily hushed "quit talking so loud" or an ironic "you're embarrassing me."

Do you hate them yet? Because I definitely did. Except unlike you, I can take care of this; after all, knowledge of my methods is becoming more widespread. All I have to do is wait the thirty seconds it will inevitably take for the volume to boil over yet again.

"I can't take you anywhere!"

There she is again. Time to work my magic—

"Same shit again! I can't fucking take you anywhere! Everywhere we go: "miss, could you quiet down", and "sir, could you tell your date to stop yelling.""

"I'm not the one screaming f-bombs in public places! You need to learn some manners!"

*Whoosh.*

"Babe, I just can't have a conversation with you if you always yell." Already he's speaking at a much quieter volume.

"I just never feel like you're listening to me."—and she's also followed suit. Maybe that was all I needed to do, now I got my peace and quiet... but I'm not one to stop once I've started, and I suppose I'd rather not disappoint you either—after all, this isn't very interesting yet, is it. She continues: "I told you to dress nice and all you can manage is a t-shirt and shorts."

"I love you babe, but you can't tell me that you showing that much skin in a place like this is appropriate either."

No one sees it, but a slight grin crosses my face. I wave my hand and...

*Whoosh.* A light breeze passes through and their outfits shift.

"I'm dressed showing skin?! You're not even wearing a shirt."

"Babe, you're basically just wearing a sports bra and shorts."

"I look good. You don't work out enough to pull off not wearing a shirt in public."

*Whoosh.* A light breeze again. He's sporting some nice light muscle: square pecs, a nice six-pack, and some toned arms.

"Babe, I know I'm nowhere near my bulking goals but I know I look good enough to pull off being shirtless. Look, if you're gonna be like this, maybe we reschedule and have this dinner when you're not on your period."

...

...Look. What I did here may have been inappropriate... but would you expect anything less from me. I don't claim to be ethical, and I'm pretty sure you are well-aware of my biases by now... I'm not proud of what I did... I'm not... Okay maybe I am.

The ebb and flow of the conversation took a radical tone when one masculine voice was met for the first time by another. "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a girl."

"I guess that's true. Why would I even say that?"

"Because you're trying to avoid the subject again. Between you're time at the gym and your time at work, I never see you."

"I can't help it. At least I have a job."

*Whoosh.*

"Being an influencer is a job. I just wanna know how you can spend so much time working out when your job is being a personal trainer."

"My body is my sales pitch. I've build so much muscle now my co-workers are telling me I could enter a physique competition. Maybe if you worked out more, you'd actually get followers, and make money."

*Whoosh.*

"That's why I wanted to come here with you. Ever since I started working out with you, I have been gaining followers just as fast as I've been gaining muscle. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you: I have 1 million followers."

"Babe, that's great news. I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, and there's more. The videos that gained the most traction online were the ones I shot with you. So I wanna go in a different direction with my page from now on."

"Wait, you've built it up by yourself. Why would you change it?"

"I wanna make it a couples page. Health, fitness, and gay pride."

"Most people dating for three years usually get proposals involving a ring."

"Do you wanna do this with me?"

"Yes, of course!"

A couple in my favorite bistro rise and embrace beside their patio table and share a passionate kiss. They seem happy, although I sit there and wonder if they'd be interested in a third for the night.

Have we as a society lost our sense of acceptable public behavior?

No. Not in this case. It could absolutely be much worse.

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daydreamingyuta · 6 months

Text

NCT as Husbands Series: Mark Lee

summary: fluff, drabble, husband!mark wc: 823 nct as husbands masterlist a/n: ...if I don't get to fall in love with a guy who's just like mark!

I just know that Mark would be the best! husband!!

He’s so romantic and just such a gentleman!! Like even after being with you for so long he takes the time to listen to you and understand you. which is definitely his way of loving you!

You would have to remind him of how great of a husband he is. because showing him you appreciate him will make him melt. But also because he’s so infatuated with you and sometimes feels like he isn’t good enough for you 🥺 so of course you have to remind him of how amazing he is!

Also you're literally his muse! like he finds so much inspiration from you. The amount of love songs and sweet poems he's written for you 🥺🥺

Also doesn’t shut up about how much he’s in love with you. Like makes sure the whole world knows. like he literally cannot stop himself from talking about you but it's just because he loves you so much and can't help himself from bringing you into every conversation.

He's just such a sweet and genuine soul and you would be the luckiest girl in the world to have him as your husband!

It's two in the morning when you wake up from a deep sleep. You think that it's time to get up until you see the time and lay your head back on the pillow. It's not until your hand reaches out for Mark, that you notice he's not in bed with you. You two had both fallen asleep together, so you know that he must have woken up earlier and couldn't go back to sleep. This was a typical occurrence, and often all he needs to fall back asleep is to cuddle with you as you gently scratch your nails up and down his back to soothe him. So, you hop out of bed and throw on a sweater so you can go find him in hopes of coaxing him back to bed. You're about four steps from the living room, when you hear muffled sniffles. Your heart immediately drops knowing that Mark was crying. You make your way over to him on the couch and place your hand on his shoulder which gives him a little shock as he wasn't expecting you. "Mark, what's wrong?" You ask and then notice that he was holding the album that had all your wedding pictures in his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I just couldn't sleep and our wedding anniversary is in a few weeks and I don't know, I just wanted to look at you in your wedding dress again." He wipes his tears away before he leans his head on your shoulder. You try to comfort him by rubbing your hand up and down the length of his arm. "Aw baby, it's ok you didn't wake me up but why is this making you cry?" "I don't know. It's just- before I met you I really never thought that I could have ever seen myself getting married. I used to be so confused and uncertain about the future but then I met you and... it was like everything all of sudden made sense. and then on our wedding day, when I saw you walking down the aisle in your dress, I just knew. I like just knew that I'm right where I'm supposed to be. and that all my steps, mistakes, and decisions led me to you and how thankful I am that everything led me to you y/n." "Markkk" You say, now starting to tear up along with him. He pulls you in a hug, not trying to hide his tears any longer. "I don't even know what to say but I love you so so so much." You two stay like that together for a while, just wanting to enjoy each other's presence during the sweet moment. However, once you feel your eyelids start to grow heavy, you know Mark must be getting tired as well. "Let's go back to bed, ok?" Mark yawns as he nods, showing just how sleepy he is. "Do you mind doing the back thing with your nails so I can go to sleep?" "Of course." You say, kissing him on his temple. You both head back to bed, Mark in front of you, but then something prompts you to look back. You see the photo album and the mess of tissues on the floor, but when you look closer, you see a slight smudge on the protective cover of a photo of you. You wipe it gently away and you immediately know the feel of it. It was chapstick, meaning Mark must have kissed your picture. Your heart completely melts at the thought as you set the photo album down and head to bed, knowing that you need to give him extra cuddles tonight for being so sweet and cute.

#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #fluff #k-pop #drabble #imagine #nct dream #nct scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #established relationship

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cupcraft · 3 months

Text

Based on my own experiences with many emotionally abusive PI's and also being groomed by one, I wanted to make a list of things to look out for. I am speaking from my own experiences, but I do think it's important. I hope this helps you, for any fellow people in stem, in academia, in research, or in university. Some of the examples I use are ones I have either experienced personally, I know people who have experienced similar, or ones I thought of based on my experience.

Professors should communicate with you over email primarily, or school/work approved channels. It can be a red flag if they use your personal number to contact you and especially if they show anger or feel threatened you try to keep the conversations over safe channels (like your school email).

Professors should not be contacting you about personal things, asking you to be their emotional support system, asking you personal questions, love bombing you, talking to you "like a friend", etc. It is important your mentor keeps a professional boundary between you and them when you are their direct employee or student. I say this because I realize some people may say "Ever since I've graduated I am close and good friends with my old PI/professor", but what I am talking about is when you are their student and the professional boundaries are blurred and crossed. For example, a professor texting you "Hello can we change our meeting to 2PM?" or "How is your data collection going?" or "Good job at the conference. I am proud of you!" are examples of likely professional statements. Examples that are not professional and are inappropriate can be "I'm at a bonfire at my friends house, you should come by next time!" and "Do you like the picture UNIVERSITY just took of me?" and something like "How are you doing tonight? I'm have a beer and a good dinner, going to be a blast."

it is never appropriate for them to yell at you or belittle you. It is never appropriate for them to degrade or embarrass you. If you make a mistake it is your mentor's responsibility to communicate that you made a mistake and be clear about their expectations of you going forward. It is also appropriate for your professor to give you constructive criticism, to give you expectations and deadlines, correct you when you are wrong about something, and express mild or professional level of disappointment when you do something irresponsible (for example, working with a chemical unsafely around another coworker, if you say something unprofessional or inappropriate that warrants correction, if you do not meet a deadline for something time sensitive like a federal grant application, etc.) It is not appropriate for them to be disappointed or guilt tripping about human errors and mistakes. You should not fear being corrected by your mentor, you should not be afraid to admit mistakes, you should not feel like they have "good days" and "bad days" when it comes to these things, you should not be held accountable for things out of your control (ie the experiment fails and needs to be redone even though you made no mistakes and your technique was fine). You should never be yelled at. You should not be given critique with no solutions (ie your professor saying "You don't work hard enough" and then giving you no reasons or constructive reasons why, ie your professor saying "Your emails annoy me" with no reasons or constructive solutions to improving your communication). Professors should also not hold you accountable for things that are their fault (ie your mentor yells at you for not submitting something on time that they never told you was due or that they wanted within in a specific time). You also should be mindful that professor's like anyone else in your life should have appropriate levels of reactions to things, even more so with a professional boundary. For example, if you miss a meeting them screaming at you and insulting you and acting like this is the ultimate betrayal is not an appropriate reaction to that mistake.

Your mentor should not joke inappropriately with you. They should not tell you jokes that obscure professional lines or are concealed belittlement. Examples: "If you don't pass your test I'll whip you!", [sexual/romantic/intimate jokes of any kind]. "I was confused by your email, must be all the beer I've been drinking!".

Your professor should not be talking about other students, coworkers, and even other professors behind their back to you. Example, "UNDERGRADUATE STUDENT is so dramatic when she makes mistakes don't you think?", "OTHER PROFESSOR doesn't deserve to get grants, I can't believe you're taking his class", "YOUR COWORKER has been going through a lot these past few months + [proceeds to tell you personal & private information about them]"

The hardest part about school/research/academia should bet he work. It can be difficult and burnout is common especially when deadlines out of your control comes up and understandable (given that you are not being overworked). What shouldn't be difficult is the mentor you have. You should not be burnt out, depressed, or exhausted because of how your mentor treats you. You should not fear going to work. You should not have to lie/people please/perform to avoid a "bad day" from your mentor. You should not be made to cry, or mentally break down weekly or even daily or even ever by your mentor.

It can be a red flag if your professor insults you to your face but to colleagues/other professors/other professionals they sing your praises and over-compliment you.

Your professor should not ask you to do things that are unsafe or illegal. They should not ask you to do things that are OSHA violations, against federal lab safety guidelines (ie via the state DOT, EPA, EHRS, etc). They should not ask you to transport things in your car that could be unsafe, especially over state lines.

Maybe stem specific, but do not work in a lab that does not follow HIPAA guidelines, that does not follow the IRB, that does not follow the iACUC. For your own safety career wise + personally, this is not a safe situation to be in.

Mentors should not ask you things that are personal or private about you without you stating it first/giving the okay. Examples: asking about family, asking about health status and medications, asking about disabilities/mental health diagnoses, asking about sex and romantic life, asking about drinking and or drug use, asking intimate details about your outside friends and family, etc. It is not to say you cannot talk about these things, but they should not ask you and boundaries and consent is important here.

Red flag could be how your professor treats other students, even if you feel like they are "treating you well."

it could be a red flag if your professor overly rewards you or gives you intimate and expensive gifts. This is very much context dependent. Here's some examples from my groomer that I have catalogued as appropriate and not appropriate: When I was close to graduating he gifted me a hardcover book of a mathematical theorem we were studying, which I saw as appropriate. What i saw as inappropriate, was him giving me chocolates/cookies + intimate notes/cards for my birthday.

It is not necessarily unprofessional to have lunch with your professor or even other meals but again this can be context dependent (+ within your own boundaries). Potentially appropraite: "Hello. I need to reschedule our meeting for Noon? Can we meet over lunch?". Likely inappropriate (example from my own groomer): over text says something like "Rolls the dice...lunch? We can then walk around PARK NEAR YOUR HOUSE together."

Red flags can be that a professor starts to blur professional lines after you leave their lab or graduate, especially as these boundaries were pushed throughout the relationship.

Professors should be open to constructive criticism as a mentor and take accountability healthily and non defensively.

Professors should not be texting or calling you "off hours". There are some very specific situations this may be appropriate (Ie you are a graduate student and your professor who also does benchwork in the lab calls you with a lab related emergency regarding your samples (ie the freezer broke) or regarding safety if you are on the emergency contact list). They should not be calling you for personal matters/chatting you up like you are a friend/dating.

It is never appropriate to be asked to do romantic or sexual favors from a professor. It is also inappropriate for them to blackmail you

#tw grooming #tw abuse #psa #ask to tag #can rb #can add on #can send me asks about #theres more i wanted to add but i hit character limit ?

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arafilez · 1 month

Text

੭୧ ⼂ LIES YOU BUILT ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ kwh x reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤangst, no comfort, bsf to strangers ㅤ warnings crying, woonhak is a little toxic ㅤ﹢ㅤ1k wc

Kim Woonhak,

It’s stupid how you still have a mark in my life, the smallest importance with the biggest meaning. Your footprints over my soul never washed away, instead, they stay, stubborn and scratched, like rock carvings. To put it simply I hate you. That is pretty straightforward, isn’t it? I am like that, I have always been like that. Oh, wait you know that already. You used to find me simple, you loved that. Said we completed each other. Now, I cry in my bed thinking about all the lies you fed me about being best friends forever.

Oh, the lies you mastered so well!

I regret every one of those days I had called you up just so I could update you on my life. Every single secret, every laugh, and every tear I had told you of and every bit of our shared stories. I used to be interesting to you, so when did I become so boring that you had to find newer, more popular and cooler friends? What happened to our late-night chats, the ones till three where we both had to hide from our parents with excuses? Where are the stories now? Did you forget them as easily as you threw away our friendship? Did you tell your new friends my stories just so you could get a good laugh out of them? A good laugh out of the class’s lame bitch’s stories- yeah I believe you can do that. If anyone told me a year ago that Kim Woonhak is doing this I would have laughed at their faces. Now, I am the one who scoffs and tells those to the few classmates who feel sympathy for me.

Pathetic! I am pathetic!

There is still no note, no explanation, not a single sentence you said about this while I hold on to the thread loosely binding the last pieces of our friendship. Every time I asked you what was wrong you had one word, “Nothing.” Where was I wrong? I think I was wrong to put my trust in you. Tell me why you left our friendship as if it was not even worth the dirt under your shoe? Tell me why am I still hung up on our last conversation even if it was just you taking advantage of me and wanting my notes? Tell me, did I become lame after you found friends who are more popular than me? Tell me, was I lame the way I behaved? Or was it the way I became loud when I got excited or the way I laughed? Did that make you leave and go to your new friends who have the “cool” aura? How could you take everything I love and crush it so easily? Are your fingers that strong Woonhak?

What happened to our years of friendship Woonhak? Why does this hurt more than any break-up ever did? Why does every time now a simple, sub-important friendship breaks or an argument happens with my friends do I hurriedly apologise multiple times even if I was not in the wrong? Why does it always me feel maybe I am the rotten apple among my friends? Why does your face drop in my mind every time I think I am not enough? Why I am still hung up on you when I have so many newer friends who actually appreciate me? Why do I still picture myself in the mirror arguing with you and putting you in your place with my words and my confidence? Confidence I have only when I am alone? Why do I fantasize about a time you even feel a little fucking sorry for doing all this?

I have so many questions for you, questions I never got to ask and questions that formed later. What did I do for you to break this friendship? Where was I wrong? Why did you start ignoring me that Tuesday when we talked on Monday? Why did you make sure your whole new friend circle hate me? Why did you make fun of me with them? How could you do that? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Was it that worthless? Was I wasting that much of your time?

Do you think I am being dramatic? Then explain this!

I have so many friends, but every time a minor crack appears, my insecurities build up. Insecurities that weren’t there till you crafted them. Insecurities that weren’t there till you made fun of me in front of me only. Insecurities that weren’t there before you decided to blatantly ignore me one day after our years of friendship. Insecurities that weren’t there until you decided the term best friend is not for me anymore. I would say we both drew blood, and we both got hurt, but were those cuts ever equal?

This is all very straightforward, isn’t it? That’s the second time I am asking you that. Because damn hell, it is. It is my rawest and truest emotions and I don’t want to twist my words to let you know this, which you never will. The worst part of the whole thing is that you will never read this, I will never send this and this will not get you a scratch but it is jabbing my heart multiple times. Twisting the knife you crafted especially for me and pushing it in repeatedly. Why would you do this all to me? Can we talk? Is there something there you never told me and let it build inside you? Or am I just simply horrible? I wish I could let it go, I have tried so many times but I can’t. I wish I could forgive you but what should I forgive you and your cocky, small-minded friends for? Nothing! It is terrible how you come into my mind whenever the smallest incident occurs and I think of telling you, and then it hits me again.

You are still everything to me while I am nothing to you!

From Y/n

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤ is this self-indulgent? yes, a lot! i will be back with bonedo fluff tho TT ㅤ𓏧ㅤ library ㅤ bnd shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @slytherinshua ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

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ultralightpoe · 11 months

Text

Hits Different - Tangerine

Authors Note : Heya! I am so glad I finally got all the songs filled and am so ready for the event!

MIDNIGHTS EVENT HERE

Word Count: 3433

Warnings: none I think

Enjoy!

I washed my hands of us at the club

You made a mess of me

I pictured you with other girls in love

Then threw up on the street

Like waiting for a bus that never shows

You just start walkin' on

They say that if it's right, you know

Each bar plays our song

Nothing has ever felt so wrong

Nothing really registered properly at the moment, the only thing you knew was your palms were digging into the grass below you as your best friend cursed behind you, holding your hair back as you puked in the shitty college town park you had stumbled into.

If this had been a normal outing the roles would have reversed and it would have been you holding her own hair back with a sober attitude she wouldn’t be able to recognize, too wasted to know that you were fuming, but for once in your terribly long friendship it had been you that took far too many shots. This time it had been you that had to be dragged away from some random guy with a wedding ring tan.

Tan…..oh Tan.

Just at the memory of the nickname you feel the need to vomit again, tears stinging your eyes as your best friend giggles behind you, obviously not concerned for the mental breakdown you were currently having.

“Do you think he has a new girlfriend?” You slur out, knees wobbly as she helps you up, leaning down to snatch the weapons off your feet so you can walk across the grass with her. She leads you to a public hose, or at least she hopes it’s public as she turns it on.

“Definitely babe.”

“I don’t get it! This never happens to me!” By this you mean being left behind.

It was no secret amongst your friend group that you were a flight risk when it came to relationships, always leaving before you got attached but just late enough that your significant other had already said the three words. You had never said the three words back….ever…..well until him.

“Just forget him babe,” She sighs out, grabbing your hands gently. “You keep waiting for him to call, and it’s been three weeks. He’s not calling back.”

“But I told him I loved him.” You hiccup, flinching as the cold hits your hands.

She doesn’t respond and in your drunken stupor you can’t help but feel like a massive burden, so you shake your head with tears and whine out “I’ll stop talking about him, I swear.”

“It hurts right now, I know that. But soon enough you are gonna wash your hands clean of the whole thing.” She smiles, and you think about that for a moment before nodding and scrubbing your own hands under the water.

From tonight on you won’t get Tangerine the satisfaction.

You are washing yourself clean of him entirely.

But little did you know the entire time you were washing your hands you were humming yours and tans song, the whole reason you began to have the mental breakdown at the bar in the first place. Your best friend doesn’t point it out, she owes you that much.

How many times had you wiped her mascara and bought her ice cream after being dumped? This was an easy act to return.

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

You were proud to say that you weren’t the one that brought him up during the weekly sunday brunch three days later, only to be immediately shamed by the way you head snapped at attention when your friend said his name.

“Any news?”

Your best friend shakes her head from beside you, pouring more bottomless mimosas for you as you try to muster up an answer, really just anything to explain what had happened there but the truth was you had no clue yourself.

“No, and honestly I have been running through all our last conversations to figure out what went wrong, was I too clingy? Did I scare him off?” You explain, watching all the girls lean forward in their seats. “And it’s so weird because I said I love you and he said it back. I don’t know-”

“I think you just panicked because of our teasing.” You best friend lies, batting her eyelashes at you.

“Yeah! Girl I don’t think you really loved him, you were probably just in overdrive to prove us wrong. You are so lucky he left when he did.”

“He probably has a wife.”

“With kids.”

“That live in a nice suburban home-” You rush away from the table, sick of all the images they were giving you. They were obviously looking for reasons for you to feel better but none of it was helping because you knew you loved him.

He had been your first l word.

And it had been wasted.

I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost

Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw

Freedom felt like summer then on the coast

Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

And I never don't cry (no, I never don't cry) at the bar

Yeah, my sadness is contagious (my sadness is contagious)

I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car

I stopped receiving invitations

A year ago you had been covered in a sweet scented sun balm, topless at the beach and tanning under the nice heat of the day as whatever lover you had at the time ran to get you both something to drink. You were holding your sunglasses in one hand and a book in the other, facedown on the poolside chair when two feet emerged in your vision. Two feet that you had not recognized.

You had picked your head up slowly, blinking to clear the sunspots in your vision as the stranger came into view, brown hair tousled and gold chain glinting in the light. There was a pinkish tint to his shoulders and chest, and he smirks as you trace your eyes over his figure.

“Can I help you?” You keep your voice sultry, eyelashes batting up at him as a slow smile spreads across his face.

“I was hoping you’d be so lovely and share some of that sunblock with me,” His accent is thick as he squats down to be at the same level as you, eyes filled with something close to adoration that has your heart spiraling. “As you can see love, I’m burnin away here.”

“I do apologize for that, the sun can be quite the enemy…” You smile, reaching down to grab it, moving to hand it to him. His eyebrows shoot up and he feigns a look of shock for a moment before one of fake hurt.

“You can’t expect me to do it, lovey. You see I can’t reach my own fucking back…”

“How dare I!” You gasp, playing along and trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, how fucking dare ya.” His toothy grin pulls a matching smile from you and he turns slowly to let you rub the balm onto his back, and you cast nervous glances around for the date that had brought you to the resort.

“Don’t worry about him right now, yeah love? Your Kenny doll won’t mind us having some fun.” If you knew his secrets you’d have known that Tangerine had handled the man in the restroom, scaring him off so he could make a move. But you would never be allowed to see any of that.

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

“What was that fucks name again?” Tan laughed, reaching to pinch your ass as you pass him to grab the popcorn for your movie night.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Mmmhmm, my lil’ fucking heartbreaker.” He grunts out, pressing his body against yours and kissing at your neck drawing a giggle from you.

“We’re never gonna watch the movie if you can’t control yourself, and you were the one that begged for this movie night rather than a night-”

“I know I know.” He sighs, allowing himself one more kiss before moving to the living room to set up. It takes you a couple more minutes to grab the tray of snacks, and when you finally shuffle out to the living room you find a huge fort made out of pillows and blankets with your boyfriend nowhere in sight.

“Tan?” You call, setting the tray down and leaning to check in the fort for him only to find it empty. The lights of the tv are your only source of light so you don’t see the figure behind you until it’s too late and he snatches you by the waist and spins you around in the air.

A laugh pulls from you as he yells out a battle cry and throws you both into the fort where all the pillows were laid out.

After a couple minutes of laughter you catch your breath and play with his hair as he leans over your outstretched body, his own pressed against yours and his fingers trailing love touches up your side as he stares at you.

“I love you, you know that?” You blurt, watching a smile crack across his face.

“I love you too.”

You ended up never watching the movie, choosing to stay in the fort and admire each others bodies in a way you had never done before, panting and moaning under the faint blue light the tv sent through the sheets of the fort.

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

Except you woke up alone in the fort, covered in blankets that you did not remember grabbing, and the tv had been turned off.

He must have been late for work and you simply overslept, it was a rational answer you gave yourself because normally Tan would wake you up before he left. Or maybe there had been an emergency with his baby brother.

There were many reasons he could be gone so you simply sent him a good morning text and moved on with your day, telling yourself you would take the fort down later.

But then the goodmorning text turned into a question about dinner that had gone unanswered, and late at night you sat at the dining table with pizza shoved in your face as you anxiously messaged him asking if he was okay.

You imagined all the men that you had used for trips and money laughing at you right now, a heavy sense of irony and then you shook your head and reminded yourself that it’s only been a day, this wasn’t a ghosting situation…..

Except it had been, and by the second week you had sent him so many messages that you were sure he finally blocked you when the messages started ready ‘not delivered’.

An embarrassed sob had clawed up your throat at that, furiously wiping your eyes and chugging the glass of wine you had poured before moving to pick up the fort.

If anyone had been confused by the sobbing girl in the laundry room of the apartments at 2 am they never said it and you were slightly thankful for that as you washed the sheets from the fort.

It was time to move on, you were better than this.

You ghosted people, not the other way around.

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

You hadn’t realized that getting dumped was this hard to get over though. Sure you had cheered your friends up from it but you had never felt it yourself, this was a different world to you. You cried when you threw the photos away, and you cried when you packed up anything he left in a box to donate to goodwill.

He plagued your every waking thought, the image of his eyes and the sound of his voice filling your thoughts whenever you allowed yourself to relax so you spent most your time cleaning or working to distract yourself.

A little over a year with him, and this is what it came to?

Your best friend tried convincing you to be angry which led to you puking in a clubbing dress in the middle of a park. And the girls brunch had left you just a little more miserable when the conversation had turned to the engagement party of one of your close friends, and by the time you crawled home you ended up in a ball on the carpet of the living room floor, closing your eyes for a quick nap to shut the world out for a bit.

You didn’t need him, fuck you had traveled the world before him, you could just go back to that.

I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway

Is that your key in the door?

Is it okay? Is it you?

Or have they come to take me away?

To take me away

Going back to dating after a year of a relationship had been rocky, and your first date back had led to you cheering up your date as he talked about his own ex, and by the time you packed him into an uber that night you felt a bit better about yourself. You weren’t over your ex, but so what? No one else was either?

And any anxiety you had about dating had gone out the window at that, because you had realized you had the perfect weapon in your hands.

So you cracked out your best and sexiest dresses and by week 12 of no contact with Tan you began spending your nights putting on the performance of your life.

You would sniffle, and you would bat your eyelashes as you talked about how heartbroken you were, the men would be hooked at the sad doe eyes and you would spend the meal talking about how nice and kind they were, then when the check came you would put the nail in the coffin with the tiny tears on how they were so much better than your ex.

But they weren’t, they were free meals and free wine that you enjoyed toying with. Because no one had ever pulled your heartstrings the way Tan had, and no one had been able to break your heart the way he had. You were sure you would never give anyone else the chance.

So you followed your own routine after that, when the man of the night would lead you to the sidewalk and call an uber thinking he was about to get laid, you would start crying and then crying would turn to blubbering as you talked about how amazing they were.

Nothing scared a guy off faster than clinginess, this you knew well.

They are always scared off at the blubbering mess of sobs, putting you in an uber and paying for your ride home, desperate for you to stop crying.

There had been one uber driver that had picked you up 3 times, and always laughed when you stopped crying the second the poor fool was out of sight. You shared your gum with her and she promised to mention you in a novel she was writing, you told her to make you iconic.

And then you would be dropped off, where you would sit, slightly tipsy, in your very lonely apartment.

Some nights you would trick yourself into thinking you heard Tans key in the door…. You never did and the pitch of excitement you got always ended in a pained feeling so you began to listen to headphones rather than silence.

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different (it hits different)

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (it hits different)

It hits different 'cause it's you

Your date tonight had chosen a really good restaurant tonight, and not only that he had actually been pretty funny. So when you left the restaurant stuffed and laughing you nearly forgot your performance, but he seemed like he didn’t expect anything as he kissed your cheek to call you a ride, telling him to call you when you crawled in before shutting the door softly and you felt a small smile spread across your face.

“That one seemed sweet.” Niama comments, watching you through the rearview mirror of the uber. You smile even more and pull out the dessert you ordered.

“I got this for ya.” You hand it to her and she laughs.

“And if it hadn’t been me?”

“I would have gone home and eaten it myself. It was a win win idea.”

When she drops you off that night she gives you her number and tells you that she demands an amazing interview for her book, and as you walk up the steps to your apartment you are left with a giddy feeling from a good night.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice it at first. Too busy laughing to yourself to notice the familiar smell of mint on the doorstep, or the fact that your door was unlocked.

But the second you enter it’s clear something is off.

The lights are on, and you know for a fact that you had turned them off before you left. The kitchen was cleaner then you left it and the smell of mint filled your lungs.

Everything was right and yet it was so so wrong.

You find yourself frozen in the doorway, one hand clenching the doorknob as the other tightens into a fist at the center of your jacket, doing your best to wake yourself up from whatever dream this was.

“Y/n?” He calls, the same familiar accent that had talked you to sleep nearly every night for a year. And then he is there, limping harshly as he comes around the corner.

His entire face is covered in blisters and bruises, a cast on his left arm.

He watches you in the doorway, and you blink back at him struggling to find something to say….anything, a single word would be fine.

“H…..Hey lovey.”

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

'Cause it's you

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (yeah)

Hits different 'cause it's you

His normal cockiness was gone, and you can see the fear in his eyes in an instant, as he looks you up and down.

“You……look stunning.”

“You look like hell.”

He nods, taking his unbroken hand up to wipe his tears before he clears his throat and stands straighter. “I think it’s time to explain.”

You nod, moving to shut the door and you stand there just a second more before flinging across the room where he stood, careful of his injuries when you pull him into a bone crushing hug.

He groans in pain and you pull yourself back quickly but his unbroken hand is fisted in the back of your coat to keep you close as he catches his breath.

“Sorry love,” He grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “I got shot.”

“IthoughtIscaredyouawayand- I’m sorry…. You got shot?” A small smile spreads across his face as he watches you.

“You think you scared me away by sayin’ I love ya?” He chuckles, his hand sliding up your side until it’s woven in your hair. “Cause I’m worried about what I’m about to tell ya will scare you off.”

Don't forget to request a character and a song from the album Sour by Olivia Rodrigo for the next event!

And check out the midnights masterlist at the top of this post for more taylor swift fun!

#tangerine bullet train smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine angst #tangerine smut #tangerine x y/n #tangerine #lemon and tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train smut #bullet train #taylor swift #taylor swift midnights #midnights album #aaron taylor johnson

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fatedbutblinking · 5 days

Text

meeting the parents. jason grace x eros daughter

jason and eros' only half-blood daughter are in love

everyone knew that about them but they refused to admit that it was true to everyone, each other and themselves

then they 'accidentally' sleep with each other one night

despite trying to be the perfect and detached leader, jason can't help but confess first

not only is she the most beautiful girl that he has ever seen, but she pushes him to be the best version of himself. she's caring but biting. she's excited him since the day he met her. and she is really good in bed so

and she thinks his arms are sexy

then comes parent day, one day a year where all the gods are forced to spend the full day on earth with their children

as the only daughter of eros and with jason being one of zeus' only children, zeus and eros decide to take them out for a nice meal

zeus and eros aren't keen on each other, because eros keeps trying to shoot arrows at him and human ladies to piss off zeus' wife hera

soo it's a bit awkward

'i can't believe you're in love with a boy who looks like he should be on a cereal box.'

jason almost spits out his water.

'dad,' she hisses.

'it's like dating peter pan on steroids.'

'nice,' jason jokes.

'don't push it, eros,' she hisses again.

'they're barely dating. of course my son is going to be drawn to a barbie doll.'

'don't talk about her like that,' jason says sternly.

'it's not bad to admit that. she's shiny. it's a good break for you, son.'

jason shakes his head. 'you're such a --'

eros ignores what zeus says and continues to her. 'i know you're in love with him. i can feel how much you do, trust me, and i know he loves you more -- obviously -- but you should still keep your options open.'

zeus puffs his chest. 'of course you're encouraging disloyalty, eros.'

'you're not exactly a saint, zeusy.'

'and whose fault is that?'

'the arrows don't force you to fall in love. they only make you do what you otherwise would if logic wasn't in the picture.'

'i'm already tired of being here.'

'then you shouldn't have made the plan.'

'i had to. you would have taken them to a brothel otherwise.'

'fuck off.'

and so zeus and eros argue

jason and her look at each other. she grasps his hand.

'i'm sorry.'

'no, i'm sorry. your hair is very shiny, but i love you for a lot more than that.'

'really now?' she teases.

'yeah. i like your face, your body, your lips...'

'very funny, grace.'

'i'm more than my looks as well, you know.'

'i don't know. i think he's right about you looking like peter pan. the buffer, sexier, more stupid version.'

'ha-ha-ha.'

'i am sorry, jase. you'd think my dad being the god of love and affection would mean he'd be nice.'

'don't be sorry. they're gods. they're always going to think they're right.'

'but they're our fathers.'

'even more reason for them to think they're right.'

'i love you.'

'i love you more. your dad's not wrong about that part.'

suddenly they notice it is really quiet around them. both zeus and eros are staring at them, having listened to part of their conversation. they seem to be a little bit shocked, but regain their composure quickly. eros ends up smirking, folding his arms on his chest and leaning back as he stares at them. zeus watches them with curiosity, eating an olive.

'what?' he asks. 'what is it?'

'have you two picked what you want to eat?' zeus asks, motioning to the menu.

'i thought you guys wanted to leave,' she says.

'it just happens that you're obsessed with each other,' cupid explains. 'i should at least try to find out why.'

zeus nods. that's the first time that they agree with each other. both of their heads dart towards the menu as they bicker over what food they're going to get.

jason smiles softly and holds her hand. she is a bit in shock now.

'guess we're hard to deny,' he says.

'we? i'm the shiny one,' she jokes, squeezing his hand back.

#jason grace #percyjacksonxreader #percy jackson headcanon #jason grace x reader #jason grace x eros daughter #jason x reader #greek god #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x oc #hoo

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bellarkeselection · 5 months

Text

Awkwardness Aside I Care About You

Request from @loxleys-blog I’m thinking about either being joey’s sister or a relative one of the other friends and growing up and falling for chandler and chandler not realising me until I moved down the hall/in with monica.

Entering Monica’s apartment I flopped down on the long couch throwing my hair across it. I had been tired from work all day trying to come up with a new book idea. I had dropped out of college to become an author while my sisters Phoebe and Ursula decided to find work with only a high school degree. The apartment door opened and closed. “Did Monica band you from the couch so now you’re letting nobody else use it?”

“No Chandler. It’s just my job…it’s been stressful these past few weeks.” Covering my face with my hands I huffed under my breath.

Chandler rounds the couch sitting down when I rolled over making room for him. “Stressful how?”

“I have been wracking my brain about what my next book should be but I’ve got nothing. It’s like I am stuck in this place where I have no inspiration even though I love writing.” I sat upright against the back of the couch with my hands in my lap.

He sent me a smile draping his arm over the couch. “Well then I could help you with getting inspiration.”

“Oh really how so?” I chuckled, curious to see what he had in mind.

Chandler got to his feet standing in front of me climbing up on the table in the center of the apartment. “Picture these two guys watching tv until ... .a dinosaur breaks into the apartment. He tears through the tv and the guys try to fight him off like ah!”

“Chandler!” I gasped when he did a high kick in the air falling off the table and knocked all the stuff off the table.

The apartment door opened and Monica gasped rushing over to him. “What is wrong with you? I just got all the magazines organized.”

“Sorry Monica. I was trying to give Y/n ideas and then fell.” He admitted getting to his feet flopping down by my side.

The door swung opened revealing Rachel and Phoebe who were both excited about something. Turning around on the couch I laid my arms across the couch tilting my head. “Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“I need to go out for drinks tonight.” Rachel huffed sitting down at the kitchen table.

Nodding my head that was that conversation. The four of us girls ended up going out of the apartment building and to the bar where they sold some not so expensive wine. Taking a long drink Phebe started up a conversation I wish she hadn't. “So I know that Rachel doesn't want to talk about her love life but do you have anyone in mind?”

“Oh I don’t think so.” I shake my head no.

Monica had finished half her drink. “You're avoiding the question why?”

“I am not!” I snapped avoiding their gazes on purpose this time.

Rachel tilted her head figuring it out before they did. “I get it now. You do like somebody you just won't fess up to it. Is it somebody we know?”

“Maybe.”

“Does he live in our building?” She pressed on.

I grabbed the bottle of wine and started to finish the rest off by myself until Phoebe took it from my hands. “Phoebe! Okay fine, yes I like somebody but it would totally ruin our friendship if he ever found out.”

“Is it Joey?’ Monica leaned forward with curiosity.

Rachel and Phoebe stared at me when I shook my head no in response. I swore that my blonde friend was about to jump over the table and tackle me in a huge hug over this. “Oh my gosh it's Chandler. It has to be Chandler!”

“Okay, okay. Yes mystery solved. But news flash is never going to happen between us.” Throwing my hands up in the air I wished it could happen but I knew in my heart we would probably never get together. He has to only see me as a friend. “So let's just forget about it.”

Rachel got an idea in her mind. “If you're so afraid then let's do it as a dare that you would never back down from.”

“If you’re daring me to do anything I'll need more wine.” I said snatching the bottle back across the table. The next morning had come where I didn't feel like getting up from Monica’s couch since I had passed out in her apartment. Phebe fell asleep in her corner chair with Rachel and Monica in their bedrooms.

The apartment door got kicked open causing me and Phebe to jump awake seeing Joey stammering around. “Y/n, how could you not tell Chandler the truth?”

“Hub, what are you talking about?” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I was confused at what he meant.

Chandler came through the door leaning over the couch where we were so close to having our noses together. “Why did you leave me a drunk message on our answering machine?”

“Um…how would you feel if I said it was a dare?” I nervously asked him, remembering that I basically had declared that I had feelings for him.

Chandler steps backwards, throwing his hands up into his hair still stunned that he didn't see that I had feelings for him before he heard the message that morning. “We swallow our feelings, even if it means we're unhappy forever. Sound good?”

“Chandler, I….I don't think I can accept that if you feel the same way.” Getting to my feet I leaned my body against the back of the couch.

He blinked nervously, chuckling. “Why wouldn't I want to be with you. I mean I've always had feelings for you.”

“You have?” I questioned him covering my mouth with my hands.

Joey and Phoebe silently watched the interaction between their friends. Neither of them was sure what would happen next. Meaning they couldn't look away. Chandler stared at me silently walking up to me and cupping my face in his hands kissing me. “Ohhh he kissed her!”

I gasped not expecting him to do something like that. I was so afraid he wouldn't feel the same but it didn't matter now. “I guess I was worried for nothing. It isn’t awkward at all that they are watching us.” I chuckled, kissing him back until we needed air to breathe.

“It doesn’t matter if they're watching us. I'm just happy I didn't just embarrass myself in front of the girl I apparently have been crushing on my whole life.” He declared before I wrapped my arms around his neck shushing his concerns with a kiss.

Rachel opened her door the same time as Monica, seeing what was happening in front of them. “What did we miss here?” Chandler and I separated sending them each a bright smile of relief.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tags @lover-of-books-and-tea @rosie-posie08

#chandler bing fluff #chandler bing forever #chandler bing imagine #chandler bing icons #chandler bing x reader #chandler bing #mathew perry #friends imagines #friends show #friends series #friends x reader #friends #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Married Woman

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flity AF + Mild Smut

Requested: So I was listening to the song Gorgeous by Taylor Swift and I was thinking maybe you could make a story based on the song where y/n was forced to marry Sneed and they are engaged but she meets Jack and they have a secret affair but eventually they're caught.

I sat in my most prettiest dress, brushing my hair and making sure to give my body a good spritz of my sweet perfume, today was to be a red-letter day in my life as I was to meet the man who would take me as his bride. I had all been arranged by my parents and I didn't even know his name. But such is the way which things like this. I was lucky to even get an engagement as many would simply be put in a dress dragged to the church and married off without much of a word. At least we were to be engaged for a few months, Once I was done my mother came to collect me and we went and waited by the door I felt uncomfortable, I felt tight, frilly and itchy I wanted nothing more than to get back into my usual dress.

Soon enough a carriage arrived,

And Out climbed a tall but slimy man with facial hair and a slicked-back cut of black hair, my thought upon looking at him was,

Well. I could do worse.

"Ahh perfect, perfect let's begin introductions." My mother said with a giddy smile, "Dr Rainsford Sneed, we proudly present our daughter Y/n Y/l/n." She smiled bringing me forward, "Y/n this is Dr Sneed you're engagement."

"Charmed," I said offering my hand, he took it and gave my hand a small kiss.

"I must say you are far more beautiful than I had been told."

"Yes, well... best be getting on," I said leading him into the parlour, my mother sat excitedly and my father drank with him, I felt like an extra to the conversation very rarely if ever contributing.

"Well, we best leave the newly's to their discussions," My mother smiled taking my father away and leaving Rainsford and me to ourselves.

For a moment we didn't speak.

"You're career?"

"Doctor Miss Y/n."

"General?"

"General and Surgery as I am required, I am shaping up to be head surgeon down the line." He said, "You work?"

"Yes, Tailor's clerk."

"Ohh, Well we can nip that in the bud."

"Excuse me?"

"No wife of mine shall work. I will keep you in the matter of good grace my dear you need not to work."

"I see." I nodded, I couldn't exactly argue with him and I'm sure many girls would adore being told they didn't have to work anymore, I just happened not to be one of them, "And My role will be?"

"Child rasing, and homemaking."

"I see, you expect children from me?"

"I do."

"Understood." I nodded, "You have interests outside the medical?"

"Nutmeg."

"In baking?"

"Business actually, the family fortune runs on the stuff, soon it shall be our livelihood."

"I thought you were going to be a head surgeon?"

"I am to have both, we shall build a fine life together." He said kissing my hand,

I didn't like it but, with a husband, who wanted children, and who would keep me stable and steady, I suppose it is best just not to argue.

"You find this agreeable Y/n?"

"I suppose I do, Rainsford." I nodded,

I sat in the garden watching the ducks on the pond using all my might not to sigh from the utter boredom. I know many women would find the mere act of sitting and listening to a man talk exciting but I just find Sneed boring, and he much found me the same. But it's not like we have a choice. I can't deny he is... somewhat handsome but I had always hoped to have a husband more than just handsome. Someone interesting, entertaining, amusing and so far Rainsford had failed in these departments.

For a moment I pondered that this would be my life,

How frighteningly dull.

"Everything Alright Y/n?"

"Fine Rainsford."

"You busy imagining?"

"Yes, I suppose so,"

"Oh? you picturing our marriage?"

"Indeed I am,"

"How sweet, you must be so excited." he smiled kissing my hand,

"...Yes, so excited." I lied.

I took myself a stroll parasol in hand to the Port Victory Royal Hospital, I wasn't thrilled about it but I had to keep up appearances, I suppose Rainsford and I would never get more affectionate or accustomed to one another without us at least putting the work in to try. I ushered myself up the steps and into the main entryway, I wasn't sure where to go and I didn't want to ask in case I would be interrupting his business so I merely waited hoping he would perhaps pass by.

"Somethin' you wanted Miss?" A voice spoke up,

I looked over towards the ward and saw a man.

He stood leaning on the wall, in a pair of rather high brown trousers, a white shirt with dirty billowing sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a washed-out blue waistcoat and green tie, his hair fluffy, dirty pushed over to one side, his hands in his pockets giving me a look.

I had to admit... I looked longer than an engaged girl should,

But I mean... Whoa... that is a gorgeous man.

But I'm getting married not buried.

I'm not married to Rainsford yet I can look, just nothing more than look.

all though I did have to roll my eyes a little, "Something that I wanted." I corrected, "No thank you, sir."

"You sure? People don't often linger in hospital."

"In the hospital." I corrected, "But no I'm waiting for someone."

"Ahh... You waiting for your husband?"

"He will be my husband."

For a moment his chocolate eyes looked me up and down with a flirtatious grin,

"Yes?"

"No..." He smirked, "No, way in bloody hell..."

"Something bothering you sir?"

"You can't be..." he muttered, "You're not Miss Y/l/n are ya?"

"Am I. Yes, I am."

He bit his lip a little looking at me, his eyes lingering far longer than they should on an engaged girl,

"And you know me how exactly?"

"I've heard a lot about you," he smirked, "I thought he was bullshitting... But, no. You really are that gorgeous,"

"Ohh Miss Y/l/n What a nice surprise my dear." Rainsford smiled as he came down the stairs,

"Good Afternoon," I smiled, as he came and kissed my hand and fixed some hair behind my ear,

"What brings you here this afternoon then?"

"I just thought I would come and visit you,"

"Aren't you a sweet little thing," he smiled,

Suddenly a cough came from my side, and the two men exchanged and conversation in glares and eyebrow movements, as if holding a whole conversation I was not privy too.

Rainsford sighed, rolled his eyes and held my hand turning me to this man, "Miss Y/n Y/l/n this is Dr Jack Dawkins, My colleague and our newest surgeon." He said, "Dr Dawkins, this is Miss Y/l/n, my fiance"

He smiled and took my hand from Rainsford's, giving my hand a polite kiss. "Pleasure to meet you Miss Y/l/n,"

"Likewise Dr Dawkins,"

"I'm sure the two of us will get to know each other over time."

"I'm sure we will." I nodded,

I sighed sitting on my the little chair outside the theatre pondering walking home,

"Miss Y/l/n?"

I perked up and saw Dr Dawkins on the stairwell, "Ohh Morning,"

"Morning, what are you doing here?"

"I came to visit Rainsford. But he's not here."

"No he's off... uhh... I actually don't know. I don't tend to ask. He was here he had surgery this morning."

"I know, I came to watch but he wouldn't let me in."

"Rules are no women in the theatre,"

"Why?"

"In case they faint from the blood I think,"

"Ridiculous."

"Oh?"

"Women see far more blood than men."

He chuckled, "You're not wrong."

"Still, rules are rules."

"Come on, You can sit with me till the gets back." He said coming down the stairs and offering his hand, I knew I shouldn't but I took it and let him lead me out to a small side door of the hospital where we each took a seat on the steps watching the clouds, "I'm suprised."

"About?"

"You too... if I may speak frankly, I think you're too good for him."

I blushed, "Thank you Dr Dawkins,"

"Jack. it's fine you're gonna be around a lot y/n."

"I suppose I will, I don't think I'm too good for him."

"You're bloody Gorgeous. good family. well refined."

"I'm also a defiant problem child of a girl."

"you're not defiant... you're independent there's a difference."

"Which is?"

"Defiant is fighting for the fight of it, because it pisses off mummy and daddy. You're independent you're smart enough to fight because you know you can,"

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome. I assume he's going to try and whip you into shape."

"He's trying to. Made me give up my job, told me to sell my trousers for more dresses."

"Dick." he said, "You happy about it?"

"God no, this thing is itchy and tight, and suprisly not supportive." I explained, "And how'd you feel if someone told you to give up the job you worked hard to even have just to sit around all day and someday raise their little crotch goblins."

"Good point." he laughed, "Strange that's all he wants,"

"He wants a wife,"

"Yeah, wives can be more useful than a pair of open legs and some hands to do dishes."

"You can try telling him that,"

"I'd have you in the theatre."

"You would?"

"Yeah, mostly to show off."

"Show off?"

"Yeah, I could show off for you" he winked, "See how fast and skilled I am, show off my quick fingers, certainly would be an...adrenalin rush for you." He smirked, "and it would give me a bit of an ego boost having a pretty lady there watching me."

"Maybe that's why, he's too nervous he'll mess up in front of me."

"I mean... he messes up a lot."

"Does he?"

"He does."

"He never tells me."

"He has a survival rate of one in nine. worse than prof."

"Ohh my god..."

"Yeah, he's shit."

"what is Prof's?"

"One in six."

"What's yours?"

"Why?"

"Curious."

"One in five."

"That...is... better, but still not great."

"It would be better but I get the shit jobs. The stuff neither of them wants to do, a little bit hard to do good work when you only do two out of ten surgeries and most of them are either little things like amputations or huge things like a bloody exploded appendix,"

"That's fair then I guess... but if your rating is better than his why aren't you in the line to be heard surgeon rather than Rainsford?"

He chuckled, "Because Prof doesn't like me, and Sneed doesn't like me, and the governor doesn't like me, and most people... don't like me."

"I like you,"

He smiled at me, "You don't think I'm a cunt?"

"No, not yet anyway. don't know you that well..."

"True, Thanks Y/n."

"You're welcome Jack,"

"I am surprised though, he bagged someone as pretty as you."

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice in it."

"No?"

"No, father arranged it."

"Ahh... now it makes sense." He nodded, "He didn't bag you, you were sold to him."

"Pretty much,"

"Humm I'd have known I'd have tried."

"You would?"

"If you were gonna be looking like this every day, and coming to visit me as much as you visit him I'd have dropped a bloody gold nugget on that table to you."

"That's very sweet Jack,"

"Y/n and Rainsford,"

"it even sounds grim,"

"Y/n Sneed."

"Ohh god don't,"

"Mrs Sneed,"

"Uhhh" I sighed, "ghastly isn't it."

"You can always keep your name?"

"no, he won't allow it."

"Looks like you're stuck then. Mrs Y/n Sneed."

"Ughhh god it sounds terrible."

"It kinda does," He laughed, "Sorry."

"It's fine..."

"You know..."

"What?"

"If I had dropped a gold nugget for you, You'd be Mrs Dawkins." he smirked, "Mrs Y/n Dawkins."

"See why does that just sound a thousand times better,"

"it does doesn't it."

I sat on my little bench waiting for Rainsford to finish his rounds so he could walk me home, we had a few things to discuss as our wedding was arranged and organized we'd be married in two days. I accepted my fate even if I had thought of jumping on a docked ship and just bolting off this rock,

"Ahh... The blushing bride-to-be."

I looked and saw Jack coming from the Ward,

We had seen each other a lot, given how much I was here, and we had... formed somewhat of a friendship, even if the flirtatiousness never really went away, but I knew I couldn't talk to him. Rainsford had demanded me not to, once he heard Jack and I had been speaking he got... Jealous. and demanded I not speak to him anymore. But still, I didn't want to be rude.

"Afternoon,"

"You excited for your wedding?"

"Ohh yes... ecstatic."

"You alright? other than the wedding nerves?"

"I'm not allowed to talk to you..."

"Right, this some sort of pre-wedding thing I don't know about? You not allowed to talk to men?"

"No, Rainsford just doesn't want me talking to you,"

"Dick," he sighed, "Well I won't bother you, I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Thank you, I'm sure I'll see you around too." I nodded,

He took my hand giving it a soft kiss, "Have a lovely wedding."

"I will try too."

He smiled and kissed my cheek, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to you know."

I blushed hard, "I know... not really sure I have much of a choice."

"Well... I'm here if you need me."

"Thank you, Jack."

He smiled and headed off elsewhere, Soon enough Rainsford arrived so he walked me home,

"Everything alright? You seem nervous?"

"Yes, just uhh just the wedding is all."

"of course, I must say I am very excited too." He smiled, "in just a few days we will be husband and wife."

"Indeed we will..."

"I look forward to it," he smiled giving my head a kiss,

"...I... do... too," I said nervously trying to hide my lies,

He bid me goodnight and I headed inside, I locked my room and just tried desperately to get my head on straight but it wasn't working well.

I sat at my vanity looking in the mirror at myself, my body clean, my hair prepped, all for tomorrow morning, my wedding dress hung by the wardrobe but I just adjusted my mirror so I didn't have to look at it. I felt so conflicted about it all,

I like Jack,

I know I do.

And frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if he liked me too...

But it could merely be playful flirting,

And Rainsford... he cares for me I suppose,

he is boring, but... Jack.

He is handsome, but ... Jack.

He is sweet, but... Jack.

I'm getting married in the morning! I should be thinking only of my betrothed, of our life together, of my wedding ceremony but... all I could think of was Jack.

Was a life with him, a day with him, a Night with him!

But who knows how long it would last?

And I'd leave a trail of disappointment behind me.

I heard a knock at my window and I was confused so I got up and went opening it to see... him.

"Jack?" I whispered,

"Hey,"

"Hey, what- what are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd pop by, can I come in?"

"Well... yes but I don't know why you're here..." I said letting him in and shutting my window,

"Just thought I'd pop in on the bride and see how she's feeling."

"I feel fine." I lied,

"You really think you can do that?" he chuckled, "It's me. How are you feeling?"

"Conflicted. Afraid. Nervous. Like I wanna just jump on a ship, change my name and never come back."

"Yeah, I thought as much,"

"You did?"

"The closer this wedding's got the worse you've been." he said, "Y/n, it's obvious you don't wanna go through with this."

"What choice have I got?" I asked, "My family have arranged it, and Rainsford cares about me, I... I could have a lovely life with him."

"Better than what you'd have with me?"

"How'd you know I-"

"Becuase I'm not blind. I'm not as dense as sneed." he smirked, "We both like each other, we know we do. So? What are we gonna do about it?"

"There's nothing to do about it, but... force these feelings away."

"No? I work with your husband, you'll see me every time you come to the hospital. We live in a tiny port town we are gonna see each other, We're not just going to be able to force away our feelings forever."

"I know..."

"So? What are we gonna do about it?"

"I don't know! okay! you happy! I have no clue what I'm going to do about this! about you! I am... getting married tomorrow! I am getting married in the morning! to some foolish little boy, my father picked out, that I never even got a say in, and now my life is a bride, a housewife, a mother, I'm gonna have to have kids, and give up my whole life for this god damn man. and I have a wedding tomorrow a big pompous overblown wedding with a dress I want to set on fire, and I am standing here genuinely contemplating whether or not I wanna jump on a ship to Africa! I am stuck! up a creek with no paddle, no bloody boat even! I have no idea what I can do to fix this... Becuase sneed will be my husband tomorrow morning, my dull, boring, husband and now you're here and I don't know how to even process that you have any sort of feeling for me let alone what I'm going to do with mine, and how we can go on seeing one another every day knowing we feel this way about each other. I mean just Look at that damn face! I'm meant to marry another man and get your dumb stupid face is all I can think bout!"

for a moment he was speechless, "Uhh... Okay." he laughed a little, "You really needed to get that out didn't you?"

"I did." I nodded resting my hands on my hips as a took a breath, I felt so much lighter having finally said all the things I wanted to say.

"I feel that way too,"

"What?"

"I can't get your bloody face, your body, your mind out of my head."

"Neither can I... I am a Married woman! or I will be! you... you infuriating bastard!"

"I know, You're engaged, you're getting married. To my colleague. Who I fucking hate with a passion. and I can't just let you go, you utterly infuriating girl. Damn you."

"Damn you right back."

"I can't let you do this..."

"What?"

"I can't let you do this, without knowing how I care for you."

"I know how you care for me Jack, I care for you ten times more but... we both know there is nothing were can do."

"That's why I'm here tonight." he said taking my hands, "Come away with me tonight."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come away with me tonight, were can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, just... come with me. Far away from your family, far from Sneed, and... be mine."

"Ohh Jack... I- I want to, more than anything,"

"Then come with me." He said stroking my cheek,

"I can't, we both know we can't." I said, "... In another life, I'd have loved you beyond measure. Been the most perfect wife you could have dreamt of. I'd have lived the happiest life ever known."

"I don't want another life." He said, "I want this one, with you."

"But it cannot be, Jack you cannot ask me to disappoint so many people, as much as I want to go with you. I must stay." I said pressing my forehead to his,

"...So that's it then. We can't be together, and I'm just supposed to stand around the hospital with you, watch you with him, without telling you I love you, I'm supposed to spend my life trying to replace you."

"I don't know what else we can do... I know he will never fill the hole that is in my heart, for it is shaped too perfectly for you."

"There is something we can do." He said his nose stroked the bridge of my own,

"What?"

"You know of this... discretions?"

"discretions?"

"Before and after your engagement he has been with other women."

"I know, such is normal for men. To visit a girl from the pub or I suppose nurses in you boys cases."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"It does, but I know it is normal."

He smiled, "if Sneed can bring a nurse into his bed? I see no reason you cannot bring me."

"You and I both know that's not how it works, men can bring others into their beds, but women cannot. That is society's rules."

"When have you ever followed society's rules."

"We cannot have an affair Jack, the scandal if ever someone found out."

"Then just tonight."

"What?"

"Just tonight, pleased y/n. Let me have tonight, and I promise I will force my feelings away. But just for tonight, let me have you."

"I... I want to, But- Jack it is my wedding in the morning."

"Consider it a wedding present."

"If Sneed found out"

"He won't,"

"If my family,"

"I will never tell another soul."

"What if Sneed discovers it tomorrow night..."

"I won't leave any marks. I promise."

"No... I mean, will be not notice I have already been, deflowered?"

"Trust me, any man gets a look at that body he's not gonna be paying attention to much else." He smirked, "So? Do you want me?"

"Yes." I gasped pulling his hair to bring him into a kiss, he happily kissed me back his hands snaked around my waist,

I sat up carefully wrapping the sheets around me as I looked across my room, my body hot and a little blushy where I had felt things never felt before, my eyes caught my dress and I felt this sudden deep guilt.

"What have I done..."

"Ummm what haven't you done?" Jack smirked sitting up to give me little kisses which immediately distracted me,

"We can't ever do this again," I said my fingers knotting in his hair,

"Do you want to do it again?" he smirked kissing my neck,

"Umm don't tempt me, Jack," I growled, "You know I do."

"Then why can't we? we just have to keep it a secret."

"I- I can't Jack." I said, "As much as Rainsfords a dick... I can't do that to him. It's not fair he trusts me, as his wife. Sometimes growing up is knowing when to give up what you want."

"You shouldn't have to give up what you want to make others happy." He said stopping the kisses, "Don't you think you deserve to be happy?"

"I wish the world worked like that. I truly do Jack. I wish this could be our life."

"So do I."

"But it can't. Tonight was..."

"Was?"

"Wonderful." I smiled, "But we can't allow it to happen again. Tonight was merely to allow our feelings an escape. Now we must go on as if they don't exist."

".... Okay, if that's what you want." he nodded, "But... I will remember this night always, no other woman will ever fill your place in my heart, and I will do my best to hide my emotions but know they will never truly leave me."

"Nor my own for you, I wish this night could last forever. I wish so much I was marrying you, but know I will always love you, and this night can never be altered, what I have given you tonight can never be taken by another man."

"I will treasure it, and this memory of you always." He smiled giving my lips a sweet kiss,

"But it was just once, it can never happen again."

"No, never again." he nodded, "I love you, so much. Have a nice wedding." he said before he got up and got dressed, "If ever you need me, if ever he is cruel to you, unkind to you, or even if you need an escape. know you are never fully trapped, you always have somewhere to go, no matter what if you need me I will take care of you." he said taking my face in his hands and giving me one last kiss,

"Thank you, Jack," I smiled

He nodded and stroked my cheek before he took his things and left in the dawn light.

I held Rainsford's hand as we left the church surrounded by family, and glee. I did feel happy rushed up in the pageantry of the day but as we left I spotted Jack across the street, leaning on a lamp post, He smiled as he saw me in my dress, playfully rubbing his neck where I just last night left a hickey, we briefly exchanged a smile before I headed home.

I sat in my bed, against the headboard, my covers close.

Well... That certainly was anti-climatic.

I'm sure most women would just be thrilled about their wedding night and I was yes, I'm sure most women would be happy with such performance.

But I had experienced such a performance the night before and well... this did not compare.

Not even slightly,

Oh dear god, what have I done?

This may be the biggest regret of my life...

I have up a gorgeous, handsome man who loves me beyond measure, for this!

"Ohh my- You were extraordinary sweetheart."

"...Thanks, yeah you uhhh you were too." I lied,

I sat in bed unable to sleep, I had been a married woman a month and the honeymoon phase really was over, I sat there listening to Rainsford snore for a while.

Finally, I pushed myself out of bed slipped on my cloak and snuck out of the house, Luckily we didn't live far from where I was going, I found my way inside and up to the little room. I know this is a bad idea but I can't stay away honestly I'm surprised I lasted this long.

I knocked and a voice came from within,

"It's open!"

So I went inside shutting the locking the door behind me, and saw Jack sat in bed.

"Y/n? What- what are you doing here?"

"I uhh I don't know."

"I think we both know why you're here..."

"I think so too, Do- do you still love me?"

"More than anything, Do you-"

"I do. But... we can't I- I'm a happily married woman."

"Happily?"

"I'm a married woman." I corrected, "I... I uhhh... I know we said, it was just once. just one night."

"yeah?"

"I change my mind," I said removing my cloak to stand there in my nightie,

"Right..." He gulped, "You really wanna do this?"

"I do..."

"Come here then sweetheart."

Immediately I bolted over and jumped into his bed with him,

"What took you so long?"

"Ohh trust me I tried. But I can't stay away from you" I smiled pulling him into a kiss,

I giggled as I stood in the hospital cupboard, I was snuggly in Jack's arms, my hands in his hair as we kissed, we made sure to keep quiet and hidden, given Rainsford was in the hospital today. But we had managed to keep our affair a secret so far, which was quite an achievement when we had seen each other almost every day for the last year and a half. And still no suspicions. I was honestly surprised no one noticed, I mean... we aren't that secretive.

"Umm why do you have to look at me like that sweetheart? you know what it does to me," he growled between kisses,

"Well, you kept me waiting all day,"

"I kept you waiting so you wouldn't get in trouble with your husband."

"Like he notices."

"Hummm come on, you know you want to" He smirked resting his hand on my thigh where my dress was already tugged up from our kisses,

"You really love making me cum don't you?"

"Of course I do, you scream so loud." he smirked, "And come on, you know how fun it is for me to lord over him with the fact I'm the only one who can make his wife cum."

"And you so do love to lord over him."

"Of course, how can I not lord over him how dirty his wife is for me, how badly she needs me, how much she begs for me, how she sneaks out her marriage bed to be with me, you know I love lording over him how much we love one another."

"True." I giggled pulling him back to a kiss,

"y/n!"

Immediately we separated but it was too late, the door was open and Rainsford had seen us.

"Y/n! were you... kissing dr Dawkins!"

I didn't feel like lying to him, he'd find out sooner or later, "Yes."

"You- You cheap whore!"

"Don't you dare call her that!" Jack jumped into my defence as we both left the cupboard all three of us arguing in the middle of the hospital for a while before he finally snapped,

"I want a divorce!" He yelled

"You've got it!" I told him

And he marched off angrily,

"Well... that's over. I'm already divorced. Joy."

"It's not all bad, you don't have to put up with him anymore."

"true."

"And if you're divorced... you are free to, remarry?"

"Jack? are you asking what I think you are?"

"I am, You wanna marry me?"

"I'd love too Jack!"

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger

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peachydarlingz · 5 months

Text

-Memories of you- Finnick Odair

headers @attxnt and @plutism

Warnings: Major angst, implied character deaths.

Pairing: Finnick odair x f! reader

We were growing old together, of course we were dying.

We found time to talk about it, the sensitive stuff; And it always brought us closer.

Back in our twenties, we might’ve avoided the topic, finding time to ignore and argue about it instead. But when you’re old, wise and your days are spent mindlessly rocking back and forth holding hands, things become simpler, easier. Those harder conversations seem to flow naturally.

“Finn, when I die, can you hold my hand until I get to the other side?”

“How do you know I won’t go first?” Theres a jest in my voice, but I know she’s serious. Her health has been declining more and more recently. I just smile and squeeze her hand. “Of course, my blossom.”

And what a privilege it was to grow old by her side. After everything we had been through together, it was everything I wanted and more.

In my old age, years after my love died, I was often asked the question, “Will you remarry?” and I would always laugh, and it would always catch them off guard. But that’s a funny question to me; I couldn’t help but laugh, because when you’ve had everything, why would you want anything else?

But I loved that question too, because every time they’d ask, I get to talk about you.

“I remember how she could notice an arthritis flare up from the shift in the air, she knew me so well. It’s so rare that you’re connected with someone. So connected, that you can breathe their air and know what they’re feeling, exactly what they’re saying...” there’s a long pause.

“Anyways, when she would notice a flare up, she was always right by my side with a heating pad and a massage. “And I catch myself remembering what once was. “Someone who once soothed the deep pain she knew she could not heal… but would do anything to calm it. Any remedy or potion, because that’s love.” and those sentiments in our old life, and that silly question reminds me of a new memory my mind threatens to forget. but I know deep down, she is the last thing I’ll ever forget. That is something I’ll make sure of.

And every time, I am met with the same response to the same stupid question, silence.

I talk to the vision of you in my head, and I’ll often make that poor nurse pull out the photo album again. But I can’t help it, you look so beautiful in our wedding photo; Or the picture of you planting sage in the garden, just for me.

“Every morning when I’d get back from my morning swim, she would always have a fresh cup of sage tea and a hazelnut muffin waiting for me. Even on the days the bakery wasn’t open, and especially the holidays, she made sure to get extra.”

“That’s very sweet Mr. Odair, now let’s take your medicine.” And I’m pulled back into limbo again.

I seem to be rotting more and more after being the last one left. After you died, it seemed that old age and disease got our friends. You’ll be happy to know that the ‘Star-crossed lovers’ from district 12 died together from old age, just like we predicted they would. Suddenly I’m laughing to myself, remembering our conversations of the pair. Both of us agreeing that if one died, the other would soon follow from heartbreak, if they didn’t grow old together.

It seems like every little memory brings me back to her, even when I don’t mean to.

But maybe that’s my feeble mind’s attempt to keep its grasp on you.

I think the only reason I lived so long after you passed is because you’d be mad at me if I didn’t. And I would never want to upset my wife, even if it’s in the afterlife.

But once Johanna faded, it was just me left. Life just seemed a lot duller after that.

You would think being in the games, the war, all the death I’ve been through would make it easier, but somehow, it’s not. Each death just seemed to take more of the life out of me, and now, I’m the last one left. So, I lay here in this cold hospital bed drifting in and out of the labyrinth that is my mind.

From what I can gather when I’m conscious, I’m not doing too great. The doctors say I’ve forgotten how to do everything except drink water and mumble a few words. They say I can’t last long like this. But to be honest, I really don’t care. I just want to see you again.

“Pictures!!”

“Yes, Mr. Odair I’m getting the photo album, I promise.” That poor nurse, I hope she knows it’s appreciated.

When the nurse sits down next to me and starts flipping through the book, I feel grounded again. I’m looking at my favorite picture of you, how could I ever forget that memory?

We were on our honeymoon, and I just remember thinking, ‘Wow, that’s my wife.’. I couldn’t help but snap a quick picture when you weren’t looking. Which, of course you didn’t like, but that’s exactly why I did it, and I’m so glad I did. I really do miss you.

I think the thing I miss the most about you is your smell. There was nothing else like it, because it was just so you. I could never replicate it even if I tried, and I did try.

It was the way she layered the complimenting scents after putting on her lotion. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. I crave for the day I get to crossover and embrace that euphoric feeling again.

I’m not scared to die; I’ve been close to death more times than I can count. But in a way, maybe I am scared. I’m scared that I won’t see you again. And maybe I shouldn’t have based my idea of the afterlife on you, but to me everything is based off you. It’s how I keep myself sane. Well, as sane as I can be.

I may not know the date, or really what I even look like in my now bedridden state, but I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and I can’t help but close my eyes and reflect on my life. My body feels heavy, I can truly say I wouldn’t trade my life for the world. The wrinkles on my face remind me of every smile and laugh I experienced and for a moment I’m ethereal.

But I guess I’ve really lost it, because I swear, I can smell the essence of you…

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50calmadeuce · 4 months

Text

Ch.7: The Talk

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

"I'm going to be the best damn fighter pilot ever," declares your now 'husband' with a conviction that lights up his eyes. A smile spreads across your face, both proud and supportive of his determination and dreams. He looked so good in his khaki Navy uniform.

"That's exactly what I expect from you," you reply, your voice laced with pride and affection. "And I'll be cheering you on every step of the way."

His green eyes meet yours, and in them, you see not just the fierce determination of a man set on conquering the skies but also the warmth and gratitude for your unwavering support.

He drew you in closer, his eyes searching yours. "You're okay with this?"

"Jake. I have school to finish. It's not like being a medical doctor, believe it or not. It's actually harder. How long will you be gone?"

"Six weeks."

"And you'll be stationed in Florida during that time?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he responded, his southern drawl adding a layer of charm to his words, paired with a grin that melted your heart. It was hard to believe that you were actually married to this man after just a week and a half. "I'll keep you updated on my next location." Leaning in, he kissed you—a kiss that was soft, filled with love and promise. As you parted from the embrace, your foreheads remained gently pressed together. "I promise, we'll have our honeymoon after everything settles down, Mrs. Seresin." His words, sincere and full of future promises.

You smiled. "Technically, it'll be Doctor Seresin, but I won't hold that against you." The light-hearted jest carried the warmth of your shared understanding and the mutual respect for each other's ambitions and titles.

As the memory gently receded, you completed preparing the hot cocoa, adding a splash of bourbon for an extra layer of warmth. Carrying two mugs into the living room, you found Jake settled on the couch. Handing him one of the cups, he accepted it with a nod.

"Thank you," he said, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug.

Settling on the couch beside him, you draped the Aztec blanket from the back of the couch over your lap, embracing the warmth and comfort it offered. After taking a sip of the cocoa, its warmth spreading through you, you turned to look at him. "Start talking, Hangman."

Jake took a deep breath, the seriousness in your request evident. The cozy setting of the living room, with its gentle lighting and the quiet ambiance, contrasted sharply with the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold. He shifted slightly, turning to face you more directly, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability.

"Alright," he began, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of emotion. "You know the missions we fly aren't exactly routine, but this last one... it was different. It was one of those moments where everything that could go wrong, did."

He paused, searching for the right words, his gaze momentarily drifting away before locking back onto yours. "We were deep in enemy territory, and we got ambushed. It was like they knew exactly where and when to hit us. Maverick and Rooster, they were in a tight spot, almost didn't make it out. And if it weren't for a split-second decision, they wouldn't have."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a testament to the danger and the razor-thin margins on which survival often hung in their line of work. He took a sip of his cocoa, perhaps seeking a momentary respite from the memories.

Understanding the constraints of his job meant he couldn't divulge everything, you appreciated the efforts he made to share as much as he could with you.

He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Let's just say I saved them at the last minute."

That familiar cockiness, a trait you knew well in your husband, surfaced, bringing a sense of normalcy and comfort to the conversation. It was these moments that reminded you of the strength and confidence that defined him.

The shift in his demeanor was palpable as his voice softened, weighed down by a sorrow that had lingered in the spaces between his words. "But I couldn't save our baby. I couldn't be here to protect you," he confessed, the vulnerability in his eyes as tears began to form, revealing the depth of his pain and regret. It was a stark reminder of the personal battles he faced, battles not against external enemies but against the circumstances that kept him from being there in your moment of need.

You gently set your cocoa down on the coffee table, carefully took his mug from his hands to place it beside yours, and then reached out to clasp his hands in yours. "Jake, I was just starting the third month," you began, holding his gaze with a tender yet steady look. "It was an accident that the horse kicked. We both know I just figured out I was pregnant."

Jake's face softened, the mention of the horse and the accident bringing back a flood of memories, each one tinged with the pain of what had been lost. His hands, strong yet gentle, squeezed yours in response, a silent acknowledgment of the shared heartache.

"I remember," he whispered, the words barely audible, yet laden with emotion. "I remember how excited we were, how much we looked forward to everything that was supposed to come next. And then…"

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, the weight of the loss momentarily overtaking him. The room seemed to shrink with the intensity of the moment, the air thick with unspoken feelings and the quiet sorrow of what could have been.

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I know I wasn't there when you needed me most. I was… I was lost, Y/N."

"I know you were, but I love my job." You adjusted yourself. "It's better now. I work with a team now, so if I do, or we do, start a family, I won't be in that predicament." His eyes locked on yours as you took a breath, gathering your thoughts and emotions. "When I was making the cocoa in the kitchen, I thought back to the day you had to leave for your six-week fighter school. I remembered how confident you were—not just in what you wanted to do, but also in my goals and how we were going to navigate it all together. How you, someone I'd known for only a week and a half, could possess such unwavering confidence, I'll never fully understand. But it was in that moment I knew I loved you for it."

Jake's expression softened, the reminiscence touching something deep within him. The memory of that day, the emotions that had swirled between them, was a vivid reminder of the foundation upon which their relationship was built. It was a foundation of mutual respect, support, and an unshakeable belief in each other's dreams and abilities.

"I remember that day," Jake said, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and affection. "I saw something in you, Y/N. A strength and determination that matched my own. You had this fire in your eyes, this passion for your work, for your dreams. It was impossible not to believe in you, in us. Hell, that's why I married you."

"I married you for the same reasons, Jake," you responded, your voice steady, laced with emotion.

"After I told you to quit your job because of the baby, I thought I lost you," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability.

"Well, not calling or talking was pretty rough, and I can't say I didn't think about divorce," you confessed, the honesty in your voice cutting through the air between you.

Jake looked at you, a depth of understanding and gratitude shining through his gaze. "But yet, you stayed," he acknowledged, his voice soft yet filled with emotion.

You nodded, affirming his words. "I did because I knew you were hurting," you responded, your voice carrying a mix of empathy and resolve. "I got to see the confident and cocky side of my husband before he left. I never got to see what happens when something breaks him," you continued, your voice laced with a mixture of reflection and concern. Jake met your gaze, a complex mix of emotions flickering in his eyes as he processed your words. "And I have this feeling, I'm the only one that has seen that side of you." The weight of this realization seemed to settle between you, a silent acknowledgment of the intimacy and trust that defined your relationship.

Jake leaned forward, closing the distance between you, until your foreheads gently touched.

"You're right," Jake whispered, his voice a soft echo of the bond that tethered your hearts. "You are the only one who's seen me like that. I've always thought showing vulnerability was a weakness, especially in my line of work. But with you, I've come to understand it's a form of strength. Being open, honest, and vulnerable with you—it doesn't make me weaker; it makes me whole."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, seeking and finding the solace he needed in their depths. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, you've always been my safe haven, a place where I can lay down the burdens I carry and just be me. Not the fighter pilot, not the officer, but just Jake. And I've never thanked you enough for that, for being my rock, my constant in a life filled with uncertainties, even when I wasn't there."

You reached out, your hand moving with a tenderness that conveyed the depth of your feelings, and gently placed it on the side of his face. Then slowly, you leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you with a sense of purpose and affection. The moment your lips met, it was as if time itself slowed down, allowing you both to fully immerse in the tenderness of the kiss.

At his family's ranch in Texas, under the expansive blue sky, you and Jake stood in front of a beautifully crafted country wedding arch adorned with wildflowers and soft, flowing fabrics that danced in the gentle breeze. The setting was picturesque, embodying the rustic elegance and warmth of the ranch that had been a significant part of Jake's life. You in your floral lace country wedding dress, and Jake in his dress whites. In front of the pastor, who wore a kind smile that reflected the joy of the occasion, you both prepared to exchange vows that would bind your lives together.

His sister, radiant in her role as your Matron of Honor, stood by your side, her presence a comforting and supportive force. Next to Jake, his brother-in-law, serving as the Best Man, wore a proud and approving look, clearly honored to play a pivotal role in this momentous day. The intimate gathering of family and close friends, all bearing witness to your union, created an atmosphere of love and celebration that seemed to envelop everyone in a shared happiness.

As you locked eyes with Jake, everything else seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, ready to embark on this new journey together.

"Jake Seresin, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, honor and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and to remain faithful to her alone, as long as you both shall live?" the pastor queried, his voice resonating with the solemnity of the moment.

With a depth of emotion and unwavering certainty, Jake responded, his gaze locked with yours, a silent promise reflected in his eyes. "I do," he affirmed, his words a testament to the strength of his commitment and love.

"Y/N, do you take Jake Seresin to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in the bond of marriage? Do you vow to love him, comfort him, honor, and cherish him, in good times and in bad, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to him for as long as you both shall live?" the pastor inquired, his voice echoing the gravity of the commitment being made.

With a heart full of love and eyes shining with the promise of a shared future, you replied firmly and with unwavering conviction, "I do."

The pastor, witnessing the sincerity and strength of your vows, smiled warmly before turning to the gathered loved ones. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

As Jake stepped forward, closing the distance between you, there was a sense of coming home. When his lips met yours, the kiss was a deep well of all the love you felt for each other, a promise made not just for today but for all the tomorrows to come.

The applause that erupted from your family and friends filled the air with a joyous cacophony, a celebration of love’s enduring power and the beginning of a new chapter in your lives. As you turned to face the world as husband and wife, hand in hand, it was with the knowledge that together, you could face whatever the future held.

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@buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

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