#one time I picked up my car after getting towed and I swear it was like getting my dog back from a pound lol

[dycefic]

Tom Saves The World

Everyone knows that it’s super-heroes who save the world. They fight the aliens, or the monsters, or the bad guys. And mostly, that’s true.

But not always.

I’m a psychic. The thing is, my range isn’t that great. I don’t have much detail more than about 36 hours out, 48 for something really big. I’d had a nebulous sort of bad feeling for about a week before this one finally hit, and it was big. Something very tough and very supernatural was going to come up out of the harbor of Nova Roma, and the death-toll was going to be high. Crazy high.

I did all I could. I told the Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency, and they put the word out to everyone on both sides of the Line. The Henchman’s Union don’t like natural disasters any more than anyone else, and they’re often quite helpful against eldritch horrors and stuff like that. Things that don’t hire henchmen and ruin the property values.

The trouble was, nobody big was around. The only really big team of heavy hitters on the West Coast were away dealing with some sort of doomsday cult - I never was clear on what that was about - and Guarde and Dog Fox were out of touch and even Mx Frantique was out of town at someone’s wedding. It was going to happen in less than two days and we couldn’t find anyone to help and I was seriously considering calling in some kind of bomb threat or something to get people away from the docks, at least.

And then, about eighteen hours out, it just… went away.

Which never, ever happens.

My powers might be short range, but they’re reliable. I don’t get stuff wrong, and I hadn’t been able to find any way to prevent what was going to happen, or even been able to identify anyone who could. But someone did. Someone had done something to stop the threat, something that happened literally while I was opening my car door. When I reached for the handle, thousands of people were going to die. By the time the door was open, there was no threat at all.

At first I thought it must have been a ranged thing. Like, whatever I’d been seeing (all those teeth, I saw them in nightmares for months after) had been distracted by something tasty on its way here and gotten off track, that it’d come up somewhere up or down the coast. My range isn’t that big, either. Anything outside about thirty miles might as well be on Mars for all I know about it. So we kept a watch out, and warned the chapters of the Union and the Agency in other cities.

But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn’t explain it, and I was really unpopular for a while. Supers do NOT like people who cry wolf. There’s enough freaky shit we have to deal with without someone panicking everyone with a dire prophecy that fizzles out.

Thank all the gods that Tunny showed up. Nobody’s really sure what Tunny actually is - sentient fish creature, some kind of really mutated human, an alien, or what. She changes her story a lot. But she’s pretty friendly, especially for a twenty-foot-long horror-movie-mermaid-thing with four arms, so when she came into harbor to pick up some supplies a guy from the Agency went out to tell her what I’d seen. I’d gotten a wharf and dock number, so she went down to check.

I don’t think anyone had ever seen Tunny scared before. Her English wasn’t good enough to really explain what she’d found hibernating down there, but it was something very old and very powerful and very dangerous, and if it’d been woken up my vision would just have been the start of the crisis.

She rounded up a bunch of whales to help her move it, once she was sure it hadn’t been agitated and wasn’t likely to rouse if moved carefully. They towed it out before dawn, not wanting to scare the civilians, and when I saw the footage from the helicopter the Union sent up, when I saw how big the swell was, how many whales were pulling, I swear I nearly crapped myself. No wonder I’d been getting hints a week in advance. Somehow we dumbass humans had built a whole fucking city almost on top of some kind of Ancient Old… THING, and eroded the sea-bottom until it was exposed, and if someone hadn’t done whatever it was we’d all have been dead long before Tunny arrived. And not just all as in ‘all of Nova Roma’, it could have taken out half of the continent... or all of it.

It took me years to find out what happened. YEARS. It turned into a kind of hobby, tracking everything that might possibly have come into contact with Wharf 38 on that particular day.  

And what I found, eventually, was a city employee named Thomas Briggs.

I’d found out early on that 38 wasn’t in good repair. Not that bad, but not great. It was old, things were getting a bit saggy in a few places, but there’d been no sign that anything was likely to fall off on the day. It had sat there for a couple of years after the crisis that never happened,, doing its job without problems then been rebuilt without any drama at all.

Entirely, completely, and totally because of Thomas Briggs.

The story, when I finally pieced it together, went like this.

There’d been some project or other to build some sort of high-budget science project over on the other side of the harbor, hanging it off’ve Pier 8, the furthest out on that side. Something about tracking sea-life or ships or something. My conversational English is near perfect, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t speak science nerd in ANY language. It’d all been approved, some university was covering most of the cost, it was all gonna be fine. And it was gonna be over on 8 because that side of the harbor is the shallow end. It’s where the sailboats go. All the big stuff that would block visual sensors and deafen the thing with engine noise was over in the thirties, in the real deep water.

They were almost ready to install the thing when a bunch of rich dudes suddenly got their panties in a bunch over having a big sciency tower thing ruining the view from their yachts, and tried to get it moved.

To, and I’m sure you guessed this, Wharf 38.

Which was completely insane. It wouldn’t be able to do its job over there, it’d be way more in the way, and (although they couldn’t have known it) the installation would definitely have woken up the Thing sleeping by the wharf and we all would have died. But rich dudes with yachts don’t care about that stuff. They’d bitched out and bribed up their friends on the city council, and those friends had done their thing, and the scientists had been left in the dark, and it’d almost gone through. They’d figured to install it right away, so that when the science guys found out it’d be too late and they’d either have to pay a lot to move it or just use it where it was.

Enter Thomas Briggs.

Mr Briggs, Tom to his friends, didn’t give a crap about the yachts or the science. He was a senior money guy for the commercial wharfs, the one who figured out things like how much money they’d take in in a quarter, and what the repair budget should be, stuff like that. He found out about this thing two days before the disaster would have happened, and sat down and did the math.

Then he sent out an email to the guys trying to push this through, and he ripped into them like they’d threatened to knife his mother. I got my hands on that email, and I didn’t understand a lot of it any more than the council guys would have. It was ALL numbers. But at the top he wrote it out in plain English. Pier 8 was new, and rated to handle the weight of the thingy. Wharf 38 was going to be scrapped in a few years, and it was NOT rated for that kind of structure. Pier 8 had plenty of room around it. Wharf 38 was already a tight fit for the big commercial ships, and adding a structure sticking out on one side would block off at least half of the wharf to those ships completely.

Bottom line, putting the thing on Wharf 38 would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars more per year than putting it on 8, AND the city would have to eat the cost if 38 collapsed under it which it could easily do, AND the city would have to pay to move it in a couple of years anyway when 38 was due to be rebuilt.

And he cc-ed every important person he had an email address for, including the mayor, the anti-corruption people, and several reporters.

He must have sent that email right when I was opening my car door.

The whole plan collapsed right there, and some people got fired. There was no news story because the whole plan got killed before the reporters even got to the right office. The installation was started on Wharf 8 a few weeks later and I never connected it to a commercial wharf on the other side of the harbor.

One email, and a man who I never could have located in time, a man who had no powers at all, a man who was just conscientiously doing his job looking after the city’s money saved the city, and the continent, and maybe even the world.

Who could have predicted that? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

I can’t deny that I went home and got drunk off my ass that night. Just thinking about how close that had been made my hands shake. One man. One honest man who’d done the math.

I put the word out, once the hangover wore off. What had happened. That Thomas Briggs was the reason we were all alive and everyone better make his life real nice from now on, because he’d done what none of us could do and nobody but the supers would ever even know it.

He’s got a lot of luck coming to him, I can tell you. We don’t forget debts like that.

And I knew that’d freak him out, because honest men don’t like it when people start doing them a lot of favors for no apparent reason, so I tracked him down at the little bar where he likes to have a quiet beer on Friday nights before he goes home. Hell, I was the one who’d gone through it all, back then. I should get to tell him.

I sat down beside him at the bar and looked at him. I saw a thin, small, balding man who looked like he worried too much and didn’t get enough sleep, with lines around his eyes. Yeah, he looked like a man who’d do the math. “Thomas Briggs?”

He blinked at me through his glasses. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t. My name’s Barkhado Omar, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I offered him my hand and he shook it, still looking confused. Which was fair, ‘cause I doubt a lot of seven foot tall Somali women came up to him in bars even when he was young. He’s got to be close to retirement now.

He frowned. “Looking for me? Why?”

I smiled at him. “Tom, let me buy you a drink and tell you about the day you saved the world.”

It’s usually us who save the city, or the world. We have all the intel, all the advantages, all the powers.

But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s someone like Tom Briggs, doing the right thing at the right time and never knowing that he changed the course of history.

Wild, huh?

--

This story is a direct result of me and my ex chatting about how different the entire Marvel Universe would have been if Jean’s first ‘resurrection’ - being found in a life pod under a wharf, IIRC - had happened at like... any other time. Earlier. Later. It would have changed SO MUCH.

And we speculated about how it could happen, how someone just puttering around in middle management might have unknowingly saved countless lives, prevented Madelyne’s corruption, the legacy virus, all of it, just by postponing that particular set of repairs a bit longer.... and I couldn’t resist writing a version of the story in which Tom does, in fact, save the world.

#short fiction #dyce's supers universe #comics inspired #sometimes something just goes right #horseshoe repair

[astonmartingf]

YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—

— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again

P5 ★ LATE NIGHT DATE DISASTER

amgf almost 3k words i think? i'm back! honestly this was a fun write. mention of lewis and his story enjoy the condom ig? iykyk, also see you for the second half of this story we're almost ending guys 🫡 special chapter tomorrow or maybe later tonight :p

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You don't try to hide the nervous feeling inside your chest, granted it was your first time out on a date with anyone for that matter. And even more so with Alonso, the last time you went on a date with him Ales wasn't in the picture, and even after then— things went downhill for your relationship.

"Lance! You know what to do right?" You call your cousin from your bedroom. He arrived two hours early after Ales' afternoon nap and looked after him while you "prepare for your date." It was unnecessary but grateful nonetheless, Lance gave you a few dating tips in the modern times.

The thought made your eyes roll, it wasn't like dating then and now had any difference, granted the only person you dated was Alonso but it wasn’t that long ago since you went out on a date right?

“You better not use Ales as an excuse to skip out on a date, especially this one because it’s with your baby daddy, co-parent partner Fernando Alonso.” You cringe inwardly hearing your cousin talking about Alonso, knowing they also race for the same team.

“Okay, first off all what the fuck are you talking about. Second, do you actually talk to him like that?” Lance enters the room with Ales in tow, dressed up in matching pajamas with a mischievous look on his face, a telling sign of Lance possibly corrupting his young mind, or you finding another excuse to ditch a date.

“Well… there’s not much of a difference, but I do speak more freely to you than to him. So I’m just saying all this as your baby cousin Lance and as Nando’s teammate Lance. Anyways, we’re helping you outside and watching you from the driveway, are you driving?” 

You walk, Lance following you closely behind to the front door, “I offered to meet there but he’s picking me up. A proper date he said.”

Lance nods to himself, “I get it… I mean thinking back of the previous dates you’ve ditched, picking you up would be a sure fire way to have you on the actual date itself. Points for Nando today, soon he’ll get closer to the pole position.” Lance winks before raising his eyebrows suggestively, making you shudder at his stupid innuendos.

“Lance! That’s your teammate for God’s sake, and I’m your older cousin, respect us at least. Pole position? Ugh, you’re such a child. The more words that come out of your mouth, the more you’re convincing me not to leave you alone with my child. You’ll be the one going out the door with Alonso after all this.”

“Hey,” Lance holds his hands up in surrender, “I was joking, I swear no more. I will shut up, look Nando is at the gate already. Would you look at that, it’s time to go.” 

Leaving you no time to respond, Lance pushes you out the door handing a purse in your hands, the contents inside are your phone, lip gloss, a small perfume bottle, and a piece of condom. You turn around glaring at your cousin, watching through the glass window, a smirk full of mischief behind them. 

You shake your head disappointed, pulling your phone you frantically type a message before meeting Alonso waiting patiently leaning at the passenger door. “How long have you been waiting?”

It was only then that Alonso looked up, “Not too long ago… Wow— Hello. Uhm… you look absolutely stunning, breath-taking.” 

A smile grows on your face, “You don’t look bad yourself, it’s been a while huh? This…”

Alonso nods his head, opening the door for you. You sit in the car, as you catch him taking a deep breath then fixing up his suit before entering the car with what seems to be a nervous smile on his face. 

Hopefully he’s as nervous as you— sitting up straight, hands building sweat as your breaths shorten the close proximity making you feel as if there’s a limited amount of air for you to breathe. It was new and jarring. You’ve been inside a car with Alonso before, but usually you have Ales or a surgery case in mind, now it’s just you two— not as Ales’ parents but as Alonso and YN.

“I’m nervous… truth be told, I haven’t thought this far ahead, I was stuck between asking you on a date and the ways to convince you. I’ve been scrambling around like a headless chicken on what to do, but I thought about your schedule and wanted to do something more chill and laid-back night out. No stress, fingers crossed.” Alonso laughs, taking small glances in your direction and focusing on the road ahead of him.

Your heart warms at Alonso’s train of thought, his attention to detail of your schedule leaves you in awe. You feel transported back in your 20s as Alonso picks you up from work during your anniversary and opting to stay in instead of celebrating out making sure you’re well rested.

Greeted by the familiar gates of his house, Alonso pulls his car in the driveway, opening your side of the door. “I thought we could eat dinner and talk in the safety of my house, is that okay? I forgot to tell you, maybe we could’ve worn something more casual but what’s wrong with dressing up for the occasion right?”

Taking Alonso’s hands you laugh at his words, “It’s all good, I think the outfits help bring the vibe. I mean where else will I get the chance to dress up outside charity events in the hospital? Thank you for bringing us here, I prefer the comfort of your home as well, and if you’re cooking it might beat whatever food I’m craving at the moment.”

Alonso opens the door, and you are greeted with a candle-lit kitchen, the lights in the living room set to dim with the soft sound of a piano playing somewhere completing the atmosphere of the house. “For some who’s been scrambling like a headless chicken this seems well thought out.” Shrugging your coat off, revealing the back of your dress— Alonso’s breath hitches, taking the coat from your arms. He couldn’t help but stare, especially when you’re looking this good, it would be illegal, the thoughts and words wanting to spill out of his mouth.

“You take my breath away as ever. I don’t think I’ll get used to this.” You laugh at Alonso playfully rolling your eyes, slapping his hands— you try not to get his words the best of you. Despite your heart going over 300 kilometers as blood rushes through your cheeks, you shake your head knowing how well Alonso is with words. “What are you not getting used to?”

“I don’t think I’ll get used to you being the mother of my child.” A small gasp escapes your lips, his words catching you off guard. You tilt your head, unsure of what Alonso meant by his words. “I think I got lucky, despite all that happened, you’re here and I’m spending time with Ales. I’m glad we’re doing this.”

A small smile escapes your lips, nodding to yourself, “I’m glad we worked things out, I think I can confidently say I’m happy of how far we’ve come, not just as Ales’ parents but our relationship has gotten better.”

Alonso laughs in agreement, before ushering you to one of the seats in the kitchen island watching him cook him your meal, catching up on things and what not. It was comfortable, and relieving, as time passes by you grow confident at how things are with you and Alonso. Sipping wine, laughing at jokes, and taking jibes at your situation— two years ago this would’ve never happened, you wouldn’t have let yourself feel vulnerable in front of him. 

Two years ago you only saw him as Ales’ father, but now he was your friend, Alonso. You take a sip of the wine as Alonso recalls a story from the past causing an outburst from you ending up in a debate on what actually happened.

“That wasn’t it, Lewis told me what happened between him and Nico.” Alonso glanced in your direction, brows raised at the revelation. “How come you know? I didn’t hear about this.”

You were taken aback, “Lewis called me the night after. and I may have helped him from Nico…” 

This time it was Alonso who gasped, leaning on the table waiting for you to tell more about the story, “I saw them fight, and Nico’s sister was there, watching it unfold with me, I couldn’t just stand and watch, I helped Lewis and left. Frankly it was none of my business and neither should you ask me about it.”

Squinting his eyes, Alonso pieces out the timeline before staring right through your eyes, “You were there when she gave birth right?” 

You press your lips into a thin line, “I can neither confirm nor deny— patient confidentiality.” Shaking your head, you avoid the conversation all together, thinking back of Lewis and Nico just opened a whole new can of worms you’re not ready to discuss, especially not to Alonso.

Despite your poor excuse, Alonso shrugs, letting you off and dropping the conversation completely. The night was slowly coming to an end, you helped Alonso with cleaning up not before another argument on cleaning up which you won in the end, leaving him no choice and instructing you to wipe the dishes after he cleans them.

You fall into the rhythm of habit that has once been for the two of you, nursing another glass of red as you sit on the couch with him as the night grows deeper. “I’m glad I got to do this with you, especially before the season starts. Maybe we can do this once a week with Ales next time.” 

Before the season starts.

Who would’ve thought that it would only take those two words before you escape the illusion of domesticity in front of you like a fish out of water. How long have you been talking without ever mentioning racing, ever? It was only then you realized that you never discussed racing with Alonso since.

You were feeling comfortable because of winter break, in your head he was just Ales’ father— but at the end of the day you’re forced to come back to reality, and he was still racing. And the season was about to begin. 

“The season is starting?” You repeat the words out of your own lips, you couldn’t believe it. The small bubble of you and Alonso actually working it out fades into thin air. And you find yourself falling into the same loop, facing the reality that things will never work out for you and Alonso. 

It didn’t happen then, and it wouldn’t happen now— especially not now, not until he chooses to race, and as far as you’d like to hold on, patiently waiting for him, you lose confidence in yourself to hold on any longer. With a man like Fernando— he wouldn’t end the blaze his firing up in his career, and as the season starts and holds promise, you doubt he would want to put a stop and end things.

Everything is hard, Alonso is a hard man to keep up with, he’s a beast on and off the track— as much as you’d prefer to have him all to yourself and Ales, you should’ve learned that by now. It’s selfish of you to demand of him, but whenever you see him with Ales, it’s tugging on your heart strings at his best efforts to form a relationship with him— not just Ales, but it’s slowly working on you. But you won’t let yourself forget.

In love there will always be choices, and for you, you’d rather not have Alonso at all if you’ll be sharing your time with him and his damn races. And this time, you’ll choose yourself and Ales all over again. “Shit, did I say something wrong?” You blink, staring at Alonso who was mumbling to himself.

Do you blame yourself for his worries?

At one point you did, but you know Alonso of all people will understand why you choose this, and as much as you want to try, it would be too much of a risk. “It’s about the start of the season right?”

Your silence only confirms Alonso’s worries, “I’m sorry YN, do you want to go home? I can take you-” you shake your head, placing the glass of wine on the coffee table, you up and leave not before grabbing your coat and purse from the kitchen island.

Alonso was much quicker, grabbing your arms, pulling you back in, resting his foot on the door stopping you from leaving. Opening your purse he holds his breath, after catching a glimpse of the condom in your purse, presumably ignoring it, he picks up your phone to message Lance.

“You’re not leaving at this time of night. I know you don’t want to stay any longer, but please wait for a few minutes. I messaged Lance and he’s on his way, please wait.”

Your lips twitch, your emotions and intuition conflicted at Alonso. Only he could set your heart into flames and you’d gladly walk through it if it’s him at the end waiting for you. Like a ticking time bomb, a test for your strength as your eyes wander all over his face.

“You know you can do whatever you want here, and after all of it you’re free to leave.” You suck in your teeth, this is the Fernando you knew— calculative. Proud. You knew he was playing mind games, but you couldn’t just get up and leave, not when Alonso racing causes a big effect on you, you’re on the losing side here. 

You step forward, walking towards the door, leaving Alonso no place to go, back flushed at the door, Alonso keeps his eyes on you, daring you to make a move. Inching closer, and closer, you press your body against him, hot breath fanning on his cheeks, keeping your eyes right through his. Knowing well that you can leave and make him want more, you keep your body tight against his, softly grazing your cheeks on the stubble of his beard.

His hands snake behind your back, back arching at the warmth of his hands, contradicting your cool back, lighting you ablaze as Alonso pulls you closer, for a kiss. Wet and hungry, you feel him smile as you smirk at him. Your fingers tingle, throwing them on top of Alonso’s hair, tugging and pulling them as he moves down your neck peppering them with kisses as your head lolls back giving him free range, like a painter presented with a blank canvas.

Your eyes roll, hips flushed against his, you’d gladly let yourself get lost in this moment, you’d gladly surrender yourself in his arms— but as much as you want to stay, the lights of Lance’s car pulling up outside the gate evokes a wake up call from you.

Pushing him away, you hand him the coat before turning around, it seems Alonso isn’t finished as he pulls you in closer for another kiss, whilst helping you put the coat on, pinning your ass flat against his before pressing sloppy kisses all over your neck. It was hot and heavy— head tilted to the side, as your hands ghost over his cheeks before yanking him away from you.

You stand in front of him, eyes staring over his brown ones as you watch a reflection of yourself, you wipe the smudged lipstick with your thumb before smearing it all over Alonso’s lips. You could barely ignore the sound of his heavy breaths leaving you intoxicated. “I guess this is goodbye, Alonso.” 

You pat his cheeks softly with a small smile on your face, grabbing your purse and pushing him to the side leaving him frozen as he watches you walk past him, making your beeline to the gate and onto Lance’s car.

“Is everything okay?” Lance asks you as you enter the car.

You nod, not trusting your own words. “Yeah… things— they happen.”

Lance nods, dropping the conversation before driving you back home.

You’ll never catch yourself slipping, not again.

★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine

[jinnify]

untited — lee minho

pairing: minho x reader genre: fluff/slice of life(?) warnings: none except for minho being a cheeky kitten word count: 1k now playing: just one day by bts extended note at the bottom.

“How was it?” Minho asked as he picked you up from your academy’s gymnasium. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be there for you next time.” You pouted, reaching over the console of his car to hug him, “Nine to thirteen, the other team could tell something was up, I guess.” You felt Minho squeeze you, “No worries, baby. We got another game this Wednesday, and I think this might be your best one.” You abruptly pulled back, giving Minho a confused look, “I need to get you banned from our practices. You’re starting to sound like my coach.”

Minho cutely smiled at you, resembling a rabbit baring its teeth. “Anyway,” he continued as he threw your backpack into the back seat, “are you staying over at mine like you promised?” He batted his eyes as he hopefully stared at you. “Well, actually,” you said as you lifted a finger, “I promised I’d stay over if we won tonight’s game,” you giggled as he silently mocked you. “Well, actually, I argued that it was unfair for me to get punished if you lost, and then you just got out of my car without replying.”

“Just go,” you playfully grumbled as you sunk into his passenger seat, exaggeratedly huffing as Minho laughed, putting his car into reverse. “Next time I go to one of your games, I’m sitting on the opposing team’s side,” you emptily threatened. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Baby! Wake up! I gotta get you to practice!” you heard Minho yell out as he burst into his room, holding a pair of pans he planned on smacking together if you didn’t wake up the first time he called. “Minho! Please, give me five more minutes!” You could hear a strange clanking noise as you rolled over, pulling Minho’s pillow over your head. “Winners don’t sleep in! Winners are at practice showing off their ass for their boyfriend!” Before he knew it, you ran towards him, “Wait, baby! I was kidding! I was just kidding!”

You only ran after him long enough to make sure he was far enough for you to lock the door when you ran back. You quickly flopped back onto Minho’s bed, breathing in his lingering scent. You heard the doorknob quietly rattle, signaling that Minho was back to annoy you. 

You heard a long whine from behind the door, “Come out. I need to feed Soonie!” You lifted your head, confused by what Minho meant. “I also made you some eggs to eat before I take you to practice.” You could’ve sworn you had seen Soonie while running after Minho.

“I’m not falling for that! I saw Soonie outside!” You heard Minho stomp away, going back into his kitchen. “Ha! I’m not getting out of bed for another twenty minutes.” You had almost fallen asleep when you heard a soft pawing at Minho’s door. Oh, shit. A delicate meow, followed by a weight on your stomach, was everything you needed before you were up and out the door with Soonie in tow.

Minho chuckled to himself as he looked over and pinched your cheeks. “Winners don’t go to practice grumpy,” he cooed at you. “Minho, I swear if I hear the word ‘winner’ come out of your mouth one more time, I’m going to throw myself out of this car and walk home.”

“Okay,” click, “let’s not do that, actually.”

“Y’know, maybe we need to start bringing Soonie to my practices. Every time I see him before a game, we win,” you grumbled as you looked out the window. “Should I be feeling jealous of my cat right now? Because I feel jealous of my cat,” Minho pouted as he pulled into the gymnasium your team used to practice.

“Alright! Do your stretches! We start in 10 minutes!” your coach yelled as you walked through the side door, frantically tapping his watch at you. Minho immediately pulled you to the bleachers to help you switch your shoes as you put on your knee pads. “You see. You were holding up practice!” Minho teases while he ties up your laces.

“Don’t say that. You know how bad I already feel about being late,” you say as you lightly smack Minho’s shoulder. “I’m just kidding, baby,” he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “now let’s get started on stretches.”

You were thankful Minho had decided to stay for practice today. Your coach was as tough as ever because of your recent loss. Having Minho there as moral support was the only thing keeping you going. Seeing him pump his fist in the air as he cheered on your entire team warmed your heart.

“You look funny from the back,” you heard Minho chuckle as he walked up while you tried to catch your breath. “Wow, thank you, baby. Exactly what I need to hear after that god-awful practice,” you rolled your eyes as you stood back up. He stifled his laugh as you pushed past him to grab your water bottle. “Okay, I see you’re not in the mood. Are you ready to go home?”

“Actually, do you think we could practice together?”

Minho hesitated before reaching for your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, “I think we need to rest up instead. You’ve been at it for nearly six hours.”

“Please? Just another hour. Ga-Eul is staying as well.” Minho could sense the desperation in your voice as he looked over to your teammate, who simply nodded in encouragement, “Fine, I’ll help. But just for an hour!”

Of course, the hour came and went like it was nothing, but at least you were feeling a lot better. Minho was much nicer than your coach was today, which was expected but still definitely appreciated.

Minho interlocked his fingers with yours as you walked toward his car, “you feeling better?” His question sounded casual, but his tone was so soft you knew he was genuinely concerned. “I do. Thank you, my love,”  you leaned in to kiss his cheek, not missing the soft blush that covered his ears.

EXTENDED NOTE. okay look 😔 i like this version so much more even if i didn't add that much to it. i just feel better about it >< anyway im definitely replacing the current version of this on the masterlist with this one so if you like the old one im sorry

ORIGINAL REQUEST. Hi, hello! Could you write up something with Minho and a volleyball player s/o? Like he's there at every game and practice, and even drives to away games/tournaments- AND HE HELPS YOU PRACTICE OH LAWD- 😫

#✉️ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ requests. #📄*: ･ﾟ anon. #stray kids #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #minho x reader #minho fic #minho imagines #minho scenarios #minho fluff #📁 stray kids: lee know

[ktsumu]

hello kit i come to you for your wrapped event 🤭 hehe as an iwa rep 😌 i would like to request iwaizumi hajime + 17 (or 4, whichever is better!) if that's ok 🥹 and the genre is entirely up to you!! (just no angst pls... i will cry)

oh my god this was such a hard choice that i literally might have to write the other one anyway .. cannot believe you picked iwa and 4 this is a PERFECT combo

iwaizumi + 4: sweater weather genre: fluff with a little kissin' !! reader is a cali girl and iwa knows his cars wc: 0.9k note: the car type is an easter egg if anyone knows it teehee

send me a number + a character and i'll write you a drabble!

Half of Iwaizumi's heart will never leave California, he's sure of it. Half of it will never leave this house.

It's a little blue neighbourhood house in one of the pockets of suburbia you and your friends drove him to, a friend of a friend's house. Something like that.

(Iwaizumi doesn't remember why you all show up there every day, but he doesn't really care that much.)

Every time, it'd be just around dinner when you all met there. You'd sit on the couch, talking to everyone, introducing your handsome boyfriend to anyone who showed. He doesn't remember ever eating dinner anywhere else than in this kitchen.

(He used to be afraid of being homesick. In high school, he never really pictured leaving. You make him think he was born to leave.)

"Excuse us," you say, standing up from couch arm you sat on, taking his hand. "We'll be right back."

Iwaizumi's brows raise as you take his hand, standing up with him in tow, but he doesn't question you— no, he's never questioned you— as he follows you down the hallway.

You're out the door with a grin, walking over to the driveway where all the cars are. You toss him a set of keys.

He catches them against his chest as he pauses, squinting in the last life of today's sun. "Seriously?"

You slip into the car, grabbing his sunglasses and putting them on. "Why not?"

"Uh, because's that's a '68 Benz?"

"What, you still don't have a license?"

"I do, but—"

"Do you trust me?"

He sighs a laugh. "I don't trust myself."

"That's okay," you say with a wink, patting the driver's seat. "I trust you enough for the both of us."

Iwaizumi swallows, glancing back at the house before sighing, getting into the car.

"You're gonna be the death of me,"

"I'll be the death of us, actually, so drive safe!"

(He rolls his eyes, but he starts the engine.)

Iwaizumi drives, but you give him directions— you told all of your friends you'd be right back, but he doesn't see you getting home anytime soon, not when he watches you lean over into the breeze. He can smell the ocean and your perfume, and he fights to keep his eyes on the road.

He starts to think you're keeping him driving on purpose until you tell him to turn off on the empty highway you've landed on.

"Here?"

"It's a real road, I swear."

"...Alright."

The car rolls through the gravel which turns into sand, coming to a stop when you tell him. The sun starts going down again, like it waited for the two of you to get to where you were going before starting to go again. Waves crash and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"A beach."

"Mhm," you say with a smile. "Your favourite!"

Truth be told, he's never been a huge beach guy— sand that makes a home in your shoes, sunburns that never leave. But, you know, if you're down, so is he.

Iwaizumi furrows his brows, undoing his seatbelt just after you. "Hey, where are you going?"

You don't answer, just jog out into the sand.

"Okay, whatever, coming."

When he gets out to round the car, tucking the car keys in his pocket, he stumbles back into the hood when you grip his shirt and kiss him. He finds his footing in the sand first, and then his hands find your hips.

He leans back so you can crawl into his lap, gripping his hair, kissing him like it's the last thing you'll ever do. His fingers dip into the belt loops of your jean shorts, his other hand sneaking beneath your shirt and up your back; he feels the goosebumps on your nape and he wonders if they're from him or the breeze.

(You sigh into his neck, your lips trailing past his jaw; he knows it's him.)

When you finally pull away, he doesn't kiss you.

"What now?" you ask with a small smile, the sun on your cheeks and hands still bunched in his clothes.

Iwaizumi leans back on the hood of the car, grinning up at you, shaking his head. "Nothing. I can't just look?"

"That's kinda boring."

"Hah, whatever."

You hum a laugh, looking over your shoulder at the water.

"You're trying to tell me that you can see all of this and you might actually go home someday?"

Iwaizumi's looking at you when he tells you it's really hard to.

"Well," you murmur, "make sure to tell your Miyagi friends about your Cali fling, Haji."

"Fling? You're nuts."

"Ooh, do you love me?"

Iwaizumi's cheeks flush red as you laugh, leaving a gentle peck on his lips.

"Well, for the record, I guess I can love you, too."

"Wow, what's the dealbreaker?"

"I mean... come on, who doesn't love the beach!?"

He groans, watching as you slip off of him and the car, tugging your shirt over your head and dropping it to the ground. He raises a brow, but you just tsk. "You're still on my case about that, huh?"

"You're in California, freak."

"What'd you just call me?"

You bite your lip, snorting a laugh as you slowly back up towards the water. "Freak?"

"Oh, that's it—"

Iwaizumi wears a huge grin as he tugs his shirt off, too, dropping it by yours as you both ditch your shoes and run. You think you'd have the upper hand, but you almost forget who he is.

He catches up to you quickly when you take a turn for the water, grabbing you from the waist as you scream.

"Haji!" you laugh, "Your pants!"

He looks down at his wet pant legs, but he ignores it; he turns you around, hands on either side of your waist.

You smirk. "And to think I thought you hated the beach?"

Iwaizumi chuckles, shaking his head, little splashes of water dripping from his eyelashes.

"Who says I don't?" he challenges, hands drifting under your thighs as he wraps your legs around his waist. "Maybe I just do when you're not here."

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x you #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu!! x reader #wrapped.event

[green-thots]

Life Waster - CL16 x FemDriver!Reader - Chapter One

Masterlist Next

Authors Note: This took me absolutely forever because I spent more time thinking and watching edits of Charles on TikTok than I did doing actual writing. There’s probably a lot of typos and grammar mistakes so just ignore that. Additionally, any feedback is much appreciated!

Warnings: Swearing, slight mention of death, mentions of weed, if I missed any please tell me

—

A Grammy and Rock Sound feature was always the goal, but shit happens I guess. Life was great, we were selling out stadiums and on the verge of our first world tour; then he died and everything fell apart. Formula 1 was always Dad’s dream, not mine, but I think a piece of me died along with him, and I threw myself into racing to fill the JJ-sized hole in my heart. All I was left with was a hard drive of the songs we had written over the years and a letter telling me to go kick some ass. I dove headfirst into the depths of uncertainty and somehow still made it out on top.

“Ms. L/N, we’re here.” The driver calls from the front seat, looking at me in skepticism through the rear view mirror.

I mutter in thanks as I open the car door and step out toward the doors of the front office, backpack in tow. The only directions left for me in the email were to head to the front office in the morning and someone would guide me from there. There’s a lady at the desk with black glasses perched atop her nose as she tapped away at her computer. She barely acknowledges me at first, but after a few seconds of standing there, she looks up at me.

”Oh, hello,” She says with a kind smile, “What can I help you with?”

“Uh, I’m Y/N L/N. I was told that someone would meet me at the front office.” I naw the inside of my cheek, slightly terrified at the new environment.

”Oh, yes. We’ve been expecting you,” If possible, her smile grows wider and she picks up the receiver of the phone, beginning to dial a number, “I’ll call down and let Mr. Horner know that you’ve arrived.”

We sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before she starts to speak into the phone. “Hi, Christian. Ms. L/N is down at the office.” She pauses while the other person on the phone speaks. “Okay, thank you, buh-bye.”

”April is on her way down to get you and give you a tour,” she says, her French accent much more prominent than it was before. “In the meantime, I’ll get you all set up.”

She digs around below her desk for a moment, before finally popping up and setting a keycard on a red lanyard with the words ‘driver’s pass’ on the desk in front of me. “This is your temporary pass, you’ll get a new one with your picture on it after media and such is done, but for now this is going to get you wherever you need to go on the property.”

“Thank you,” I say with a nod, as a tall girl in a Red Bull Racing jacket walks through the door to the right.

The lady at the desk smiles at the other girl and says, “I’m Susie and I’ll always be here for whatever you need. Trust me, those boys can be a handful.”

I force a smile at her, praying it looks genuine enough because I knew what kind of shit storm I was walking into and still signed the contract anyway, like an idiot.

The tall girl holds out her hand to me and says, “Lovely to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” She talks fast and barely gives herself a second to breathe before continuing. “I’m April, and I’ll be your personal trainer, assistant, therapist, honestly just whatever you might need while you’re here with the Red Bull teams.”

There’s a hint of humor to her voice so I try to let out a laugh, but it’s hard when I’ve spent the last year or so wallowing in self pity.

“I know this whole experience is much different than F2 and I hate to rush you while you take it in but we do have to get started with the tour so you can meet Mr. Horner before he leaves for his debrief.” April says, grabbing her own pass off her neck, which instead says ‘staff’ and turns toward the door she came through before.

“If I would have known I was meeting important people today I would have worn something nicer than a hoodie.” I grumble to myself.

April must have heard me because she wiggles her finger at me with a smirk on her face and says, “You’re funny, I like you.”

We walk in silence out into the parking lot between the front building and the massive team building. April asks, “Do you have a car over here yet?”

”No, I haven’t really got around to that yet.” I reply, taking in the view of all the sports cars lined up that probably cost more than the house I grew up in each.

“Oh, well when you do, this is driver parking. Most guys tend to keep a car at their homes here rather than taking a cab since it’s a lot of back and forth.” She gestures to all of the cars parked in front of their respective sections. “The guard over at the side gate will buzz you in 24/7 if you just show him your pass.”

“Good to know.” I say as we walk up to the two glass doors with the Red Bull logo painted above.

The opening lounge is small, but still gives a feeling of comfort, rather than sterile like the front office. There are trophies lining the shelves on the walls and two World Champion trophies are held in a glass case front and center.

“Your home base is actually in the Alpha Tauri section next door but the team is meeting here for the sake of simplicity.” April says, throwing a smile at me over her shoulder as she turns left down the hallway.

She stops at a door labeled ‘boardroom’ and winks at me saying, “They aren’t as scary as they seem.”

Well that’s comforting.

April knocks twice and opens the door to reveal to reveal four guys seated around the table; two of which dressed head to toe in Red Bull gear as if they just stepped out of a commercial, one of which in a full suit, and the shortest one dressed as if he had just woken from a nap.

“Mr. Horner, this is Y/N.” April says, gesturing to me as I step into the room behind her. I’ve never met Christian Horner outside of a five minute phone call but I can only assume who he is as the man in the suit stands up and holds out his hand to me.

”Y/N L/N, it's so great to finally meet you in person.” Christian says, shaking my hand. “Unfortunately I do have to get going because the engineers can get quite pissy when things are behind schedule, but I suppose you know all about that from Formula 2, right?”

”Yeah, my team had quite the attitude.” I say, trying to sound funny but somehow sounding like the uptight bitches I used to race with back in F3.

“Anyways,” he says, still keeping up his diplomatic smile. “Boys, this is Y/N L/N, the new driver for Alpha Tauri. I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.”

Christian excuses himself and heads out the door, leaving me with April, who is still somewhat of a stranger, and the three men who I have only ever seen on TV.

The first guy stands up and gives me a smile that could light up even the darkest of rooms, “I’m Daniel Riccardo, I actually drive for Red Bull but we’ll probably still see a lot of each other.” He points at the guy next to him and continues. “Mr. Two Time World Champ over here is Max Verstappen, I assume you know who he drives for.”

Max nods at me and says, “Welcome to the team, Y/N.” His Dutch accent very prominent.

Finally, Daniel turns to the guy at the end of the table, “Last but certainly not least, the little firecracker over there is Yuki Tsunoda.”

Yuki rolls his eyes at the nickname and starts, “Hey, I’ll be driving on Alpha Tauri with you.”

”Firecracker as in his favorite English word is fuck and he sure knows how to use it,” April chimes in, a near permanent smile stuck to her face.

Yuki smiles and laughs quietly as Max says, “I trust April will get you all ready for media day tomorrow.”

”I was really hoping I was done with photoshoots but I guess even a change in career didn’t help with that.” I say, still not fully believing that this wasn’t a dream and I’m actually in Formula 1.

“Well, we better continue with our tour and let the boys get back to whatever work I know they are trying to avoid.” April says, eyeing Daniel with a knowing look as she opens the door to the hall.

“See y’all tomorrow,” I say, looking back at the group of guys staring at me. I then follow April out the door, a chorus of goodbyes yelled behind me.

April leads me back outside and then through the glass doors to the Alpha Tauri section. She finally stops once we reach a door that had already been labeled with my last name.

”This is your drivers room,” She says, opening the door to a plain room with a couch and a small vanity, “Feel free to decorate however you see fit.”

I can already visualize my plans for the room; some scenic pictures to hang on the walls, a few comfy blankets to throw on the couch for naps in between meetings, and maybe a cute rug to cover up the concrete floor.

April gestures to the closet next to the vanity, “Your fireproofs, suit, helmet, and any other gear you may have ordered are in the closet.”

Set on the vanity is a vase of flowers with a card tucked under the vase. I step over and pick up the card, carefully tearing open the envelope, and reading it. Inside are the words, ‘Welcome to The Grid, Y/N’ and it seems to have been signed by every driver on The Grid.

”I think they’re trying to make a good impression on the first female competitor they’ve seen in a long time; you might even be the first for the newer ones.” April says, looking over my shoulder.

“Well it takes a lot more to impress me than flowers, I mean even my freshman prom date bought me flowers.” I say, laughing at their attempt to soften me up.

”Your garage is right down the hall and it's labeled so you’ll be able to find it easily. Sadly, we can’t go in today, but you’ll get to see the car on Wednesday when you meet your engineer and we start the first round of pre-season practices.” April says, leaning up against the closet, “You’ll have to be ready to go for media in the main building with all your gear tomorrow at 1:00 but feel free to get ready here.”

”Well at least I’ll get to sleep off some of this jet lag,” I joke.

”That’s the spirit, take every moment you get to sleep, it’ll help.” April says, rubbing her hands together as she continues, “Now, we go meet the Athletic Trainer for a pee test and your first physical.”

Well I guess that means no more pot for me.

-

I flop face first down onto my bed, well if it can really be considered a bed. Right now I’m just sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my apartment. I haven’t had the time or energy to unpack so everything is just sitting around in boxes, and the furniture I did buy, has yet to be built or unboxed.

My physical lasted much longer than I had anticipated; the strength testing and medical assessments taking up much of the rest of the day. The six hour time difference is really beginning to take a toll on me and I am nearly asleep when my phone buzzes next to me.

Dad: Your mom showed up at my doorstep, screaming that you were nowhere to be found. Care to explain?

Fuck that. I’ll deal with him in the morning.

-

As I stand before the mirror, dressed in my race suit with my hair loosely curled and my makeup freshly done, I have to take slow, deep breaths to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. All eyes are going to be on me today because the first woman on The Grid in nearly ten years is sure to be a spectacle for the other drivers and staff. I should be used to having people stare at me. Hell, I spent years performing on stage in front of massive crowds. But my ‘fall from grace’ as the Rock world has dubbed it, has caused me to hate the constant stares of others. Formula 1 might not have been the best choice of career, but I need to take back the piece of my childhood that I cherished dearly.

My phone dings from its place on the vanity;

April: We’re nearly ready to start shooting, so get over here as soon as you can :)

If these guys have managed to find anything about who I was years ago, I’m sure their opinions of me are already set in stone, but I still can’t let holding up the order of business lead them to think I’m inconsiderate to everyone else’s schedule.

I speed-walk my way out of the Alpha Tauri building and over to the main building, carrying my helmet just in case I need it for a photo.

When I enter the room where the cameras were being set up, all the drivers were huddled around in little circles. The lively colors of each team’s uniform were intermixed, showing that they all must get along well. If they don’t like me, it seems that I’ll be spending the majority of the next year alone.

With the spectacular luck that life has given me, the door is extremely squeaky, causing everyone to look up at me. Immediately, Max waves me over to the group he was standing with.

Hesitantly, I walk over and the tall blonde guy in the Mercedes uniform eyes me with a smile.

”Well you look scared shitless,” He says, the slightly devious but still kind smirk present on his face.

”Don’t be a dick, George,” The French one next to him says as he elbows George in the stomach, “I’m Pierre. Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.”

”Hey, I’m not that bad,” George throws back, giving Pierre a slight shove. The other guys laugh at their antics, so I force out a little laugh.

I barely get another second to listen to their introductions before a staff member calls out, “L/N, you’re up first! Tsunoda, you’re on deck!” I send an awkward wave to the group as I walk over to where the cameras are set up.

”Alright, we’ll need you to fill out the first day of F1 board.” The staff member says, passing a chalkboard to me.

I begin to fill it out.

Name: Well that’s easy.

Season: #1

I Am From: Miami, FL

My Fave Food Is: Mac & Cheese

My Hype Song Is:…

I’m tempted to put one of my songs here, but I think I’ll make them work harder to discover that piece of me.

My Hype Song Is: Gimme Gimme Gimme - Abba

This Year I Will: Kick ass.

I stand in front of the camera as the photographer snaps a few photos of me with the board. Again, everyone in the room is staring at me.

”Hey Logan, we found you a Floridian!” George calls out in the direction of the blonde in the Williams Racing suit.

Tall blonde- who must be Logan- gives me a bright smile and calls out, “we gotta represent, girly!”

I actually let out a laugh at this as a staff member takes the board from me and sets me up for the headshots. Not knowing what the usual protocol for Formula 1 headshots is, I give the camera a light smile.

I can feel someone staring at me intently, as if they look hard enough they could see the deepest parts of my soul. When I look over to the area behind the camera where all the drivers are standing around, I immediately see Mr. Laser Eyes.

He’s partly concealed by the shadows but his dark eyes still bare into my soul. His hair is a dark and curly mess, like he’s just gotten out of bed; but damn does he make bedhead look good. He’s dressed in an almost too tight Ferrari suit. He towers over Tsunoda, but that isn’t too hard to achieve.

We hold eye contact for a few seconds; it's almost magnetic, before he shifts his eyes back to the conversation he was having with Pierre and George.

“Okay, that’s all we needed,” The photographer says, motioning me off the stool as he calls for Tsunoda.

I walk back over to Pierre, George, and the Ferrari driver who had been staring at me. Immediately, he looks me up and down with a smirk before saying, “Good choice of music, rookie.”

My face heats up, and I’m sure I look like a walking tomato. “Yeah, Momma Mia is my favorite musical.” I say quietly.

George and Pierre start snickering to themselves quietly as the Ferrari driver says, “I’m Charles Leclerc.”

Even his accent is fucking sexy.

“Y/N L/N.” I reply.

”Don’t worry, everyone knows your name already.” Charles says with a little laugh. This puts a look of fear and shock on my face.

”In two weeks time, everyone in the world is going to know your name.” George says, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

”Yeah that makes me feel a lot better, thanks Princess.” I spit back sarcastically, using the well-known nickname the media has given George in recent years. Pierre cackles hysterically, so much so that he struggles to catch his breath.

After a bit of throwing sarcastic insults back-and-forth with George, and him taking his turn for headshots, individual pictures are complete.

“Wait, we have to get a group picture of this years’ rookies!” Max calls, a devious smile on his face as he looks in my direction. I roll my eyes as I walk over in front of the camera and am joined by Logan and the blonde McLaren driver.

“I’m Oscar,” the McLaren driver says and he and Logan stand on either side of me. We put our arms around each other's shoulders “to show unity” as the photographer told us. The three of us gave bright smiles to the camera, trying to show that Formula 1 isn’t as scary as it seems when in reality, all of us are terrified to step out onto that track for the first time.

“Alright, lets get all of the drivers out here now.” The photographer says after snapping. Few photos of Logan, Oscar, and I. Immediately, the staff get to work on moving a bunch of prop boxes out into the studio as all the drivers flood the area. I’m directed by the photographer to sit on the tallest box, which I do have to get a running start to jump up on, and lean back on my hands with my legs crossed.

After a few moments of getting everyone else into position, the photographer finally gives us the signal to get our game faces on. Noticing that no one else is smiling at the camera, I tilt my head back a bit and glare at the camera. Although I am the highest up and the farthest back, I’m sure you will still be able to pick up my noticeable annoyance by looking at me in the photo.

“Everyone is free to go!” A lady, who I’m assuming is the head of media, yelled into the crowd of drivers. As everyone disperses, I’m speed walking to the door as to get out of there as quickly as possible, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I whip around to see George, Pierre, Oscar, Logan, and a few other drivers I haven’t formally met yet.

George looks at me with puppy eyes as he says, “We’re going out to get drinks, do you want to come with?”

They’re all staring at me intently, waiting for my reply.

”I can’t. I actually haven’t even unpacked my stuff yet and the furniture for my apartment hasn’t been built yet so I better get on that.” I say, avoiding eye contact so I don’t have to see the disappointed looks on their faces.

”What if we help you unpack?” The British, curly-haired boy asks, before saying with a wink. “Lando Norris, at your service. Do you have booze?”

I freeze up, not expecting them to want to change their plans to hang out with me so soon after meeting them. “I mean I guess, but my fridge is completely empty, so no booze.”

”Eh, we’ll just make Max pick some up on his way,” Lando says, waving it off while George yells, “Fuck yeah, party time!” Leading the entire room to burst into laugher.

Well, this is either going to end in losing my security deposit or getting so drunk that I won’t remember what embarrassing shit I’m sure to do by tomorrow morning.

#Life Waster #Lynnie’s word vomit #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula one #formula 1 #yuki tsunoda #pierre gasly #george russell #lando norris #original character #oscar piastri #logan sargeant

[myonos]

Partner In Hatred (pt 3/4)

• heeseung x female reader • e2l • wc: 1.3k

• genre: fluff, angst?

• warnings! mutual bullying(?), swearing, heeseung and y/n are both dickheads to each other 🤣 insults, rumor spreading, physical violence in the first part, mention of a bone breaking.

• summary: Y/N and Heeseung have been enemies since the age of 5. The universe keeps them in each others lives until one day when Heeseung moves away. After years apart, Y/N and Heeseung meet again after he moves back home for college. Both are dreading seeing the other again until they realize, they’re both hot now?

masterlist

taglist: @cowstiddymilk

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The girls planned a beach trip today; this is the first activity you’re doing since graduation. The wind blows through your hair as the sun strikes down. The plan is to soak up some sun and splash around in the water. You're an adult now, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself.

The sand comes up to the parking lot. You dig your toes in it. It’s warm, like a hug; it makes you feel fuzzy inside.

You don’t forget to apply sunscreen as you all lay down your towels. Your phone buzzes as you lay down, and it’s a message from Heeseung.

Heeseung

What are you doing?

You think for a second, maybe you should invite Heeseung here.

“Would you guys mind if I invited Heeseung to hang with us?”

They all squeal, yes.

“Tell him to invite friends, too. It’ll be fun!” Hanni says.

You

I’m at the beach with my friends. We’re inviting you, bring whoever you want ;).

Heeseung

Bet. We’ll be there in 20.

You smile, this should be fun.

The sun is crisping you up, like bacon.

After what you assume to be 20 minutes, you hear a horn honk and your name being called.

Heeseung steps out of a car with 6 other guys in tow.

The 6 other guys are Heeseung’s best friends. You’ve known them as long as you’ve known Heeseung. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki. They’ve also known about your previous feud with Heeseung and were always trying to get you both to call a truce.

“Hi, you look nice,” Heeseung says as he sets his stuff down next to you.

You raise an eyebrow at the compliment. “I’m just wearing a bathing suit.”

“Well, yeah, but you still look nice. The color suits you.”

“Thank you.”

You turn away, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You hope he can’t see them.

Abruptly, Heeseung is pulling you up.

“What are you doing?” You squeal.

“We’re gonna go play. Come on.”

There is no room for protest as Heeseung drags you into the water. You shriek at how cold it is, before splashing Heeseung right in his face. He wastes no time and splashes you right back. Now it’s war, again. Except this time you will not get into trouble. Back and forth you both splash, using arms, legs, hands, whatever you can.

You rapidly splash him, to where he can longer fight back.

“Okay, okay!” He shouts, “You win!”

You stop thinking he’s had enough. What you don’t expect is for him to rush forward, grabbing you around the waist. You yell as he picks you up over his shoulder. You smack his back as you laugh and he spins around, making you dizzy.

“Put me down!” You yell.

He puts you down and in your state of dizziness; you push him hard enough to knock him over.

You run back to shore, sticking your tongue out as you leave him.

You notice the other guys run over to tackle him and continue to play as you sit down on your towel.

“You two definitely like each other,” Ningning says, sipping her water.

Hanni and Yunjin hum in agreement.

“How? It’s only been a day since we met again!” You scoff.

“And in a day you went from past enemies to best friends who flirt.”

“You haven’t seen each other in so long, and you’re both hot as fuck now. Why not?” Hanni exclaims, throwing her hands up.

You’ll never be able to explain why Hanni gets so worked up over relationship stuff. Although, she proclaims herself as a “lover of love” and “matchmaker”. You decide to ignore them. You and Heeseung don’t have to like each other to be friends now, right?

You watch the boys play in front of you. Heeseung looks happy, happier than you ever saw him. You’re glad to see him happy, which is something you never thought you’d say. Looking back at the years you and Heeseung hated each other, you realize it was almost for nothing.

Here you are, no longer enemies, no longer the bane of each other's existence. You’re happy to see one another, even to hang out with each other’s friends. You never saw this coming for you and Heeseung, especially within a day, but you accept this new part of your life with open arms.

You’re going to the same college too. Maybe you’ll hang out even more then. But that’s coming, you’d rather focus on the present.

Your thoughts are cut short by Heeseung running up to you, again.

“What now?” You groan, but you can’t help matching his smile.

“We’re gonna play chicken, we want you all to play.” He refers to your friends as well, who protest but you interrupt them, “Of course we will.”

The girls groan except theirs are genuine. You, of course, partner up with Heeseung.

The others partner up accordingly and then it’s on.

You and Heeseung are strong, both known for being heavy-handed. You easily knock Hanni off of Jungwon’s shoulders, then you take out Yunjin. Ningning looks terrified and you can tell she will not try, so you put her out of her misery.

It’s a hard battle against the other guys who paired up with each other, Sunghoon is strong but after two quick pushes to his shoulder, you knocked him off Niki’s shoulders. With that, you and Heeseung are victorious.

“You two become friends and are suddenly inconceivable, it’s almost unfair!” Sunghoon whines.

“You’re mad, loser.” As Heeseung continues to taunt the other boys, they waste no time in, once again, tackling him. It’s an enormous pile of boys, so you and the girls venture off to the side to avoid being dragged in.

You decide to look through the clear water for shells. Maybe you’ll make a necklace.

Once everyone has calmed down, you’ve got many shells, enough to make a necklace for everyone. Hunger has also made its way to everyone, and you all decide to buy food at the stand across the parking lot.

It’s good, and within half an hour everyone has finished eating.

You spend the rest of the day at the beach, learning about one another and making plans to hang out again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As you lay in your bed, ready to sleep, your phone buzzes. Heeseung is calling you.

He’s put on speaker, “Hello.”

“Hey, I had a lot of fun today. I’m glad we’re gonna see more of each other.”

“I had a lot of fun, too. We all did. Your friends are really fun to be around. You are really fun to be around.”

You pause, thinking about what you’re going to say next.

“It’s funny that we could’ve been friends sooner had we just gotten over ourselves. Then again, I think everything happens for a reason.”

“I agree,” He says. “I called to thank you for today but also, I wanted to know more about you since we’re still new friends.”

“You wanna know more about me? Like what?”

“Like your favorite color, favorite food. Your hobbies, stuff like that. I enjoy knowing what my friends like.”

“Then I wanna know about you too. Let’s go back and forth. What’s your favorite color?” You hear him breathe over the phone like he’s preparing his answer.

“It kinda changes every once in a while but as of right now black, purple, and white.”

Your bathing suit was. Maybe that’s why he complimented it.

“Is that why you complimented my bathing suit? It was purple!”

“Yeah… that’s why.” You almost take notice of the pause before he speaks again. “What about you?”

“My favorite color is orange! People always question me when I say that but it has so many pretty shades.”

“I like orange. I kinda get that vibe when I look at you so it makes sense.”

Both of you go back and forth, talking about anything and everything you can think of. By the time you recall hanging up, it's past 3 am. You feel you’re in a movie, spending hours on the phone. With a boy no less. But it's not like that, right?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

please excuse any typos, etc i’ll go back through later ….or not.

#enhanet #enhypen #enhypen headcanons #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha socmed au #enhypen social media au #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x yn #heeseung oneshots #heeseung x reader #heeseung packs #heeseung icons #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fluff #myonos

[loveisonaroll]

Major Confusion, Part 2

Here it is! Part 2.

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: general angst, arguing, swearing, fluff.

------------------------

“Y/N? Ronnie, hey.”

Jake’s eyes were wide as he stood a few feet from you with his hand stretched out towards you, as if he was reaching out to stop you from leaving. 

“Hey, sorry I’m a little late. What’s going on, Y/N? Are you okay? You look like shit.” 

What do you say? She seemed genuinely concerned, you thought, but how could she be worried about you when everyone else in the house wanted you gone? When you didn’t answer, Jake’s venomous voice rang in your ears.

“Of course, you’re skipping out now. God, you couldn’t even wait until after our end of tour party to leave? You’re a coward.” 

Your eyes once again filled with tears as you stared past Ronnie’s shoulder. You didn’t need to turn around to know Jake’s face held a look of disgust. 

“Jake, that’s fucking rude—”

“No, Ronnie, he’s right. I am too much of a coward to stay in a home where I’m no longer welcome. It was nice getting to spend time with you this week. I hope you’ll still visit me.” 

As you turned to rush towards your car, you noticed two things: 1) your car was, in fact, blocked in by one of your guests, and 2) both yours and Jake’s parents were getting out of their respective vehicles. You froze for a beat before turning back towards Jake and Ronnie. 

“Our parents. My parents,” you rushed out, mirroring Jake’s widened eyes. You grabbed your bag off of your shoulder and thrusted it in Ronnie’s hands. “I’m going to go clean up. Just…let’s just get through this. Everything is fine.” 

You rushed back up the stairs towards the bedroom to freshen up your makeup. You stared at your reflection for a moment in disbelief. Your parents were known to flake on your plans. You had lived in the city a mere two hours from your hometown for almost ten years, and you could count on one hand the times they had ever visited you. They had been invited to the party, and you were excited to show off your newly completed home. But they had canceled a couple days beforehand, which was unfortunately not a surprise to you. It was, however, a surprise to you that they had shown up anyways. You just hoped you could keep the obvious end of your relationship a secret until you had the chance to process it yourself. 

After you went back downstairs, the party moved along without a hitch with you and Jake staying to opposite sides of every room. Thankfully, both your and Jake’s parents treated you like normal, asking about the furniture you had picked out and how exciting it must be to have a home in your favorite city. Ronnie seemed to divide her time with you and her brothers equally, though you could see her irritation with Jake from across the room with every eyeroll. 

“So has Jake seen his office yet?” Karen smiled, wrapping a warm arm around your shoulders.

You smiled hesitantly back and bit your lip. “No, he hasn’t. He’s been busy with company since he got in.” You silently hoped she would accept your response without any comment. 

“Well, I would like to see it. Maybe we can all go see it together?” 

Before you could stop her, she was making her way towards her husband and Jake who were having a side conversation near the bar. As if she could see the terror on your face, Ronnie appeared at your side. 

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…your mom wants all of us to go look at the office. I just think he’s going to hate it and it’s going to be so embarrassing in front of your parents and my parents.”

Ronnie’s hand fell to your shoulder as she shook her head. “He’s not going to hate it. I think he’s going to love it. You put so much thought into it.”

As much as Ronnie tried to encourage you, you just couldn’t shake his words of irritation earlier when you had mentioned adding a little something to his office. When Karen reappeared by your side with her husband, your boyfriend, and your parents in tow, you were almost positive you were going to vomit from your nerves. 

“Let’s see this office, shall we?” Kelly, Jake’s dad, clapped his hands together and looked at you expectedly. 

Maybe you were moving too slow, or maybe you were stalling, but Jake huffed slightly and grabbed your hand to pull you in the direction of his home office and studio. “No time like the present for a present, darling,” he joked to hide his annoyance from your entourage. 

The closer you got to the room, the more anxious you became. “If you don’t like it, I can just take everything out and put it back the way it was,” you rambled nervously. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll love it, Jake! Y/N’s just being modest. I’ve seen the pictures and I think it’s perfect!” Jake’s mom gushed and your mother nodded her head in agreement from her spot next to her. 

Even still, your anxiety was taking ahold of you. Your eyes started to water and your throat felt like it was closing up as you made eye contact with Jake. His abrasive demeanor seemed to falter a bit when your eyes met, but you just shook your head and bit your lip as you turned the doorknob. 

The collective gasps eased the tension in your shoulders a bit as you and your group entered the room. 

“Oh, honey, you did such a beautiful job,” you mother cooed. Similarly, Jake’s parents offered their own praises for the room. 

The room really did seem to fit Jake perfectly. With the help of Jake’s dad Kelly, you had transformed the built-in bookshelves into climate-controlled instrument cases that lined one wall of the office. On the opposite end of the room from the point of entrance was a large bay window with the set of worn leather chairs Jake had purchased for his previous apartment—his first big furniture purchase as an adult. Throughout the office were various bohemian rugs of rich colors and enough furniture to have all of Jake’s brothers and friends play music with him. The wall opposite the instrument cases, though, held your own personalization of the space. The ceilings in your home were 13 feet, and you filled that space with prints of first-edition patents of some of Jake’s favorite things framed in custom built sound-absorbing frames. Patents of various instruments, including the body style of his beloved Gibson SG, the first patented compass and a motorcycle. What you were most nervous about, though, was an additional patent you placed in the bottom right corner. One that memorialized something significant in your life. One that you placed there as a reminder of you.

Jake and your dads inspected the instrument cases while you moms made a beeline to the window and chairs, all with a look of awe on their faces. Ronnie smiled as she moved towards the wall of patents, placing her hands on her hips in satisfaction. She had been a huge help in finding the right person to make the frames, and this week she had spent most of her time visiting helping you get the room ready for its reveal. You knew that seeing the room complete and her brother experiencing it for the first time was a proud moment for her, too.

You stayed back and observed from your place leaned against the door frame. As you watched Jake flit around the room taking in his new space, your heart felt heavy in your chest. You loved him with every fiber of your being, and you spent so much time meticulously decorating his office to create a space he would love. But you couldn’t shake the way he had treated you earlier in the day. 

When Jake came to stand in front of your patent wall, he seemed enamored. His eyes floated across each drawing, studying each a little more than the last. When he came to the last patent, he reached out to touch the frame, huffing a small breath of air before he turned to look at you. 

“If you don’t like any of them, we can find something else to put in the frames. That last one was more for me so if you don’t want it in here…” you trailed off, biting the inside of your cheek as you ducked your head towards your hands. 

“Baby…” you saw his tattered boots come into view before you felt his hands grasp the sides of your face to gently coerce your eyes to meet his. “This office…wow. It’s better than I could have even imagined. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered so only he could hear. 

Jake only smiled and gave you a soft peck on the lips before engulfing you in his arms. It was the first time that day his lips had met yours, and you finally got a glimpse of the man you knew and so desperately craved.

Your moment was short lived, however, and soon the office was filled with the curious ruckus of his brothers and friends. Another first of the day was the genuine appreciation the rest of his group showed you in that moment. 

But all parties come to an end. Both sets of your parents left to their hotel rooms, and the band and their friends hadn’t left the office since discovering its wonders. You had heard a collection of instruments and singing all evening, and you smiled to yourself thinking about how much fun they have playing together, even after a months-long tour. 

Before cleaning up the kitchen, you decided to make your way to the office. You saddled up to Ronnie and threw your arms around her shoulders to thank her for all her help this week. You truly couldn’t have had it all finished in time if it wasn’t for her. 

As you looked over Ronnie’s shoulder, your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. Jake sat in one of his leather chairs, guitar held lazily in his lap, and sitting on the arm of his chair with her arm resting on the back of the chair behind Jake’s head was his ex, Hailey. She had her head thrown back, laughing at something someone had said, and Jake’s face was full of amusement as he watched her. Maybe it was innocent, maybe it wasn’t, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out. As Ronnie turned around to figure out what had you so taken aback, you fled the room. 

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

--

When you made it to your shared bedroom, all you could do was collapse at the foot of the bed in a pile of tears. You knew the short moment your shared in the office was too good to be true. He must have been putting on a show for your parents, you thought. How else could he go right back to freezing you out?

At least you had a bag packed. You wiped at your eyes and cleared your vision enough to pick your bag up from where Ronnie had placed it earlier in the evening. When you turned towards the door to leave, Ronnie was barging through with Jake hot on her heels. 

“Do you want to know why my brother was being a giant prick to you all day? He thought you were cheating on him!”

“Ronnie, what the fuck? I told you it was my place to tell her, not yours!”

“Shut up, Jake. He thought you were cheating on him with your coworker, you know, the one that helped us hang up all those frames for his office?” Ronnie dismissed her brother by stepping in front of him and closer to you. 

“God, do you ever know when to shut u—”

“Is that true?” you cut him off, newfound tears welling up in your eyes. 

“I—baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you, I just saw that video and immediately made assumptions an—” Jake tried to rush all of his words out, but Ronnie interrupted him once again.

“All from a Ring video that doesn’t even show who he was kissing! If you would have just asked you would have known it was his wife who was also helping decorate your nice little office!”

“Okay, Ronnie, that’s enough.” Ronnie threw up her hands in exasperation at her brother and stomped out of the room.

Your head was reeling, honestly. It was coming back to you, the day you had asked your coworker’s interior-designer wife to help find the right pieces for the office. She had recruited your coworker, Jared, to help hang the patent frames a few days before Jake had made it back home, and when he rang the doorbell that day you had sent his wife to greet him. 

“Why didn’t you confront me with this, Jake?”

“I’m so sorry. I just—I jumped to conclusions without asking you. I am such an idiot.” Jake ran a hand through his hair and sat at the foot of the bed. “I should have asked you about it first.”

You shook your head in disbelief, crossing your arms as you moved to stand in front of him. “I can’t believe you didn’t trust me enough. Every time I see a picture or a video of someone who looks like you with another woman or an old picture with an old girlfriend, you know what the first thing I think of is? I think, it must be an old picture, or it must be someone else. You know why? Because I trust you, Jake. I trust that you wouldn’t jeopardize our relationship like that because you love me too much and I couldn’t fathom a life without you.”

You could practically see the tension rise in Jake’s hunched shoulders as he roughly rubbed his face with his hands. Still, you continued. 

“And you were so awful to me today. In fact, everyone except your sister and our parents ignored me most of the day, so I assume they thought I was a cheater. I was so excited to see you, to celebrate you, to show you the house in person. But I didn’t get to do that.” You wiped your nose harshly as you openly cried while ranting. “And don’t even get me started with your ex being here. That was so hurtful, Jake.”

Jake remained quiet for a moment, but he eventually looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes. “I know. I’ve made a lot of mistakes today, and if I could go back and change it I would. I am so sorry, Y/N. I just…it’s not an excuse at all, but sometimes I think you might want someone more available, and when I saw that video I just let my insecurities convince me.” 

He was looking away from you now, roughly wiping at his face with the side of his palm. You knew he hated crying, and even more so in front of people, but you only had a little sympathy for him left. 

“I just…I’m sorry. I love you so goddamn much and that scares me. I should have never thought any less than you, especially when all you think is the world of me. I mean, shit, look at my fucking office. You got everything perfectly matched to me, and I thought you were cheating on me. How fucking ridiculous of me.”

“Babe…” you whispered, gently placing a hand under his chin to pull his face back towards you. “I love you, too. But this cannot happen again. There’s no reason to not trust each other or to not communicate things that trouble us.”

Jake slowly moved to stand, taking your face in his hands and wiping away tear tracks with his thumbs. “I know, and I promise I won’t jump to any more conclusions without talking it out with you. You’re my partner, and our relationship is a two-person job.”

You turned your face to kiss the inside of one of his wrists. “Thank you for apologizing. I just think I need some space tonight, if that’s okay.”

Jake sadly smiled and nodded his head. “Of course it’s okay, baby. I’ll go bunk with Josh like the old days. Just promise you’ll unpack that bag eventually?”

“I promise,” you assured him, giving him a soft peck on the lips. 

As much as you loved him, and as determined as you were to work at a healthy relationship with him, you needed some time to process the events of the day. So when Ronnie showed up in your doorway after Jake made his way down the hall with a bottle of wine in her hand, you had an impromptu sleepover filled with ranting about her brother and watching comfort rom-coms. 

--

The next morning you awoke to the smell of breakfast and the sound of running water, and Ronnie was nowhere to be found. When you made your way to the kitchen, you smiled in amusement. Jake and Sam both adorned aprons and were arguing over the appropriate amount of yolk “runnage,” and Josh and Danny were tackling the dishes from the party before. Ronnie, looking ever relaxed with her feet propped up on the kitchen table, smiled as she noticed your figure in the doorway. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Isn’t this a great sight, men being right where they belong—in the kitchen?”

You chuckled at Ronnie’s candor and wrapped your arms around Jake’s waist and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Good morning, baby,” you murmured.

“Good morning, sunshine. It’s a new day, isn’t it?” Jake turned his head to place a kiss to your forehead. 

“It really is,” you smiled. 

#Jake kiszka #Jake gvf #Jake kiszka fic #Jake kiszka fanfic #Jake kiszka angst #josh kiszka #Jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet

[masterwords]

a life spills into the flowers

Summary: After the events of "Mr. Scratch", Hotch can't find his keys. It's got him a little messed up.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (established, and it's only relevant at the very end because I live in a world where they're just together and that's that.)

Warnings: mind-controlling substances, panic, vomit, swearing, canon-typical stuff...if you've seen the Mr. Scratch episode you won't be surprised

Words: 2.5k

Notes: I don't know...I was going to save this for Whumptober or something but it's rambly and I sort of just wanted to post it now. I started thinking about how Peter Lewis took Hotch's weapons and he took his vest off, and Hotch was in that house for a long time semi-conscious...so of course his car keys would be missing and that might make him panic a bit. Anyway, I wrote this all in about an hour, it's just a rambly thing because I can't seem to write anything decent lately but I needed to do something with this idea.

Read on AO3: a life spills into the flowers

**

On knees that wobble like jello he wanders toward the house. Wind is whipping through the trees, whistling strange hymns through well-maintained gutters and over the silken petals of bright pink roses. He is acutely aware of each breath of wind as it gusts over his sweaty brow, each fleck of red and blue light that flickers and screams silent fury into the night sky.

“I need to find my keys,” he mumbles to JJ who is following, hasn't stopped following him since he stepped out of the ambulance with a headache that pounds like a jackhammer with each throb of his pulse. She's right on his heels.

“We can have it towed, Hotch, figure it out in the morning. You need to get home.”

He won't listen, though. Everything is so out of control, the entire scene his fault, and the only thing he can grasp with any firmness is this: his SUV keys are missing. On the front seat, all of his papers have been rifled through, his wallet is right there with his ID front and center, and he's in no frame of mind to take inventory though he's fairly certain nothing is missing. Peter Lewis wouldn't take anything, he would simply record it. Write it down, take a photo, doesn't matter. If he took it, they would know and have a lead, have an idea. This way...there is no way to track what isn't gone.

Except his damn keys. “Maybe Peter Lewis had them,” she says, speeding up to keep pace with his wobbly off-kilter stumbling through the yard and up to the front door. “Hotch, I'll call Derek and see if they find your keys on Lewis when they book him.”

He doesn't respond and she doesn't wait for it, she just makes the call while he enters the house. It's almost the same now as it was when he did it the first time, except he's not holding his gun now, his fists hang at his sides useless and trembling. Reid and Rossi have already gone back to Quantico, Morgan went with the Police as they took Lewis into custody, and JJ...well she said she'd drive Hotch home, but now they're stuck with no keys to the SUV. She's not nearly as concerned as he is.

“Hotch,” she called a minute later while he's arguing with an officer about looking under Dr. Regan's desk. That's where his gun had been, one of them anyway, after the fight and he suspects maybe the keys...

“Hotch, Will said he'd come pick us up. Come on. Let the officers do their jobs. They'll find the keys.”

His eyes are frantic and filled with tears, she can't stand seeing him this way. There is some part of her that wants to pull him in for a hug, tell him she'll help him find the keys because she knows...it isn't really about the keys. He's coming down from whatever drugs he was pumped full of and every bit of reality that seeps in brings more pain and more questions than answers. He was vulnerable for hours, at the mercy of a psychopath, and he has no real memory of it. She can see it all in the tears, but if she gives in now she might do more harm than good. “Come on,” she said, touching his forearm, his sweaty bloody shirt. “Let's go sit outside and wait for Will.”

It's going to be an hour, at least. Even if Will puts on his lights. “You want to walk?” It's a silly question to ask a man who looks like he's barely standing, but he doesn't look like he wants to sit down either. “There's a path through the estate over here. Guess this place has a nice rose garden.” He doesn't answer, he just follows her.

The roses almost glow under the moonlight. He knows they're pink, but they're more than that. They're breathing pulpy red and they're crying neon blue and they're bruise purple, all the same colors as he is. And then those deep green leaves cascade black like pools of blood in the moonlight. He can't stop thinking about his keys. No matter what path his mind tries to take him down it never winds far enough away from that one thought. Where are my keys? The keys mean freedom, they mean home. Without them he's trapped here.

JJ knows she should use this opportunity to ask him questions and she has the time. It feels wrong, the way his skin is pale and gray and sweaty, the way his hands shake, to put him through more but he would insist if it were anyone else. Insist that now was the time. When clarity was seeping in, when adrenaline was fading. “I know you talked to Rossi in the ambulance,” she started, pausing to peer into a wide open rose. “Is there anything else you can remember? Do you want to talk?”

“No,” he whispered back, his legs coming to a full stop. He blinks back the tears and rubs his fingers against his burning eyes. Whatever Lewis sprayed him with made his eyes hurt, they were dry and burned like fire beneath salty tears. “I don't know. JJ, I don't know if anything I say is true.”

“Let me figure that out. Why don't you just tell me things. Anything you want. Empty it out.”

He lets out a chuckle and wipes more tears from his lashes. “It's funny. The way they described it in the interrogation room...it sounded like Lewis put the ideas in their heads. But that isn't...it's not...they were all my ideas. I think he just asked me questions knowing I couldn't lie to him.”

She couldn't hide her frown. “What do you mean he asked you things?”

“Like,” he stares vaguely into some distance but he isn't looking at anything she can see. His trembling hand reaches up and wipes the sweat from his forehead. “A therapist. He asked me about my life. He asked me if anything...” he can't finish the sentence. He can't tell JJ about Roy, but that's new, he couldn't remember that when he was talking to Rossi. Lewis asked him about recent problems he's been having. “Any problems at home?” It was so casual, like he had a right to know.

He told Lewis all about Roy and his dementia. He told him about the things that Roy said, and suddenly Roy was standing there in front of him with a gun aimed at his forehead. You took my baby girl from me. I gave her to you, and you promised to protect her and you lied. Roy's gun was cold against his forehead, smashed there, he could feel it. You killed her.

“He didn't make me see things. I did that. He just listened.” The revelation comes with wide eyes sparkling in the night. “He guided me through the images.” Before he can say anything else, he feels the cold of that gun again and drops to his knees, dry heaving painfully into the perfectly manicured grass. JJ stays back, she wants to touch him, to comfort him, but he's trembling like a scared animal and she isn't sure she can trust him yet.

He's not himself.

“Can you tell me what you told him?”

“No.” He can, but he won't. “It doesn't matter. He's in custody,” he gasps around wretches and pulls himself up to sitting, hands planted flat against his thighs. “I didn't hurt anyone. His plan didn't work.” He's not so sure about that, but he needs JJ to believe it. He needs her to stop asking questions. You don't know what I did to him...I win. She can't let that go, can't stop thinking about it. It was what made her stay behind with him, why Derek asked that it be her...they didn't want to tell anyone else what Lewis said or how it had scared them.

He thinks about Roy and the gun, about what Roy said to him over pizza just nights before and what the ghost of Roy told him with a gun to his head. Roy's eyes, so full of fury and hate, and he's not surprised to find that he wishes it hadn't just been a mirage. If that gun had been real, if Roy had the nerve to do what he wanted to do...

Derek walks up behind them and places his hand on Hotch's back, right between his shoulder blades, startling them both. “Hey,” he says, crouching. “Found your keys. They were in the bag with his personal belongings. Swears he has no idea how they got there. Dude's a lying sack of shit. You ready to get outta here?”

JJ looks at Derek warily and makes a face, a sort of back off he's being a little weird face, and Derek drags his hand up and down the ridges of Hotch's spine in defiance. He's not worried, he's pretty sure he could take Hotch in his prime and this is definitely not his prime. “Jessica said she'd stay with Jack tonight, Will just pulled up to get JJ...come on. You're stuck with me.”

They ride home in silence. It's a long ride with only the purr of the engine and the roar of the tires turning over slick rainy asphalt. Hotch rests his temple against the cool glass window, lets his eyes close and sees Roy who becomes Sean in a faded blue jumper blaming him for not getting him out of his charges, getting his sentence reduced. I'll die in here and it'll be your fault, Sean said to him and it freezes his veins to ice. My best years behind bars because you care more about your job than my life. My brother's a FED, you know what they're gonna do to me? Sean wouldn't say that, it's only his guilty conscience, he knows that. Probably why that one faded so quickly, even Peter Lewis could see through it. But Roy, that one stuck. That one came back, and when Roy became Jack but the words were the same...you killed her, it's your fault she's dead...he figured it out. That was when he realized how in control of these visions he was, even under the influence. He'd allowed Roy, but he wouldn't allow Jack to be part of the game.

“I forced myself to see you guys,” he whispers, his lips barely moving. His stomach flops, and he thinks he's going to be sick again. “When I realized what he was doing. I knew what he wanted...and I thought about the victim who killed himself instead of his child...and I...” Made myself see you guys? See you all be killed one by one? It sounds awful, and he's not sure how to say it so that it sounds any less terrible than it is. But he watched that bullet sink right into Derek's throat, tasted his blood, he saw it all and couldn't shake it.

“I knew it,” came Derek's reply, one hand fluttering like raven wings away from the steering wheel and coming to roost on Hotch's thigh. “I knew you figured it out. Rossi's story, it didn't make any sense. Why would us dying be your worst fear? Your deepest fear? Nah, I knew there was more to it...”

“I am afraid of that,” Hotch counters, quieter, almost too quiet for Derek to hear over the white noise of the car. Defensive and breathy. Still hovering so close to tears. “I'm always afraid that I'll make a mistake and it'll cost one of you your lives. It wouldn't be the first time. Roy said it himself. I make a mistake, people die. It was an easy fear to conjure...”

“Yeah, but,” Derek starts, but he's well aware that he's treading in dangerous waters and he stops. He squeezes Hotch's thigh instead. “I get it.” He does. He does get it, he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to Haley. It was on his watch, not Hotch's, no matter what anyone tries to tell him. They don't talk about it.

Derek's street is dark, the lamps pale and muddled by overgrown oak trees. It's quiet, serene, none of the city sounds dare step into this peace. The shadows melt and move and shift beneath his feet and Hotch is mesmerized as his shadow slides like oil slick into the shadow of a tree and for a brief moment they are one. “You hungry?” Derek asks in a casual tone, as if this is a social call. As if it's date night. “I'm starving.”

He's not sure if he's hungry or if he could eat, he just follows Derek up the steps to his door and slides inside with uneasy steps. Clooney meets them at the door and Hotch crouches right away, just drops to his knees and wraps his arms around Clooney's neck and scratches behind his floppy old dog ears. There are tears in Clooney's fur, it sticks to his cheeks. Clooney moves slow these days, he's old and arthritic but he still likes to trot along beside Derek every morning before they eat breakfast, he still makes sure to greet Derek every time he comes home with his tail whacking the wood floor loud and thumpy. Hotch and Clooney's relationship is something Derek hasn't ever really understood but he leaves them to it and heads right for the kitchen. They know what they're doing. So does he.

He needs a beer and some food. When he's finished slapping together a quick sandwich and popping the top off of his second bottle of beer (the first went down a little too easy after the day he had), he makes his way out to the front room to find Hotch and Clooney sleeping on the couch. Hotch, still in his clothes, arms folded tight across his chest and hands tucked in tight. His feet still in shoes hang off the end of the couch (always polite), and Clooney snores curled up behind his knees.

It's a sight. One he's still not tired of, even after all this time.

He turns on the TV and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, eating his midnight dinner all alone to the quiet jokes and explosions of M*A*S*H

“Life, liberty and the pursuit of happy hour...” Derek says under his breath, raising his bottle to the television. He knows the quiet of this moment isn't likely to last, but the frosty foam of the beer in his bottle is worth savoring.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau #criminal minds #hotchgan #criminal minds fanfiction #clooney the dog #is clooney hotch's therapy dog? yeah maybe

[thessalian]

Thess vs An Unfortunate Tuesday

There are no words for how fed up I am with today.

Started poorly in that “I woke up too early and couldn’t get back to sleep” way, but I thought, hey, I can check the bus routes and go pick up some mallet meds before I start work, since I am currently out. Except that according to the route finder on my phone, all the nearest bus stops are shut. I found out why when I went out to the corner shop - I’d forgotten they were resurfacing one of the main roads in the area. So every bus in my area that doesn’t require climbing a massive hill is diverted away for basically the whole week, and trying to cross said road is an absolute nightmare because, again, resurfacing the entire road.

(Though I have to say, while I can get away with forgetting about the signs that have been all over the place for a month talking about it because I don’t even drive or live on that road at all, I don’t understand the people who actually park their cars there. One of the things that was going on when I went to find a place to cross the road was somebody’s car getting towed. Oopsie.)

So, yeah, it’s going to be a hellish walk however I do it because such hill, and also raining. I swear, since I’m not crossing the entirety of London, I’m about half-tempted to get a taxi. Okay, more than half-tempted to get a taxi. We’ll see after my grocery order arrives, since I have to be here to pick it up. Might end up having to take a taxi anyway to get to any pharmacy that’s open. Not a problem if I go to a supermarket pharmacy counter; I kind of wanted to go to the big Tesco anyway because they have a better range of gluten-free stuff and there are some things I missed on the big shop.

Anyway, then there was the work itself, which was its usual blend of manageable and really fucking annoying. First thing I got was "Hey, send all these reports to this person, please; the hospital numbers probably won’t be right so use the NHS numbers”. Some of them weren’t registered under NHS numbers either so I had to go by names and wanted to kick the individuals responsible for not providing dates of birth. At least none of the names I was looking for were particularly common. Anyway, point is that there were a lot of names on that list and only about two-thirds of them actually had reports on the system anywhere, so I sent what I had with an apology and effectively, “There’s this one we have no record of at all from January and the rest of them only underwent surgery on Friday so their reports might not have gone through the system yet”. The email I got back was, “Oh, yeah, I guess if you only got the samples yesterday afternoon we can’t expect an authorised report; and that other guy in January was a no-show so you won’t have his reports because there aren’t any”.

THEN WHY WAS HE ON THE LIST?!?

Anyway, after that, my laptop demanded rebooting twice in quick succession, but in between times I found that Temp was playing her usual game of leaving all the long bullshit to me. She was really blatant about it today, too. I mean, fuck’s sake. So I got a significant portion of the long and aggravating bullshit. I don’t know who got the rest but I had a look and it was not her. I swear, I’m going to have to ask Scruffman to really take a look at what she’s doing because none of this is fair, to any of us that do any typing.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, my Stuff What I Ordered arrived. So I have a new egg slicer (tougher than the last one, thank the gods), a proper salt shaker, two new window boxes, and a bunch of seeds. Hey, @fauxfire76 - I’m planting petunias! I mean, also cornflower and hollyhock and zinnia and forget-me-not and a bunch of other bee-friendly flowers, but you know. Also need to start the basil, coriander, tomatoes and probably the dill (I know I’ve still got the rescue dill but I cannot have too much dill; it is impossible). And obviously the soil to make the planting happen. I am alternately amused and bewildered at the fact that I quasi-regularly buy dirt.

So, yeah, today’s been unfortunate on a number of levels and it’s not even really over yet. Hence the wanting to go to the big Tesco for some gluten-free treat or other.

#Thess has a day job #Thess on gardening

[vivaamor]

care about me

warnings: swearing, catcalling, marijuana use, very minimal violence but it's there, edgy!y/n, golden retriever steve

relationships: steve harrington/ female reader

summary: opposites attract, don't they?

opposites attract. that's the old saying, isn't it? never in a million years did you ever think you'd be friends with steve and shortly after that, friends with his clan of fifteen year olds. eddie munson? made sense. steve harrington? not really.

you didn't mean to become friends with steve, you didn't mean to be his friend, to get to know him as you do today. it just happened.

hawkins, indiana wasn't known for having a wild night life, but it was known for having middle and high schoolers crawling the streets once school was let out. you usually liked to stay home, be by yourself and smoke. today was different, you had to run to the store to get groceries for your apartment. you only lived two blocks from the nearest store, so you walked.

around five o' clock with two bags of groceries in hand, you walk out of the store and toward your apartment complex, walking past twenty five-seven, the only bar in town.

"hey, lady!" a man's voice calls after you, whistling. you keep your head down and continue walking. "gonna ignore me, huh, sweet thing? you are a sight, aren't ya?" you can hear loud footsteps traveling toward you, so you pick up your pace. "don't run away from me now, babe." he goes to reach for your arm when something stops him.

you turn around and your eyes meet none other than steve harrington. or king steve, as people referred to him as in high school. "dude, come on. leave her alone, fuck off." the man scoffs, walking away from you two, and that's when steve turns to you. "you alright, there?"

"fine." you cross your arms over your chest, "i can take care of myself, didn't have to do that."

he chuckles, "i know. makes me look tough, secure in my masculinity." he jokes, moving his hair out of his face. "i'm steve."

"thanks, i guess," you quirk an eyebrow, "i know. we went to high school together. class of '85."

his finger waves in the air, pointing at you. "oh, right! y/n. sorry. barely recognized you. been a while." you shrugged your shoulders. you'd never even talked before more than a head nod when he said hello to you once in the hallway. "getting groceries?"

"looks like it. i live one block down. what are you doing here?"

he scratches the back of his neck, "uh, car broke down at the arcade when i was dropping my friend off. already towed, just waiting for robin-- robin buckley to come pick me up. but looks like i'm gonna be waiting for a while." he looks expectingly at you.

"is this your way of asking for a ride?"

he grins, "maybe. since you know, i saved your life and all."

sighing, you nod. "right this way, harrington."

and it was then that he asked for your phone number, claiming how he needed more friends. you talked about eddie munson, a mutual friend of yours, although you only met eddie in high school during junior year when you bought from him. you didn't know how the two of you could possibly have anything in common, you were polar opposites. even your appearances was like comparing the north and south pole.

steve always wore a polo with jeans or maybe a yellow sweater every now and then and you could tell he spent time on his precious hair. you, however, looked like a background character from the adams family-- fishnets always being a key accessory for you, usually along with a black skirt or ripped jeans and combat boots.

but he liked you, he liked being around you, asking for your opinions on things. you didn't try to fit in or change what you thought to fit his ideas and opinions. you were just purely you. and you didn't care what people thought. he needed that in his life.

it was with you he smoked his first joint, about two months into hanging out. and it was you that he only would smoke with. you didn't use substances to party or black out, you used them to feel calm and chill, to hang out.

he nearly coughed up a lung when taking too long of a drag, the joint between his fingers as he passed it to you. "and that is why metallica is not the greatest band to ever exist. i mean, come on, the beatles? hey jude is a classic, y/n. a classic!"

you rolled your eyes, exhaling the smoke from your lungs, your lips parted slightly. "your taste in music is astounding, harrington. astounding."

"oh, cut it out. you love me." you gave him a look. "alright, you care about me at least." he huffs, "you don't even care about me? alright, then tell me why you share your weed with me? never ask for money."

"you're a newbie, it's humorous watching you nearly puke when you take too much." you lied-- he wasn't wrong, you did care about him and maybe, just maybe, love him.

but steve knew he did. he came over all the time, and when you were out of town, he always offered to watch your cat. he adored you, everything about you. he noticed how you almost never smiled, but when you did, it was the slightest curve at either end of your lips. it was almost unnoticeable, but he noticed. he always noticed. he liked how you almost never wore makeup except for a dark shade of lip stick, and how you couldn't be bothered to do anything to your hair; you always wore it in a bun or let it fall messily and frame your face. you were always honest and when he asked for your opinion, you were brutal. your fingernails were always covered in a dark shade of blue, your fingers littered in silver rings. he truly noticed everything about you and there wasn't a single thing he would change.

you acted as if you couldn't be bothered to even look at him, nevertheless care about him. you never admitted to enjoying his presence before, yet he knew you did. that was because you wouldn't put up with him if you didn't. you wouldn't drop off coffee to him at family video if he had a long day if you didn't (accompanying the coffee with the excuse they had to remake it because they made it wrong, so here). you weren't one to blurt out your feelings or constantly reassure him that you loved him to death, but you showed it.

and sometimes when he would tell you he knew, it would hurt his feelings when you didn't agree with him because steve was upfront about how he felt. he always told you if he liked your hair a certain way or if he liked your t-shirt or if you had gotten a new ring. he wore his heart on his sleeve, always telling you to drive safe and let me know when you get home. see you later, love you!

"what are you doing right now?" he'd asked when you answered his phone call, wanting to see you and hang out.

"going to the store, need to get stuff for dinner tonight." you explained, taking your purse off the kitchen counter and balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear. "can't hang, sorry."

he grinned, "i'm coming with, i'm bored. be there in ten." he pulled up to your apartment and walked beside you to the store, chatting your ear off the whole trip inside hawkins' grocery and more on your way back to your place, insisting he'd help you make dinner.

"hey, kid!" a familiar voice filled your ears, the same man who'd cat called you months ago, the first time you met steve. "that's the kid who talked shit to me a while ago." he told his friend in a leather jacket, a beer in hand. "not so tough now, are we? now that i'm not outnumbered." him and his friend approached you, grabbing steve by his arm.

"get the fuck off me, man." steve pushed him off, his eyes widening when he saw his friend. they pushed him around until you dropped your groceries. you hooked back your arm, your fist colliding with his cheek, causing him to let go of steve and stumble back a few steps.

you walked up to the two men. "get the fuck out of my face before i call my dad." you threatened, "who by the way works for the county sheriff. or maybe i can call my friend, jo. you know jo lodie, don't ya? gang member, right? maybe he can come and tell you personally to leave me the fuck alone."

"yeah, whatever, lady." the guys wandered back off and you go to grab your groceries off the ground when steve grabs it. steve's eyes are wide, telling you that was fucking awesome, y/n, holy shit! you smirked to yourself, unlocking the front door to your apartment. he said it again once you sat down for dinner, having made mac and cheese.

"steve?" he looked up from his place at the table, sitting next to you. you sighed to yourself and leaned in, cupping his cheek in your hand, your painted fingernail ghosting over his skin. "you're right. i care about you."

"i fucking knew-" you shut him up with a gentle kiss, cutting off his sentence. his arm hooks around you, resting his palm on your lower back. you pull away slowly and he has the cheesiest smile on his face. "i knew it." you can't help but laugh and he wants to roll around in the sound of it.

"eat your dinner." you chuckle, shaking your head.

opposite do attract, don't they?

#steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #oneshots #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #steve stranger things #steve x reader

[bishiglomper]

Bad daaaaay

We were supposed to have our friends over for dinner tonight. Which was stressing me out because sissy only decided yesterday; and after being gone all day and using all them spoons i couldn't clean up too. I function the best in the evening, not during the day. But mom and sissy said theyd clean for me. And last night i tried to pick up what I could.

Sister kept yelling at me about it. 🙄 sorry but i have to do it now. She yelled at me because " i would borrow spoons from the next day" but i knew i wouldn't function anyway so I might as well if I hadnt already.

Last night i woke up to spell of low blood sugar. I dragged myself downstairs for a snack. My stomach was in so much pain for some reason. A few hours later bad things happened. Several times. Just a terrible night. And I woke up to more blood sugar trouble. And i have a cramp in one side of my head and tinitus in the other. Ugh.

My sister apparently isnt having a good time either. Bro woke me up to see of he could convince or bribe me into helping make sure his son woke up and did his class...

My niece traded in her car for an even shittier piece of shit that literally fell apart after dinner last night. So my sister is worried about that and just spent the last 5 hours waiting for a tow for it through roadside assistance who had shitty dropped communication issues. Shes trying to help resolve the car problem but the niece is giving her attitude on top of everything. Even her dad is offerring to throw money at it.

The rat died last night. She's sad and upset about that. Nephew had a class today but she was in a bad mood and didnt want to cause problems so she let him sleep.

Like. I appreciate bro is trying to be a good daddy and make sure his son gets to class but I cant help there. I cant take charge of school things. And if i had asked my sister how i could help she would have just denied any.

Mom seems to be physically okay but the request that we pick up has her anxious. Shes been working.

On top of all our issues I think it was an unspoken agreement that sissy wasnt feeling up to being host. I'm not feeling it either.

Then i see that our friend messaged, saying they had a shitty night too and its a bad health day, they'll have to try again some other time. Mom was pissed because of the back and forth shit that happened last time so she decided shes just "done" with them.

Like listen here, bish; you and i back out of shit all the time. I mean mom has literally thrown herself down the stairs to get out of shit, the bitch is that dramatic. I have bailed from so many things due to health. School, club, DnD.. Like just stop, mom.

You'd think it was a flippin' monday or something I swear.

#just whining

[slafkovskys]

Patrick Moynihan, surprising him at providence, please Jess he is so underrated but he shouldn’t be

“he doesn’t know anything, right?” you ask as you slide into the passenger seat of parker’s car. you look at the boy nervously as he clicks his seatbelt, “like, you swear that you didn’t let it slip when you were out last night or anything?”

“y/n, i mean this in the nicest way possible because pat is one of my best friends,” he sighs as he pulls away from the terminal, “the kid barely knows his left from his right when he’s sober. you know it, i know it. great guy, a great hockey player, just a couple of screws loose. probably coulda told him you were coming and he would have forgotten about it in five minutes. well…”

your eyes widen at his pause and you shove his shoulder, “parker!”

“all i was going to say was that you’re his favorite subject. ‘y/n this. y/n that.’ no need for the roughhousing,” he maneuvers onto the interstate and starts toward their house. “i shouldn’t even offer since you’re being incredibly rude even though i woke up extra early to pick you up at the airport-”

“when i asked about coming down you said, and i quote, ‘i have an early class on tuesdays, i can pick you up. it’s not big deal.’”

he takes a deep breath before responding, “shut up. do you want breakfast or not?”

“no, i’ll make pat take me somewhere,” you look out the window as the morning traffic passes by, “but thank you for offering.”

“you are a demanding little thing, aren’t you?” he mumbles under his breath, probably not expecting a response but you hum anyway as you lean back in the seat. the rest of the drive back to their house is spent in relative silence besides whatever music was coming through the speakers and when that silence was broken, it was mostly him complaining when you skipped a song. “welcome to our lovely abode.”

“i’m here, like, at least two weekends a month, park,” you remind him as you pull your duffel bag out of the backseat and rest the strap on your shoulder. you grab the handle of your suitcase and tug on it too, stumbling a little as it hits the ground, “bare minimum. thanks for the help.”

“least i can do for that shoulder shove and skipping my favorite song. call a truce?” he holds out his hand to which you send a concerned look before shaking. he takes your luggage and walks you into the house, nodding at craig who’s in the kitchen. you send him a wave, “well, it’s been fun, but i’ve got an exam to fail.”

“raise hell later?” you quirk an eyebrow and he grins, nodding his head before retreating out of the door with craig in tow. you move your stuff out of the way before going down the hall towards pat’s room. you twist the knob and poke your head in to find him lying in the middle of his bed, unsurprisingly still asleep.

you close the door carefully behind you, tiptoeing across the floor and making a mental note to make him tidy up before you leave. you let your weight fall gently onto the bed, trying not to disturb him until you place your hand on his back. you trace letters and shapes along the bare skin gently, knowing from experience that it was an easy way to wake him. after a minute, he grunts, “not funny, ford. get the fuck out of my room.”

“i’m not parker,” you say and his body goes stiff. quicker than you’ve ever seen, his head whips around and he’s staring at you with wide eyes. you send him a shy smile, “good morning sunshine.”

he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before saying, “am i still dreaming? are you a mirage?”

“would you like me to pinch you?”

he holds out his forearm and you pinch the skin. he yanks his arm back and holds it to his chest, swearing rapidly, “not a dream, okay.”

“we’ve established that you aren’t dreaming, pat. now are you gonna kiss me or do i need to go find someone who will?” you send a teasing glance his way and he rolls his eyes before pinning you to the bed. “actually, wait, go brush your teeth first. morning breath.”

“you’re just gonna have to deal with it sweetheart,” he mumbles before pressing his lips to yours. it lasts for only a minute before he’s pulling away, a lopsided grin on his lips, “i missed you so fucking much.”

you raise an eyebrow, “and all i get is one kiss?”

“if i wasn’t hungover and still half asleep, i would give you more. just let me get my bearings, babe,” he promises, pressing his lips to yours once again before resting his head on the pillow. he pulls you close and leaves his hand on your hip, “how long are you here for?”

“until sunday,” you run a hand through his hair, “and don’t fall back asleep. you’re taking me to breakfast.”

“i just wanna lay here for a little while longer,” he mumbles as he buries his face in your neck. you giggle as his scruff tickles your skin and his arms tighten around your waist.

“how long is just a little while, pat?”

a beat of silence passes before he answers, “forever.”

taglist: @mattyybenierss @kniesy @pierrelucduboiis @ilovehockeyyyy @nickblankenburgg @ithinkilovehockey @brenbrissonsgf @harrysfishbowl @pucking-insane @blankyblanks @andrei-svech @ohpuckyeah @joelsfarabees @puckshitbitch

join my taglist here!

#patrick moynihan #concepts

[damn-stark]

Summertime magic

Topper x reader

Requested by @thatpremedicinestudent “Can you do a Topper x Reader where Topper gets jealous of the Reader being friends with JJ because he’s scared he’ll lose her to him like he did Sarah to John B? Thanks!!”

Warning- Talks of smoking and drinking, swearing, light angst, fluff

———-

It felt weird being on figure eight. The air you breathed was the same, the sun shone just as bright and burned just as hot, you were surrounded by the same ocean.

There were many differences, too many to name and not get mad at. But the biggest difference was the people. There were assholes on both sides, mainly on figure eight, but you’ve managed to find an exception that none of your friends agreed on.

“What’s considered as a Pogue emergency?” You ask JJ from the hammock. “Because the last time you said that, you were just out of weed.”

JJ smirks and looks to you from his hammock beside you to answer you. “That was an emergency. And if I remember correctly you smoked with me that same day. So it ended up working.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Just answer me because I ran out of my house thinking you were in trouble.”

“This,” JJ answers with a smug grin, “is a pogue emergency.” He lifts the empty pack of beer from the ground and shows it off to you before pointing at the both of you with his beer in hand. “And well can’t I miss a friend? You’re always off with Topper, we hardly see you anymore. You’ve abandoned us.”

“I have not.” You shake your head. “I just have a boyfriend to think about now and he lives on the other side of this Island.”

“Then leave him,” JJ says simply as he falls back on the hammock. “It’d be easier.”

You ignore his comment and put your empty can down. They all liked to make snarky comments about your relationships with Topper, the main one being JJ. You didn’t get mad at them, knowing how their relationship was with him and the rest of figure eight. And if it weren’t for the time you spent working at the same charity event with Topper, you’d be one the same page.

“Really y/n,” JJ says as he sits up, “what are we going to do about this.” He picks up the empty beer box and throws it to you. When you catch it, you just throw it back down.

“Go sober.” You remark with a faint smirk.

“Haha,” JJ feigns a laugh. “Hilarious.”

You grin and sit up as well. “We can go to my house. My dad has something we can drink there.”

——

“This is why we need you,” JJ praises you. “You always have great solutions.”

“Yeah,” you grin, “I know I’m great.” You throw the front door open and walk out of your house with JJ in tow, albeit as you walk out to your front porch you spot Topper driving in, and minutes later see him hopping out of his car with his eyes dead set on JJ right behind you.

“Oh,” JJ whispered while he brought the bottle to his lips, “well, I’m going to be inside.” He swings around and marches back inside your house leaving you to meet Topper half way.

“Hey—”

“I thought we were meeting up today at my house,” Topper cuts you off whilst his eyes flicker to you. “I’ve been calling you.”

“Yeah sorry my phone's dead,” you explain, “and well JJ wanted to hangout. I was going to call, sorry.” You try to grab his arm but he just takes a step back away from you while he lets out a frustrated deep breath. “You want to stay? We were just going to hangout by the beach.”

“No,” he deadpans, “I’ll just leave you two be.” His eyes drag up to your house where JJ was before he turns on his heels and begins to storm back to his car. You roll your eyes and follow after him, stopping him before he could close his car door.

“Don’t be like that,” you argue, “just stay. He won’t say anything.” You try to offer him an assuring smile, but he avoids looking at your face. “Topper, come on.”

“We’ll talk later.” He mutters in a serious and upset tone.

You part your lips to continue protesting against his leave, but he was too upset. Nothing good would come out in this situation with him as upset as he is, so you step back and let him go. After that though, you couldn’t really sit well with yourself knowing Topper had left upset. Yet you also didn’t like that he was upset because you were hanging out with your longtime friend. It was stupid that he got mad, he knew JJ and rest of your friends were your friends a long time before you became his friend, so you didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. He should understand.

Either way you couldn’t end your day upset.

‘Can I go over?’

After a few seconds that your message delivered, your phone went off.

Topper: I’m outside your window.

You smile and hop off your bed to rush to your window and throw the curtains open to see him standing outside. He notices the light shine out your window, and when he sees you he steps towards your window, but after you open it you block his path with a mischievous grin. “Oh, wow, you drove to The Cut at night? I’m touched you risked your life, pretty boy.” You joke as you lean forward and poke your head out your window. “Hi.”

“Are you going to let me in?”

You shrug. “Should I? You were being kind of a douche today.” You place your hands on the window sill and tilt your head. “Are you good to talk?”

Topper holds your gaze and nods, letting you step back and stand to the side to watch him climb in through your window. When he stands in the middle of your room you walk back and sit on the edge of your bed and wait for him to talk first. However it takes him a few minutes to do so.

“I’m sorry, I was being an asshole when I came over.” He began to explain with his eyes on the floor. “I was just annoyed that you didn’t come when you said you would, and you also didn’t answer your phone.”

“Hmm,” you hum whilst you nod and cross your arms over your chest. “What else?”

Topper shakes his head. “That’s all. I’m sorry.” He meets your gaze but you don’t give an assurance that you were fine with just half of an explanation. “What?” His eyes narrow on you.

“You were mad about something else,” you add, “you’re always bothered by JJ. It was obvious today. Why?”

“No reason,” he lies as he walks to sit beside you, noticing the picture of the both of you on your nightstand.

“Please, tell me, I can’t have you angry at me everytime I’m with friends. I mean,” you sigh. “I love and care about all of you. I won’t leave one to be with the other. I won’t choose. I just need you to know that. I need you to be okay with that.”

Topper nods and doesn’t hesitate to part his lips and speak what’s on his mind. “I understand, I just,” he pauses and just as he had made eye contact, he briefly looks away to gather the truth behind his anger. “…Don’t want to lose you. I love you.” He reveals while he meets your surprised gaze. “…And I’m scared to lose you. I mean you’ve known your friends for a long time, I just came into your life as a friend. That’s why I get bothered even when I shouldn’t.”

You stay speechless for a minute before you exhale deeply and cup his cheek first. “You have nothing to be scared about.” You offer him a small assuring smile and lean closer to him. “I love you. They’re just my friends, they’re like family. I wouldn't leave you.”

Topper wraps his hand around your wrist and his lips tugs to a small smile before he leans in and presses a gentle kiss on your lips. You cup his other cheek and pull him in for a deeper kiss that lasted a moment before he parted away, but remained close. “Promise?” He murmured to your lips.

“To every star in the sky.” You assure him sweetly while you caress his cheeks. “I promise.”

#outer banks #obx #topper obx #topper thornton #topper x reader #topper thornton imagine #topper imagine #topper imagines #topper fanfiction #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x y/n #topper thornton imagines #topper thornton fanfiction #JJ maybank #outer banks imagines #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction

[blissfulparker]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM8n4t2kW/

ik your requests are close but pls… im on my hands and knees kat, it’s either this or stalker!tom

We are lucky I’ve been wanting to write again…this will be the first thing in awhile. (although I’m changing it up a bit for winter)

“Shit.”

The words of your boyfriend make you look over as the car you two were in came to a slow stop. You had told Tom an hour ago to stop and get gas, get gas before you get too low yet he ignored you and now you two were in the middle of nowhere with stopped car.

“Tom…” you get ready to scold and he looks at you with wide eyes.

“It’s not what you think it is!” He defends as he doesn’t want to argue but he falls back into the seat with a sigh as your eyes burn into him. “Okay, it is what you think it is. But I thought we would make it!” He defends himself and you let your head fall back on the seat.

45 minutes until his parents cabin which was where you two were meant to spend his week off. Now you two were on the side of the road where your phone was dead but his wasn’t.

“What are you doing?” He stiffens as you reach into his pockets, swearing you saw the outline of his phone in there earlier. maybe it was his wallet but it was just something you swore was in his pockets and it made you wonder how can he drive comfortably like that?

“Getting your phone, mine died and we need to call for help.” You search around but there was nothing. He looks at you confused as you continue to move your hands around.

“My phone isn’t in my pocket?” He looks at the phone that was in the middle Consol that you clearly missed.

“Well then I’m looking for your wallet to beat you with it for being so stupid.” You half-joke and he furrows his brows again. His wallet was also in the middle consol.

“Darling, nothing is in my pocket.” He told you and you stop moving your hand looking at him confused.

“Then what was in your pockets earlier? You had something in your pocket! They were filled with something!” You argue with him. There is a faint smirk that appears on his face. One that you take a moment to pick up on before removing your hand quickly annoyed.

“Ugh! We’re in the middle of nowhere, wipe that smirk off your face. That’s disgusting.” You fall back into your seat.

“That’s not what you were saying last night, in fact, I think you were saying something like ‘Tommy it’s so big—‘“ his sentence breaks off with you smacking his arm.

“I hate you.” You fold your arms and Toms hand comes to your thigh, rubbing it reassuringly.

“No you don’t,” he picks up his phone and slides it open to call for a tow. “And you don’t have to say how big my dick is right now, the moment we get into that cabin I’ll hear all about it.” He puts the phone up to his ear before you can even say anything. Your mouth hangs open and Toms hand comes under your jaw to shut it for you as he speaks like a true gentleman on the phone to the tow company.

You knew he purposefully asked long questions that needed long answers just so he can tease you more. You have a pointed look in your eyes at him as he talks.

“Oh no, no need to rush because of the cold, I have a few things with me to keep me warm.” He looks over at you quickly and you huff. “Mmh, okay, thank you. Bye-bye.” He hangs up the phone.

“You’re a whore.” Was all you could think of to say in the moment after his little show.

“I wasn’t the one with my mouth wide open a few moments ago waiting for a dick to fill it.” He hummed as he kissed your cheek before getting into the backseat.

At first, you think to sit in the front to prove a point but your phone was dead, you had pleanty of time to waste and in a way tom was right on the phone. It was cold, you needed to keep warm.

“Mmh, that’s what I thought darling.” He hums and his hands slide around your waist as you slip into his lap in the back.

“I’m still mad at you for not listening to me.” You say and his lips come in contact with your neck. Placing soft kisses along the exposed skin. His hands work on undoing the jacket you wore so he can have more access.

“I know baby, I’m sorry.” He kissed over your collarbone and down your chest.

“And I hate that we won’t be there to the house on time, I hate that we’re stuck in the cold when a storm is meant to come.” You try and complain but the moment his mouth takes in your exposed nipple and you start to feel him poke your leg you’re all his. Melting into his touch, begging him silently for more.

You two found a few ways to keep warm, when he was sliding back on his joggers to answer the phone for the towing company you nearly got jealous. Other people could just see how big he is as he didn’t even try to hide it.

A smirk came to his face as he tossed you your top to snap you out of your gaze. He lowers the phone from his ear and kisses your cheek.

“It’s all yours darling, get those thoughts out of your pretty little head.” He says before speaking to the person on the line.

You hate how his words were right, the moment you got into that cabin you were praising him and begging him for more.

#kats blurbs #Tom Holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fan fic #Tom Holland fluff

[asirensrage]

Snowed In - Jax Teller x OC Oneshot

Title: Snowed In

Rating: T? Swearing, making out and Implied sex.

Fandom: Sons of Anarchy

Warnings: swearing. That's about it.

Summary: It's the last time she does Gemma a favour. Especially now that she's trapped with someone she can't stand.

Notes: This is my first time writing Jax lol. It got way out of hand tbh and it's longer than I planned. Once I started, it basically took over and did its own thing. I hope you all enjoy it. A huge shout out to @lokitrasho and @lovebarefootblonde for helping me out on this. I hope it turned out alright after the final edits. Thanks!

“Hate is a passion that is of equal interest to love. Like love, it is often seemingly irrational and can lead individual to heroic and evil deeds.” - Professor Zeki

She should have remembered that the universe hates her. Maybe if she did, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. It rarely did her any favours before so why would it start now? She doesn’t even really know how the hell this happened. The only thing she’s aware of right now is that she’s never doing Gemma another favour. This one bit her in the ass hard enough to leave a mark. She won’t let it happen again...if they make it out of this.

“When the fuck did California get snowstorms?”

She ignores the man on the other side of the room. She’s trying not to pace and snap back, asking if he’s ever heard of global warming. Or maybe if he even knows the state he lives in. California has mountains. They just happened to be too close and the weather decided to fuck up the plans on going home. Neither her car nor his bike would make it through this. She had already nearly skidded off the road. Jax had appeared, stopping to make sure she was still breathing and they both agreed that they needed to get off of the road. It didn’t mean either of them liked it.

“Yeah, fine.” She looks up to see him close the flip phone he was talking into. Jax pulls out a cigarette and lights it before he looks at her. “They’re sending a truck and tow once the weather clears.”

“Can you not smoke in here?” she asks, scrunching up her nose as the smell hits her.

“You want me to step out in that mess,” he points towards the window. “For the smell? Deal with it, princess.”

She rolls her eyes. Of course, he couldn’t be the slightest bit respectful of other people’s preferences. “It’s more about my preference to avoid lung cancer.” She can’t even open a window with the way the snow is blowing.

She turns away from him and heads for the kitchen of the small place. They got lucky there was a cabin near the road that they could shelter in. Though who the fuck lived out here, she didn’t know. It didn’t look that lived in. Hopefully, there’s something to eat.

“What were you doing out here anyway?”

She’s tempted to ignore him, especially considering he’s still smoking, but it would be better if they didn’t attempt to murder each other. Once Isabelle’s out of this place, she can go back to staying out of his way and vice versa.

“Your mom asked me for a favour. I was just picking something up for her.”

“Yeah? Thought you didn’t like us Tellers?”

“I don’t like you,” she looks back at him for a moment. “I have no problem with Gemma.” Also, Gemma scared the shit out of her half the time. That woman is the fiercest one she’s ever known…not that she’ll ever tell him that. He’ll probably take it as a compliment. She turns back to check the fridge..and closes it quickly, gagging. Nothing in there is edible.

She hears a low chuckle behind her and she clenches her teeth, trying to keep from reacting. She can be the bigger person in this. It’s just one night. She moves to the cupboards. Thankfully, by the third one she checks, she finds canned food. It’s not much but there’s soup. As long as the stove works, she’ll be good.

Isabelle turns the burner on and prays it works. It should. The lights work in this place after all. When it starts to heat up, she turns it off and begins a search for a pot.

“What are you making?”

“Food,” she says, ignoring him.

“You think you can be a bit clearer if you expect me to eat it?”

She turns to look at him. He’s leaning against the small wooden table that separates the kitchen from the rest of the room. “Do I look like your maid? I’m making something for me. You want food, cook it yourself.”

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawls out. “Wouldn’t trust you not to poison me.”

“And listen to your whining as you die? I’d be torturing myself.” Not to mention that any goodwill Gemma had towards her would fade instantly. She did not want to be on that woman’s shit list.

“Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, princess.”

She rolls her eyes at the endearment. It’s meant to be insulting but she’s heard it too often to have any effect. Her jaw drops though as she sees him stub out the cigarette on the table. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You really are a jackass.” She scoffs before turning back to find a can opener.

“You got something to say to me?”

“I got a lot of things, but I’ll save my breath.” She says as she opens another drawer. Whoever lived here had way too many utensils. Finding a can opener shouldn’t be this hard.

“No, no, we got nothing but time. Say it.”

She’s known the man for years and somehow he consistently knows how to push her buttons. She is trying to not react but it’s not working. She turns to look at him. “I called you a jackass,” she says. “You have no respect for anything you don’t deem yours as seen when you put out your smoke into someone else’s table.”

She can practically see the flash in his eyes as he absorbs what she says and she braces herself. They’ve argued before. She knows how this is going to go.

“I forgot, I’m in the presence of royalty,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s not like anyone’s been here in ages and judging from the state of the place, they won’t be back anytime soon.”

“That’s not the point,” she snaps.

“Then what is it, princess?”

“You don’t give a shit about anything that doesn’t impact you.”

He stands, straightening to his full height as he stares at her. “That what you think of me?”

“I know what I see.”

“You only see what you want,” he snaps back. He pulls out another cigarette and she can’t help but scoff at it.

“You just keep proving my point.”

He looks at her, face lit up by the lighter he’s using to burn the end of his smoke. He puts the lighter away before removing the cigarette and exhaling slowly. He points at her. “Keep thinking that, princess. You don’t know shit. You wanna be a bitch, Isabelle? That’s fine, be one, but don’t fucking think you know anything about me.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve grown up in the same fucking town. Hard not to know anything about you.”

“Fucking town gossip,” he says. “You think that’s the truth? That mean it’s true what they say about you?”

“That I’m gonna die alone? Absolutely,” she drawls, just because she knows it’ll piss him off to agree with him. She knows the rumours about her. It’s a small town. It’s hard not to. After a few failed first dates, she stopped dating. She has more important things to worry about. It’s never been anyone’s business but her own. “Should have left me on the side of the road,” she says. “Maybe it’d be sooner than later.” She doesn’t really know why she says it. She just wishes she was left alone right now and didn’t have to deal with this shit.

“Right,” he says, inhaling another drag of his smoke. “It’s my fault we’re here. Don’t even have the fucking nerve to say thank you.”

“For what? Being a dick?”

“For making sure you weren’t hurt!” he snaps. He stares at her for a moment before she looks away. She didn’t realize she hadn’t even said thanks.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Of course, you didn’t. It doesn’t fit into your view of me.”

“You’re free to leave,” she snaps, uncomfortable at the truth of his words. She’s been set in her opinion of him since high school.

“You think I want to be here?” He drops the cigarette and steps on it, twisting his foot to make sure it’s out. “You think I want to be stranded with-” He cuts himself off.

“With what?” she snarls. “Go on. Say it! With what?”

He doesn’t answer. He turns away from her, wiping a hand across his face.

They’ve been at each other’s throats since the day they met. She doesn’t really know why. He’s always just pissed her off. It has nothing to do with the club or whatever they do. She could care less about that. She knows you do what you have to to get by. That’s the way the world works.

It’s the fact that he walks around town like he owns it. Like they’re all completely blessed to be in his presence. She doesn’t believe in treating anyone like they’re God’s gift to women.

The lights flicker for a moment before they completely fail. The two of them are in the dark.

“Fuck!” she hears him swear.

The storm outside has ensured that it’s practically night. It’s pitch black inside and it’s going to be freezing soon. This cabin doesn’t even have a fireplace.

“There goes the soup,” she mutters before reaching out and trying to find her way around. A light flickers and she can see Jax’s face lit up by the lighter.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. The fight fades now that they have a new problem to deal with. Whatever. They’ll pick it back up some other time. They always do. “You think they got candles?” The flame from the lighter disappears before he lights it again. She moves forward only to hit the edge of the table with her hip. She swears under her breath, trying to force herself to ignore the pain.

“You alright?”

She waves him off despite the fact he probably can’t see her. “Fine. Check the drawers. I think I saw some matches in the kitchen.”

She turns back, carefully now, before heading to try and find the drawer where she saw them. It’s ten times harder than searching for the can opener considering she can’t see shit. She nearly slices open her hand on some sharp thing in one of the drawers. It’s pure luck that she manages to avoid it. She does find the matches though.

It takes a few strikes on the side of the box before it sparks and lights. She turns to help search for candles. Jax is turned away from her, searching one of the cupboards of the cabinet that’s up against one of the walls. She can barely make out the patch on the back of his vest. It’s a familiar sight, one that she’s seen constantly throughout her life. Everyone in Charming has. She feels something ease in her though at it. Despite all of her desires to be alone, she’s glad she’s not. Especially now.

The flame on the match singes her fingers and she drops it automatically, shaking out her hand before putting the burnt tips in her mouth. It doesn’t do much to ease the pain but it makes her feel a bit better. She steps on the match, just to make sure it’s out. That’s what she gets for getting distracted.

“Got ‘em!”

She lights another match and moves closer to Jax. He shifts before standing up with a lit candle in his hand.

“Here,” he hands it to her. “Hand me the matches. I’ll light the rest.”

She doesn’t bother asking why he’s not using his lighter, just takes the candle. It doesn’t come with a stand and she finds herself heading back to the kitchen to grab and plate or bowl. Something to catch the wax and make sure they don’t accidentally burn the place down. With the way her luck is going, anything is possible.

There are three candles in total. It’s not a lot and they come to the agreement to burn one at a time. Just in case. At least once they’re done finding some blankets.

She finds a bunch in a chest at the end of the bed in the other room.

“Here,” she tosses one of the blankets on his head as she heads to the couch where he’s sitting.

He coughs, yanking it off of his head. “What the–this stinks.” He lifts it to his nose and smells it again. “What the fuck is this smell?”

“Mothballs. Smells like old people.” She has one of the blankets wrapped around her shoulders when she plops down on the opposite end of the couch. “What? It doesn’t smell like Clay?”

He laughs suddenly, seemingly surprised by her remark. “I dare you to tell him that.”

“I like living, thanks.” She watches as he lights another cigarette before looking towards the window. The snow is still coming down. It’s a surprising amount for the state. Even in this area. At least, she thinks it is. She’s not a weather person.

Isabelle pulls her feet up on the couch and wraps her arms around her knees. She can feel him watching her. His words from earlier come back to her. For as much as she claims he’s an asshole, she’s not much better. At least, she’s beginning to realize she might have to share at least some of the blame in this. It burns at her.

“Thanks,” she says softly, breaking the silence. “For helping.”

“What?” he asks. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t hear you.”

She moves her foot and shoves his thigh with it. “Don’t push it.”

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t reply. He also doesn’t ask her to repeat it. It’s weird sitting next to him in the dark. Sure, there’s a candle, but it’s not bright enough.

“So what’d Gemma want you to pick up?”

She looks over at Jax. “You can ask Gemma.”

He frowns slightly. “You really not going to tell me?”

“Just because you’re her son doesn’t mean you have to know everything she’s doing. You want her to know everything you do?” She raises her eyebrows at him. She knows there’s shit he’s done that he’s kept from his mother. Every kid does.

“Fair enough. But why you?”

“Why not?” She shrugs. “She asked.”

He stares at her for a moment and she tries not to shift under his gaze. “Didn’t realize you were that close to her.”

“We’re not.” She just likes Gemma.

“Coulda fooled me.”

They sit in silence again. She pulls the blanket closer, trying to ignore the sound of the wind outside. “This fucking sucks,” she mutters.

Jax laughs again but nods. “Yeah, not how I thought my night would go.”

“What? You mean you didn’t plan to get stranded by a freak storm after saving my ass?”

“Well, least you admit it.” They fall silent again before Jax breaks it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Can’t stop you,” she says. She motions for him to get it over with. Nothing good starts like that but they’re stuck in the dark and the cold. Might as well find some way to entertain themselves.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Why do you act like an ass all the time?” She retorts back. She doesn’t know how to answer his question. She just does.

“Just giving back what I get,” he says, tilting his head as he stares at her. “So what’s the reason? I do something? ‘Cause darlin’, we’ve always been at each other's throats. I wanna know why.”

Isabelle frowns slightly, confused. How could he not know? He’s always been a participant in their fights. He avoided and snapped at her the same way she did to him. She always hated the way he presented himself but after today, she’s beginning to wonder if she’s wrong. Not completely but maybe there’s more to it.

“We don’t like each other, Jax,” she finally says. “You’ve always acted like you’re a prince and you expect all of us to be your subjects. You just piss me off.” She’s nothing if not honest.

“You ever think it might be something else?”

She scowls, totally confused this time. “What?”

“How come I’ve never seen you around with anyone?” He asks, completely ignoring her question.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugs. “Just curious. Got nothing else to do. Might as well get to know each other.”

“We’ve known each other for years, Jax.”

“You gonna answer my question?”

She stares at him, still confused by everything that’s been happening in the last ten minutes. He’s jumping around topics and she hasn’t had any time to process any of this. Though usually, they’re not around each other this long, especially without an escape.

“I have more important things to worry about than dating,” she says.

“Like what?”

“Like taking care of my sister.” His eyebrows raise at that and before she can stop herself, she starts explaining. “I’m her guardian. I gotta take care of her and that involves working. I don’t have time to date some asshole who’s only interested in sex and freaks when he realizes I’m basically a parent to a teenager.”

“Shit. No wonder you’re so wound up.” She glares at him and he raises her hands in surrender. “I’m kidding. I get it. She gonna be okay with you here?” He looks concerned.

“She’s fine. She’s spending the night at a friend’s and she texts me enough to know what’s happening.”

He frowns slightly. “How old is she again?”

“Fifteen.”

“And when’d you become guardian?”

“When I was 18.” Isabelle has long stopped thinking about everything she’s missed in her life. She doesn’t regret making that choice.

He stares at her in surprise. “I knew you had a sister and shit but,” he pauses and shifts, turning to face her more and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “I never thought about who was looking after you.”

“Why would you? We’re not friends. It’s no one’s business but mine.”

“But my mom knows.”

“Gemma’s known for years. It’s not a big secret and she met her at a fundraiser few years ago.” She shifts, pulling the blanket closer. It’s getting colder in the place.

“Your folks? They died when you were in high school right?” His voice is softer than she expects and she feels the lump in her throat grow at the reminder.

She looks back towards the window. “I was sixteen. She was three.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She just nods. She’s heard it all.

“My dad died when I was fifteen. My brother died when he was six. I was twelve.” He pulls out a cigarette and she barely even notices. How did she not know any of this? Then again, when she was twelve her mother was unexpectedly pregnant and she was likely wrapped up in her own trauma with their deaths to pay any attention to Jax’s life. Like she said, they weren’t friends.

“I had to fight to get Hailey back when I was 18. They put us into the foster system when our parents died. I had to prove I could take care of her.” She rests her head on the back of the couch. That was an exhausting year. She’s tired just thinking about it. It was worth it though. They had gotten lucky to get fostered by a family in town. Still was a bitch trying to get Hailey out of it. “We’re not doing this,” she says suddenly.

“Doing what?” he asks. His gaze settles on her and for the first time, it feels as though there’s a weight to it. Or maybe she’s just noticing more.

“Comparing our sad stories. I don’t want to do that.”

“What do you want?” He exhales slowly and she watches the smoke rise and dissipate. “Come on, princess. No one else around. What do you want?”

When was the last time someone asked her that? “I don’t know. Maybe some sleep.”

“That it?”

“That’s all I can think of. What about you? What do you want?”

He smirks then, looking at her. “You don’t want to know.”

She considers protesting, arguing that she at least answered when he asked but she doesn't. “This is the longest we’ve ever talked.”

“Yeah? Whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” she says instantly. She can’t stop the smile though, especially when he raises his eyebrows at her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup.” Isabelle tries to move closer into the couch as if she can convince it to absorb her. The place just seems to be getting colder the later it gets. “What time did you say they were coming?”

“When the plows get through. Probably in the morning.” He nods towards her. “You cold?”

“No, I grew up in the arctic and this is downright balmy.” She really needs to curb her tongue. Especially if they’re going to keep playing nice.

“This must be a nice vacation for you, ice queen,” he says, grinning back. Then again, maybe he doesn’t mind. He’s always been able to snap back and argue with her. Maybe that’s part of the reason why she directed all her ire at him. It was easier than lashing out at anyone else. It didn’t help that he walked around like he didn’t have a single care in the world and she was trying to keep the remnants of her family together. God, she was a bitch.

“Well, good to know I’ve been promoted,” she says dryly. “I expect a crown.”

“I can throw you outside and you can make one out of icicles,” he offers.

She glares at him. “Don’t you dare.” She’s already freezing enough. She definitely doesn’t need any help by going outside.

“Come here,” he offers. He opens the blanket he has around him and offers an arm. “Be warmer if we were together.”

She stares at him suspiciously. He’s never done anything nice before. Then again, neither has she.

“Just fucking come,” he says. The look in his eyes tells her he knows exactly what innuendo he just made. “You’re not the only one cold.”

“Oh is the big bad biker cold?” She snarks. “Thought nothing could bother you.”

“I don’t do cold,” he says. He reaches over and grabs her leg before pulling her towards him.

“Okay!” she says, trying to scramble back to a seated position. He lets go and she ignores the heat of his grip. She moves closer to him. “Just don’t try anything.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m only into the willing.”

“Well that’s something,” she mutters. If he hears her, he ignores it. Instead, he wraps an arm around her shoulders as she sits next to him and pulls her closer. She fixes her blanket so that it covers their front since his covers their backs.

He’s not wrong. It’s warmer leaning against him and she tries to ignore the feeling of his arm around her and the smell of him. He smells like oil and smoke and whatever cologne he wears. It was far more attractive than he had any right to be. He didn’t need any help.

“Why’d you put up with me?” She doesn’t look at him as she asks it, but she's curious. Especially now that she’s had the epiphany that she’s been using him as a punching bag and he probably didn’t deserve it. At least, not when she hasn’t actually had a good reason for it.

“Hmm?” He sounds as though he’s falling asleep. “With what?”

“All of our fights. Why’d you keep arguing back?”

“Maybe I just liked seeing you angry,” he says. She digs an elbow into his stomach. “Shit, okay.” He pushed her elbow away and rubbed his stomach. “I don’t know, alright? At first, I was angry right back, you were on your high horse and while I deserve a lot of shit, I didn’t do anything to you. After a while it was habit. Not like we saw each other a lot anyway.” That somehow made sense and also didn’t. “Does it really matter? Or you gonna go back to yelling at me when we get out of here?”

“I don’t yell,” she says. “I just…get frustrated.”

“Yeah, well maybe you need another fucking outlet for that.”

“Hmm, let me guess, you suggest sex?”

“I was gonna say boxing. Get that anger out on a bag or something but if you want sex, I can oblige.”

She laughs softly and rolls her eyes. “Sure, Jax.” He’s not wrong though. She should find another outlet. She just doesn’t know if she can afford anything like that. Or have the time. She’s already working two jobs and while she’s reached out to them about being stuck and unable to make it tomorrow, she’s not sure what type of effect being snowed in will have. She’s pretty sure one of her managers didn’t believe her.

She sighs and closes her eyes, leaning against Jax. The leather isn’t exactly comfortable but it’s an interesting contrast with the flannel against her skin. She’s not going to complain because he’s wearing something he thinks is comfortable. Especially when the layers are helping keep them both warm.

“What?”

“Hmm?” She looks over and up to see Jax’s face. “What?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Work,” she answers honestly. “Just shit I have to take care of when I get back.”

There’s silence before he asks, “When was the last time you had a vacation?”

“Never.” It’s not a problem. She does what she has to do. “Maybe when Hailey gets into university. Or whatever she’s going to do in the future. I’ll relax then.” When she’s an adult. She shifts without thinking, trying to get closer to the warmth of Jax’s chest. His arm tightens around her.

She feels something loosen in her chest. Or maybe it’s just the existential crisis of self-actualization. She’s oddly comfortable against him and the smell of smoke isn’t bothering her like she expected it to.

Jax turns slightly. “You mind?” He waits for her attention before he moves slightly, shifting more towards her and putting a leg on the couch against hers. It’s oddly intimate. She pulls back without thinking but Jax’s grip tightens and guides her back against him. “It’s fine, darlin’. Just trying to get more comfortable. Don’t go stealing my warmth now.”

“Sorry.” They both pause. It’s the first time she’s ever apologized to him and it’s for something stupid. She had no intention of apologizing for their fights, she used to be certain he deserved it, but now she’s not so sure. God, being wrong sucks. Self-reflection sucks. “I’m sorry,” she says again. “For being a bitch.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She expected more of a fight but Jax seems content to lie back on the couch, practically boxing her in on the inside. It’s warm though so she’s not going to complain. She never really gave much thought to the man, aside from how much he bothered her when she saw him, and somehow it never occurred to her that he was built. She could tell even through the layers. Maybe because of the way he was still holding her but there was something about being surrounded by his smell, which thankfully was overpowering the mothballs, and being able to hear his heartbeat that was oddly soothing. Maybe it was the same familiarity of seeing his patch, but she didn’t have this memory or anything like it. She hadn’t let someone hold her like this in years.

“What time is it?” Her phone is in her bag on the table by the kitchen. She’s not moving to get it.

He shifts again to pull out the flip phone and checks it. “Past midnight.”

“Okay.” She should get her phone, just to check for any messages. “I gotta move.”

“What? Why?”

“I just need my phone. Make sure everything’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay.” He moves his legs back over the side so his feet touch the floor before helping her up.

“Shit,” she mutters as the air hits once she’s standing and no longer warm. “It’s fucking freezing.” Her eyes have adjusted enough that she can make out the bag. Luckily it’s not far. Isabelle grabs the bag and moves quickly back to the couch. She sits next to Jax, her thigh pressed against his as she drops her bag on her lap and starts looking for her phone. Jax wraps his arm back around her, sharing the warmth she left.

She moves and drops her bag on the table in front of the couch before checking for any notifications. There’s a message from her sister wishing her goodnight and to be safe. She smiles softly at that before opening it and typing back. She can feel Jax staring at her as she locks the screen again and puts the phone on the table in reach.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah.”

She turns to smile at him, which feels strange if she thinks about it. She’s just not used to it. She’s used to snarling and arguing with him. Not have his arm around her as they tried to stay warm while waiting for rescue. His eyes are dark but the candle looks like it’s going to drown in its own wax.

He leans forward slightly, eyes on hers and her breath hitches at the movement.

“Jax, what are you doing?”

“You remember asking what I wanted?” He says softly.

“Yeah?” She can see his eyes glance down and she wonders if she should stop him.

“It’s this.” He kisses her. It’s gentle at first, hesitant as if he’s expecting her to pull back. She doesn’t. Her eyes close at the feeling of his lips against hers. His hand moves to cup her jaw before going under her hair and cupping the back of her neck, keeping her with him. He tilts his head, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. She opens her mouth, granting access and letting him deepen the kiss. She digs her fingers into his hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp. He grabs her, an arm around her waist before he pulls her onto his lap so she’s straddling him. He holds her against his chest, and despite her knowing that she shouldn’t be doing this, she doesn’t care. It’s been too long.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as he breaks the kiss.

She tries to catch her breath but he kisses her again and she can’t help but be lost in it. The man knows how to kiss. His lips move from hers and begin laying a trail across her cheek and along her neck. She arches into him, trying to give him move access. His hand on her back slips under her shirt. The cold air seeps in along with the warmth of his skin on hers.

“Jax,” she breathes. He hums in question against her skin and she shivers. “We should…we should stop.”

He pulls back instantly, frowning slightly as he looks at her. “You want to stop?”

“We should stop,” she says again. “I mean, come on, we fight every single time we see each other.”

He shrugs. “So?” He shifts slightly and she tries not to react to feeling his body under hers. He sighs but his thumb of the hand on her back strokes the skin softly. “Ain’t gonna do anything you don’t want.” His eyes meet hers. “What do you want, Iz?”

She pauses as she thinks. What does she want? Not in general but right now. There are no responsibilities. There’s nothing she can do except wait here with him. It’s a weird sort of blessing when she thought the universe hated her.

She leans forward and kisses him. He smiles against her lips before he takes control of the kiss, deepening it and pulling her closer against him.

It doesn’t take long before her shirt is off and she’s moved so she’s lying on the couch and Jax is above her.

“You good?” he asks once he pulls off his own top layers.

“I’m fucking cold.”

His eyes glance down and he smirks. “I can see that.”

“Then hurry up and do something about it,” she says, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at his look.

“Sure thing, princess.” He leans down and adjusts himself so he’s in between her legs before he kisses her. “I’ll make you warm.”

She laughs.

They wake up to a phone ringing.

It’s not her ringtone but she shifts and nearly falls off of the couch they passed out on. Jax catches her just in time, pulling her back against his chest. They really should have used the bed. It’s a bit of awkward maneuvering before they’re both sitting up. Isabelle has a blanket wrapped around her, trying to ward off the chill and find her clothes. Jax doesn’t seem bothered as he finds his jeans and pulls out his phone.

“Yeah?”

She ignores him as she grabs her clothes and heads to the bathroom. Surprisingly, they didn’t do too much damage to the place. When they first got here, she expected to be tempted to murder him. Not this.

She gets cleaned up and dressed in the bathroom. The water is freezing, but at least it works. She wraps the blanket back around her before heading back into the living room. She goes for her phone. The table got kicked back a bit during the night but her phone is still on it. There are a couple of messages from Hailey and one from the manager who didn’t believe her asking why she hasn’t shown up. Isabelle sighs. She’ll deal with that once they’re on the road. She sends a text to her sister before she closes the apps and locks it again. It needs to charge.

“You alright?” Jax asks, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck while he wraps an arm around her waist. She didn’t expect that.

“Yeah. Any word?”

“They’re at the road. We gotta go meet them there. You ready?”

She glances around, drops the blanket back on the couch and grabs her purse before nodding. “When you are.”

He leads her to the door, arm still around her and pauses. He lets go and darts back, grabbing the blanket. She frowns slightly, confused about why he grabbed it. “Souvenir,” he grins.

“Ew.”

He laughs at her but wraps an arm back around her and leads her outside. There’s about a foot of snow on the ground. Luckily, they can see the road from where they are. “Come on, princess. Gotta get your feet wet.”

Isabelle bends over and scoops up some snow, forming it into a ball.

His eyes go wide. “You don’t want to do that.”

“You better run Teller,” she says. “Before this princess shoves snow down your back.”

“You think you’ll get a chance?” He raises his eyebrows at her.

“I have a little sister. I think you don’t know what you’re in for. Last chance.”

“You throw that and I’ll dump your ass in the snow.”

She considers it for a second before she throws it and takes off running. She hears him sputter but it’s a hundred percent worth it. He really didn’t think this would all be easy just because they slept together, did he? She laughs as she gets close to the trucks. So of course that’s when she’s tackled and gets a mouthful of snow.

Isabelle’s flipped over quickly to see Jax grinning above her.

“Told you I’d catch you. Can’t run from me, princess.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She asks.

He offers her a hand. “Come on, let’s get you dried off and we can grab breakfast on the way.”

She takes it simply for the promise of breakfast. He yanks her to her feet instantly before helping her brush off the snow. He offers her the blanket.

“Glad I kept it now?”

She takes it and wraps it around herself. “Ass,” she says but it’s more affectionate than usual.

“Got a great one,” he winks. “Come on.”

They finally reach the trucks and see a couple of guys from his club waiting for them.

“You two have fun?” one of them calls out.

“You know it. My bike in the trailer?”

“Yeah, and her car’s hitched.”

She rolled her eyes at being blatantly ignored. “Where am I going?” she asks. The cold was beginning to seep back in now.

“You’re with me. We’ll take the truck. You two take her car to the garage. She skidded off-road. Make sure there’s no damage.”

“Got it.” Both of the men waved before climbing into the tow truck her car was attached to.

“Come on, princess. Your chariot awaits,” Jax says, motioning for her to head to the large truck.

“How charming,” she drawls.

“That’s the destination.”

Isabelle snorts at that and climbs into the passenger side. She waits until he’s inside and they started driving before she speaks. “Let’s get food. I’m starving.”

“Worked up an appetite?”

“I will kick you out of this truck.”

“Then how will you get back?”

“I’ll figure out how to drive it,” she shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“And here I was gonna buy you breakfast.”

“You’re paying?” she asks, looking over at him.

He looks at her like she’s insane. “‘Course I’m paying.”

“Then you can stay,” she says as though it’s a sacrifice she’s willing to make.

“Gee, thanks,” he drawls. “That all I’m good for? Food?”

“Well, not only food.” She grins at him and he laughs before reaching over and placing a hand on her thigh. She lets it remain the whole drive.

taglist: @raith-way @ocfairygodmother @lokitrasho @zeleniafic @jewelswrites-ish @tessasocs @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @chickensarentcheap

#jax teller x oc #jax teller/oc #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy oneshot #winter prompts #sort of #sons of anarchy: Jax #jax/oc

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Could i get a part two on the bef sharing trope with dream? I wanna see the green man struggle with internal FEELINGS about the reader and that night bc its adorable

Head very very full

☾ 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕚𝕣𝕖 ☽

pairing: Dream x reader

warnings: none :)

links: ao3, main, pt. 1

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this xx 

After scraping together your appearances, you and Dream climbed back into his car and settled back into the bends of the highway, hoping to reach your destination soon. Since the two of you had gotten up, Clay had been weirdly quiet, which you pretended not to notice and continued to ramble and talk to him. His absent-minded responses were completely uncharacteristic for him, but pointing that out would probably evoke some sort of frustrated response from him about you being obsessed. 

You rolled your window down slightly while the two of you were stopped at a red light. Clay pressed his back further against his seat to stretch before pulling off his hoodie and tossing it in the back. Your eyes lingered on his arms, your mind drifting to the feeling of his skin against yours. You hated how, despite his immature reaction to the situation, you yearned to be back in his embrace again. You had half a mind to make him stop at another motel and ask for one bed just to prove a point. You weren’t sure if it was to him or yourself. 

You reached for your drink that was wedged into the cupholder, accidentally brushing his arm that was resting on the console. He jumped at your touch, acting almost as a reflex and making you quip an eyebrow at him teasingly. “You should be careful; I have the worst case of cooties,” you joshed. Clay narrowed his eyes to the brightness of the sun, shaking his head slightly at your joke. The light made his eyes almost an iridescent forest green. 

He placed both hands on the wheel, looking more tense than he had before. You bit back a laugh at his obvious discomfort. You reached to turn up the radio and let him have his quiet time. 

You’d been on the road for an hour when the car blew a tire, leaving you and Dream on the side of the road, standing side-by-side as you stared at the deflated wheel. “Can’t you just change it?” You mumbled, sending him into a dark chuckle. 

“WOw, wouldn’t that be NiCE.” He stepped closer to the car, kicking the tire with his foot. “Only, I don’t have a spare.” He ran a hand through his hair, his shirt tightening around his shoulder. You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying not to enjoy his meltdown. He went into a fit of mumbling to himself before digging out his phone and calling a tow truck. “The one time I take country roads, I swear to- Hi!” His dynamic changed completely as someone picked up on the other end. You walked over to move beside him again, settling against the passenger door as he paced in front of you slowly, attempting to make the act of calling the auto-shop less awkward for himself. 

“It’ll be a few hours,” he stated after ending the call, resting one of his arms on the roof of the car and leaning his weight against the metal beside you. His towering frame blocked the wind from reaching you. He looked around the two of you at the desolate fields. You were truly isolated from civilization. 

You finally made eye contact with him, a small blush creeping to his cheeks before he looked away again. “What should we do until then?” You asked, digging the toe of your sneaker into the dirt. “I mean you seemed to like cuddling yesterday so…” you mumbled barely above a whisper. 

He scoffed, with an eye roll before crossing his arms. “That information dies with the two of us, okay?” 

You couldn’t help the grin splitting your face. “What? We can’t talk about that?” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “You were like slobbering on my shoulder, all nestled up! It was actually really cute, Clay.” 

“I regret agreeing to this trip with you,” he muttered. 

But you continued. “I feel honored being your personal teddy bear. The Great Dream actually snuggled up to me-” 

“Shut up,” he grumbled. 

“-And to think, if it weren’t for that tiny motel bed, I would never know what it was like to-” 

Clay cut you off by swiftly grabbing your forearm and pulling you to his chest. Before your mind could register the abrupt action, he pressed his lips against yours. Your thoughts had turned into radio static as you leaned into his kiss. Yet, just as it had begun, Clay parted from you. He sent you a rather deadpanned look, masking the hesitation swirling behind his eyes. His grasp slipped from you as he took a step back. Without thinking, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you and signing a peace treaty between the two of you with a grander kiss. His breath was hot against your cheek as he sighed into your lips. 

It felt right to be this close to him, like you were home once again. One of his hands settled against your jaw, the coarseness of his thumb lightly brushing against your skin with a softness you previously weren’t sure Clay had within him. Your hands spread to wrap around him, deepening your kiss. The sun beat down against your skin, as the smell of Clay’s body wash began to blend into your senses. 

With reluctance, Clay pulled away from you breathlessly. The two of you stood in silence, your fingers reaching up to brush against the phantom feeling of his lips on your own. You felt giddy inside at the pure shock of the matter. “I think I saw a house down the road. Wanna check it out?” He asked, nonchalantly reaching through the window and grabbing his jacket. You wordlessly nodded, following close behind as he began down the dirt road. 

#dream x reader #dream fluff #dream imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt fandom #dreamwastaken x reader