#statistically speaking he should be happy by now

[lorelune]

(aventurine x reader /// continuation of this concept)

"explain to me," the good doctor demands, "why do you need my help?"

"because." you fumble around you're words. your lips feel cold. herta's space station, especially this deep in it's bowels, is an unpleasant place to have any conversation, let alone one that is also unpleasant. "i don't have time."

"and you assume i do?"

"partially?" you rub a hand over your cheek. "throw me a bone here, doctor."

ratio has been sizing you up for the better part of half an hour, scrutinizing your intent in any way he can. you have been skillfully attempting to dodge most of those attempts, but veritas ratio is as diligent a man as he is intelligent. which is to say that he is not letting up until you divulge the truth.

you sigh.

"you will explain to me," he says outright, gaze piercing. "how one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers needs help with an algorithm that is far below both of our skill levels. it's insulting to both myself, and yourself."

you sigh again, deeper and harder, "i, once again, do not have time. i have the 'full time job' of handling aventurine's odds, and those calculations don't run like any other odds i've ever worked with, and he is a variable constantly in motion. i need help making this algorithm so i can have some assistance with my main job at hand."

the doctor scoffs, and walks a circle around you, "i'm sure he's just thrilled with the company."

"we— he manages."

more than. but, veritas doesn't need to know that. you're sure he'll figure it out eventually.

veritas tagged the briefcase on a nearby table. it's gleaming, with a discreet ipc logo embossed on the side. the sight of it makes you nauseous with anxiety.

"is this bribe from him?" he asks.

"no." you've stopped aventurine anytime he has tried to intervene and make things easier for you. he rarely listens, but your relationship with ratio and the guild make him somewhat neutral territory. "higher up."

"i assume diamond wouldn't bother to dirty her hands. so, jade?"

"yes."

dr. ratio, for the first time, seriously considers your offer. then scowls. "it would be a waste of my time."

you sigh. there was a 67.22% chance of this outcome. luckily, you have gamed out the conversation from here.

"so you can't?"

"you know i can."

then, you laugh, and shake your head. "yes, i do. sorry to tease. i'm quite tired."

"you should go find your gambler." veritas crosses his arms, looking sidelong at the briefcase.

"i will, eventually." you turn your back to veritas as you begin to leave the open atrium. the air is hollow and frigid. "i'll just ask some other intelligentsia guild members about the project first. i'm sure they'd be happy to help."

you only take a few steps before dr. ratio grabs your arm. his grip is far too strong.

(chance of failure to secure dr. veritas ratio's assistance: decreased by 31%.)

"don't bother them."

"someone needs to help." you turn back to look at him, expression schooled. "and if you won't, i'm very sure someone else will be happy to work beside 'one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers'. or, does such a title not truly apply considering i've been ousted from my previous position?"

he frowns, but before he can speak, you interrupt him. you haven't seen veritas since being tied down to your current post. you haven't let him have it. he deserves it, maybe.

"i heard from jade that i received a glowing recommendation from another well-respected scholar. apparently, the position was being considered for either one of us. somehow, with that recommendation, i drew the short end of the stick and now play handler for a man with a death wish and a statistically measurable chaos quotient that's ever-changing in multiples of three."

veritas's face is unmoving. unchanging. but you know you've struck something. it was to be him or you in this position. and you don't have the pride he does. you place your hand over top of his, posed to speak, to tear him apart—

a shrill ringtone shatters the tension. it's yours. you already know who it is.

you flip your phone open with one hand, still staring at ratio.

"hello," aventurine's voice beckons from the other side, smug and smooth. "where is my favorite, most brilliant mind hiding out? we're due to leave soon."

"sadly, with another one of your favorite, brilliant minds. i'll be finished up shortly and meet you at the docks."

"aw, did he not get onboard? that's quite the choice for him to be making. do you want me to give him a talking to you?"

"no, it's fine. i'm working something out."

"you sound upset."

"i'm tired." you rub at your eyes and break away from veritas with a yawn.

"you can nap on the ship. we have quite the journey."

"that we do. i'll see you in a bit?"

"see you there." you can hear the smirk in his voice.

sending you down to veritas alone was aventurine's gamble. one that is working out, predictably. never mind the damage your reputation will take after these next moments. you close the phone with a sigh and begin toward the grand elevator.

"veritas," you call his name. "i forgive you, for what it's worth. try not to do it again."

"i couldn't."

you laugh and shake your head as you ascend. by the time you arrive at the docks, the ipc's premier vessel is packed away and priming its engines. lights and sirens echo from it. aventurine's idles outside, waiting for you. he beams when he sees you.

"so," he whistles, guiding you with a hand on your lower back. you let him. "was the good doctor as prickly as ever?”

"if not more so" you admit. aventurine gestures with a sweeping hand to your shared quarters for the time being. there's a single bed, but you're used to this. you've come not to mind it. "i think i bruised his ego."

with a genuine laugh, “i don’t think that's possible."

"want to bet on that?" you ask.

your phone's text tone chimes and you shoot aventurine a sharp smile.

aventurine's odds are ridiculous. ever changing, constantly moving. none of your perceptions and calculations that are usually steadfast and unmoving can keep up with him. not with efficiency, anyways. it's exhausting work. however, the likelihoods of everything but aventurine? the predictions of a man like ratio?

easy. simple. you could do them in your sleep.

aventurine squishes against your side as you open your newest message.

[SENDER: Doctor Ratio <intelligentsia guild>]

> here is a first draft. forgo payment. i do not need to be in the stonehearts’ pocket.

[file attached: STONE ALGORITHM DRAFT 1.0.spqxxxiun.pqo]

aventurine laughs, muffling it against the side of your neck. his teeth are sharp and his breath is warm. it settles something in you. you lean into him and deflate, sliding down into your lap so your head is pillows there. a gloved hand cards through your hair.

"you're quite good at the game, when you choose to play." aventurine reminds you. he tells you this often.

"i know." you turn your face into his hand as the ship rumbles. "but it's your job."

aventurine pauses his pets, then thumbs over your lips. he looks sour, only for a moment, before resuming his motions, a bit rougher this time. you relish the feel of it, sinking into it.

"one of us has to, right?"

"right."

"and the other," he taps your lips. your sputter, indignant. "plays support."

"one of us has to." you remind him.

it's silent between the two of you as the ship whirs and bellows, taking off from herta's space station without reverie. onto your next destination, wherever aventurine is deigned to be needed, with you by his side, dutifully.

you press your face into his stomach, letting the smell of linen and his cologne envelope you.

neither of you have a choice to play this game. the cards are stacked, and you best not loose count from aventurine's side. you'll be damned if you do.

(there is a 98.769% chance that you are damned regardless.)

at least, at least, you have each other, you think as aventurine bundles you up closer, and you wrap yourself around him. you'll take that, for as long as it lasts.

#lore writes #drabbles #aventurine x reader #repost bc it deserves its own post hehe #this concept has been on the brain #the plot worms #i need deeply codependent reader/aventurine love love LOVE

[blue-jisungs]

fast cars, slow kisses

summary. after a race with beomgyu, the night takes an unexpected turn

au. street racer (cars vroom vroom)!! also!! enha, lsfm and hwang minhyun cameo >_<

word count. 3,9k

warnings. uh so, yeah! blood, cursing (strong language if u will), one guy being misogynistic n talking shit, suggestive but not really, alcohol consumption

a/n. ngl i feel like it could be better? more racing n stuff but i’m pretty happy w the ending tho so… enjoy ^_^ also i never watched fast and furious so uh, that’s kinda ironic, aha!

also am i the only one who’s not over this concept? like i am still going insane thanks 😍

+++ if anyone is interested in reading a spin off about minhyun set in this au, go read crush on the track by one and only @slytherinshua !!! (i beg it’s so good)

the smell of gasoline filled your nostrils when you took a deep breath. with a corner of your eye you saw someone approaching you. tucking your hands in the pockets of your jacket you turn around to face them. it turns out to be your friends, le sserafim.

well, not all of them. lsfm – for short – is done with racing this season due to the training of their youngest members, who along with sakura, are walking towards you.

eunchae waved enthusiastically and you couldn’t help but mirror her smile.

“what’s up, youngsters?” you grinned, putting your sunglasses on top of your head.

“long time no see, huh?” sakura nodded and the younger girls high fived with you.

“y’know how it is…” you mumbled, leaning against your car.

“you’ve got this!” eunchae jumped excitedly, eyes scanning your vehicle

“of course i do. this beautiful beast never disappoints” a playful smirk painted on your lips as you noticed your rival in the crowd “and how’s your training going?”

“well we have to train more if we want to beat you some day but as for now… we’re pretty good” kazuha scoffed, earning a giggle from all of you

“oh, we better go!” eunchae stated upon seeing your rival’s car arriving “fighting! if you win you buy us tteokbokki!”

“yah!” you laughed after she ran off. sakura just shook her head

“beat his noisy ass” she hummed and you saluted dramatically

“yes ma’am”

your friends leave to watch you from the side. you and lsfm became friends even since they got into racing. being an only girl in your area got super boring so you were more than excited to see some new faces. chaewon and sakura used to race as co-drivers but then they formed a team and now they’re racing as they wish – with a co-driver or solo.

speaking of solo, you notice minhyun. he’s staring at your rival amused before looking at you. the former co-driver, now solo driver just like you, sticks his tongue out in a playful manner. you do the same, blowing a raspberry when you hear a laugh. you look at the source and notice beomgyu, your enemy.

quite literally.

“my arch nemesis” he whispered yet it was loud enough for you to hear.

“what’s up? ready to lose or should i give you some time to rethink your life choices?” you asked. beomgyu scoffed, crossing his arms.

“the only thing you’ll be rethinking is your future” he bit back, cocking an eyebrow.

“we’ll see about this one. if i keep winning with you all the time i might consider my next location though” a teasing tone of your voice made him roll his eyes “it’s getting boring, y’know?”

he was about to say something when a flagger approached the start line. you took it as a sign and both of you entered your cars.

as you reached your way to the top of racing world, beomgyu was quite the pain in the ass. you managed to win a couple of times against his teammates. and against him, too. but if someone was to draw a graph of the statistics it would be a sinusoid: you won one race, then beomgyu did. then you again, then him… over and over. you started getting sick of him in general: his snarky comments, loud shouting, the confidence in his voice, his ridiculously attractive voice–

“–‘s race! we have thursday’s child of tomorrow by together…!” the announcer pointed at beomgyu’s car, a loud round of applause hitting your ears. he dramatically wiped his eyes as if touched by the support and then winked at you. “and over here we have the first female champion of last year’s races! make some noise for furious!”

you lazily curled the corner of your lips, saluting. the nickname was a bit dumb and so obvious that you were inspired by fast and furious movie saga but at the beginning of your career you thought it was cool. eunchae told you once that after stepping out of the car you do look a bit furious no matter if you win or lose. which might be true because during the ride, you let your negative emotions go; hence the furrowed brows and all.

regarding beomgyu, you didn’t really know the origins of his nickname. it was creative, you’ll give him that. but in this sport the strangest nickname, the less chances the cops will find out your real identity… or so you hoped.

“ready?”

both of your cars’ exhaust pipes made a loud, growling noise. you looked at niki, the youngster who was the flagger today. you sent him finger guns and he did the same, a huge smile blooming on his face.

“three… two… one… go!”

with a gust of wind niki’s hair flew in different directions, both cars passing him by milimeters. before he managed to turn around to look at the vehicles, you were already far away.

you saw the neon sign that signalled you to take a turn. that’s what you liked about racing, too. sure, riding on a race track that you’ve already been to is nice. but the thrill of new locations is much more fuelling, especially after dark. the sun was about to set, sky glowing with vibrant oranges. normally you’d stop and watch but now you were busier with out catching beomgyu.

taking a sharp turn you managed to make him to slow down. shifting the gear stick to a another level, the car made a loud noise and you sped up. taking a glance at beomgyu in the mirror you huffed. asshole.

shaking your head you focused on the road, scanning the flashing lights of that showed you the directions. putting the pedal to the floor, knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel you took a deep breath.

because you were on a schedule and went first, you and beomgyu had to finish ten laps. then yunjin was racing with yeonjun and so on. you agreed on racing only for 10 so the younger ones have more fun. besides… tomorrow is saturday and you really needed to rest.

throughout the whole race beomgyu was in front of you a couple of times. thanks to your love and passion for making sudden drifts at turns, you managed to put him into the wall. he didn’t crash, of course, but had to slow down.

the sky gradually turned navy, the darkness overtaking the whole track. only a couple of red lights at the finish line blinked in the distance.

you opened your window when you started approaching it. with a whistle of wind you crossed it, cheers erupting from the crowd. beomgyu arrived shortly after you, just when you took off your helmet. niki walked up to you and cheered loudly. throwing your head back while laughing you patted his back. beomgyu walked up to you, a playful smile on your lips.

“i went easy on you” he grunted. you extended your hand, the manners stronger than your dislike towards him, scoffing.

“mhm, whatever makes you sleep at night” a hum left your mouth and he shook your hand. he was holding your hand a little too tightly but let go suddenly, eyes widening.

minhyun walked up to you, patting your back.

“good job. i wish it was a little brighter so i could see your drifting skills in full glory but i guess your win is good too” he hummed.

“shut up” you scoffed, punching his arm “are you staying or…?”

“yeah, i’ll stay for a bit. are you parking the car or should i do it?” he asked, pointing at your keys. minhyun kept your car at his place since it would be too suspicious for a average student to own a racing car.

“i’ll do it. maybe i’ll dig around in your garage” you sent him a toothy grin. minhyun just rolled his eyes.

entering your car again you noticed beomgyu looking at you with a pensive look on his face.

without giving it any more thought you drove away, turning on the radio. your heart still pumping with adrenaline, you let out a shaky breath.

beomgyu stayed until the end. yeonjun lost against jay, soobin won with sunghoon and niki raced with kai for fun.

“not your day, huh?” he heard heeseung’s voice. he turned around and grunted,

“tell me about it” beomgyu rolled his eyes and pointed at niki “he’s got some potential though”

“yeah… beer? me and some other guys are going to the bar nearby” heeseung grinned.

“you know i never say no to beer” beomgyu laughed “let me just tell my idiots”

a short moment later they all met up in the bar, except the youngest ones. some other fans that were watching the races were there too.

beomgyu let out a heavy sigh and looked over at heeseung.

“what?” he grunted upon realising his friend was staring at him.

“i’ve noticed something, you know?” the oldest member of enhypen racing team smiled mischievously.

“that’s what your eyes are for” beomgyu murmured and took a sip of beer.

“we know you’re salty after losing but let it go, beomgyu” soobin, his leader, nudged him. heeseung smirked and shook his head after catching yeonjun’s curious gaze.

“we’ll talk later, let’s change the subject. did you watch the football game yesterday?” he asked, a lively conversation breaking out.

an hour passed by and beomgyu had to go to the bathroom. he didn’t drink too much but his vision got a little blurry once he stood up.

after he finished and washed his hands, while leaving the room he overheard a conversation.

“that girl, huh? i don’t believe it” one man, who was bald, said

“what do you mean?” his companion asked

“it’s a girl, dumbass” the bald one laughed loudly as if it was the funniest thing ever “no way in hell she beat thursday’s child”

“yeah… it’s a bit weird” his friend grunted

“i bet they’re a couple. or she just slept with some guy to win… whore” the bald guy spat out.

adrenaline and alcohol rushing through beomgyu’s veins lead him towards the guy. it all happened in a blink of an eye: him grabbing the bald guy’s shirt, throwing a left hook on his face, the other guy’s screaming. the punch was so strong that the guy landed on the floor. beomgyu pinned him down and tried making another punch

“she’s skilled, you fucking misogynist” he spat out.

“what the fuck?” the bald man grunted and managed to duck the attack and roll away. beomgyu, a bit dizzy, stood up and realised what he did. well, too late…

“what’s your problem, man?!” was all he heard before a sharp wave of pain spreading through his face. he took a few steps back due to the impact.

“my problem? it’s you who can’t understand that women can be good at male dominated sports? or are you just jealous because your life is so pathetic?” beomgyu spat out and the guy grabbed his shirt.

“who are you to talk?!” before the bald guy hit him again, beomgyu put his forearms in front of his face in order to protect his face from getting hurt. then he took a chance and managed to get out of the man’s hold and attacked him again.

“wait, is that… beomgyu?” he heard heeseung’s voice.

“what? no, he’s here! right, beomgyu?beomgyu–?!“ soobin’s shouts faded when another throw was aimed at the brown haired boy’s head resulting in ringing in his ears.

if you weren’t in the kitchen, having a 2am snack, you probably wouldn’t hear the aggressive knocking at your front door.

still with the spoon in your mouth you opened the door and your eyes widened upon seeing… beomgyu.

“what’s up, baby girl?” he smirked, leaning against the doorway. you were to shut your door when you noticed the awful state of his hands… and face.

“what the fuck, choi?” you grunted, removing the spoon.

“i was just having a midnight walk and decided to pay you a visit” he sent you a toothy grin

“just tell me who did you annoy this time or i’m closing the door” you sighed, crossing your arms. you wouldn’t, though. his brow was busted, nose bleeding and not to mention the huge bruise forming on his cheek bone.

he sighed, scratching his neck. you saw a glimpse of his knuckles covered in blood.

“i just got into a bar fight, that’s all. you should–“ he started sheepishly.

“… see the other guy, yeah yeah. just… come in. don’t you have a first aid kit at your place?” you grunted and closed the door after he walked in “wait, how do you even know where i live?”

“uhh… spidey senses? also, that’s a quite pretty place you have here” beomgyu shrugged. you walked over to the sink, throwing the spoon in, hiding the ice cream you were eating and pointed at the table in your dinning room.

“sit down. if i see you snooping around you’re being kicked out. and kicked in your ass” you huff, looking at him threateningly. the light was better inside so now you saw other scratches on his face.

“yes ma’am” beomgyu breathed out and obediently sat down where you told him to.

he zoned out while looking at the picture hanging on the wall. you and minhyun, his arm thrown over yours as you did bunny ears behind his head. pft. you looked like a couple.

the sudden thud of you placing the first aid kit down on the table made him jerk, his knees jumping up and hitting the table.

“stop daydreaming and tell me what happened” you ordered, looking for hydrogen dioxide.

“i was just looking at your boyfriend” he grunted, missing the thundering look you gave him.

“minhyun is like a brother to me. i’d rather date you than him. besides, he already has a girlfriend” you mumbled, realising what you said. beomgyu didn’t seem to catch it though, so you moved on quickly “whatever. i’m patching you up so you owe me an explanation”

beomgyu sighed.

“we went drinking and… i just had to put some rational thoughts into some guy. with my fists, that’s all” he said and his eyes widened when you tenderly grabbed his chin and propped it upwards, forcing him to look up at him.

“we? also, are you still drunk?” you asked and your features suddenly softened “i’m sorry but this will sting a bit”

beomgyu hissed when you pressed a cotton pad with the liquid on it, cleaning his open wounds.

“me and my team and also heeseung, jay, jake and sunghoon” beomgyu sighed “and i’m not drunk. i was. but the fight really sobered me up, y’know?”

“i assume. so, if i call soobin will he tell me the truth?” the question left him silent. you wiped the blood trickling from his nostrils gently.

he sighed again, closing his eyes.

“you’re a bad liar, choi. i noticed it the first time we met” you laughed quietly but there was no venom in your words “careful, here i go again”

he focused on the gentle touch of your fingers on his chin. suddenly you halted and he could hear your focused breathing.

“are you hungry?”

his eyes shot open, widening in surprise. then, his lips curled upwards almost recreating a v shape.

“actually, i am. whatcha got?” he asked. you went to the kitchen and beomgyu brushed his fingers against the spot where yours were just seconds ago. returning back with some milk bread he just noticed the way your hands were shaking.

“so you just beat up a guy for fun?” you asked. beomgyu scoffed and grabbed the bread, sinking his teeth in it. gosh, he was starving.

you carefully put a bandage on his brow, your own knitting due to the focused state you were in. he was munching slowly and suddenly you realised how his cheeks were dusted in a pretty, pink shade.

“well… he was taking shit about you” beomgyu blurted out after he swallowed, looking at you with his big doe eyes. you’d assume his blushing was caused by the alcohol in his system but the truth is… beomgyu realised how you were standing between his legs, so close to him.

“what?” you whispered, frowning.

he shrugged and took another bite.

you grabbed a nearby chair and sat on it, grabbing his right hand. you put some hydrogen dioxide on the wounds on his knuckles too, causing him to curse.

“what the fuck? why didn’t you warn me?” he grunted with his mouth full. your mind was racing, and so was your heart. did this mean that beomgyu – the guy who hated you with passion – stood up for you? and got into a fight?

“stop thinking so intensely, you’ll pop a vein” beomgyu chuckled but it became clear to him what you just realised too “it’s not what you think, i still hate you…”

his voice trailed off. you bandaged his knuckles in silence, heart thumping against your rib cage so hard, you thought it might break out any second.

“…he was just being misogynistic, that’s all” he added quietly after a while.

“are you sure it’s not because you like me?” you teased with a playful smile and looked up, expecting him to throw a snarky comment at you.

instead, you were met with his soft gaze on you and his pretty lips slightly parted. your smile dropped slightly, eyes locked with his. for a while though because his gaze shifted to your lips momentarily.

you gulped, trying to shake off the urge to… kiss him…?

“all done. patched up. you should take a shower though because you smell like a bar itself–“ you mumbled, looking up.

“can i kiss you?” beomgyu breathed out suddenly, his ebony eyes sparkling with adoration.

you nodded slowly, grabbing his hand. you intertwined fingers with his gently, beomgyu stood up and leaned in, cupping your face with his free hand. it was a bit harsh and calloused against your burning cheek, but his lips; oh his lips. they were pillowy, making you melt into the kiss. it was nothing but a loving kiss, reassembling a way that lovers kiss after they reunite after a long while without seeing each other. slow but sensual made your head spin and heart race faster than your car couple hours before.

your other hand travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. beomgyu hissed suddenly, pulling away.

“did i hurt you?” you asked, eyes widening in worry. he shook his head, a goofy smile on his face.

“i thought i was dreaming for a moment” he murmured and his hand slid down to your chin, propping it up slightly “and i was getting uncomfortable”

the taste of sweet bread he was eating earlier lingered on your lips. beomgyu leaned in again but you playfully tilted your head.

“wait, are you really kissing me? your arch nemesis?” a teasing hum left your mouth. he just rolled his eyes

“shut up” he grunted and kissed you again, your lips curling into a smile.

air was knocked out of your lungs one more time, his plush lips a cause of that. this time though you could taste the beer on his tongue. which reminded you of–

you leaned away, beomgyu panting.

“what?” he breathed out, chasing back after your lips.

“i know i’m irresistible but take a shower, you stink” you let out a soft laugh “and we’ll talk in the morning, okay? you must be tired”

“oh… yeah, sure” he nodded.

you showed him the way to the bathroom and gave some fresh clothes (minhyun’s shirt that you stole once). then you had a fifteen minute fight about who’s going to sleep on the couch and eventually you got it (by winning in a rock paper scissors)

you would lie if you said that you slept well. no, it wasn’t the couch. your mind was racing with thoughts: why did he kiss you? will he remember it? because what if he was still drunk? will it… lead to something else?

you hated beomgyu, sure, but that was because you were rivals in what you did. you never really… met him. and this all… was different. nice. got your heart warming up. you promised yourself that once you wake up in the morning and he’s gone, you’ll act like none of this never happened.

the sound of metal clanking and the smell of… burnt food was what woke you up. jolting forward from the couch you saw beomgyu wandering around in the kitchen, humming something.

“you know that for arson you can be up to 10 years in prison?” you asked, lazily standing up from the couch. he squealed, surprised by your sudden appearance.

“you woke up” he laughed, taking a sip of tea.

“i did. and you’re trying to burn my house down?” you cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms. beomgyu shook his head, placing two plates on the counter.

“i did. but i changed my mind and made pancakes” he hummed and took them to the dining room. you watched him in awe, heart fluttering. he stayed.

you sat down, staring at the food.

“i felt a little guilty you slept on the couch. and i was hungry, so…” he shrugged and started eating. but he stopped upon seeing you gazing at the pancakes with a small smile “i promise i didn’t poison it… although it was tempting”

“that’s not it. i’m just thinking… do you– well, why did you…” you trailed off, not sure how to put your thoughts into words. beomgyu understood, his features softening.

“y/n, the moment i saw you for the first time after the first race you won with taehyun i was whipped. i’m not kidding you” he said, your eyes widening. beomgyu chuckled, bright smile adoring his face “yes, i liked you. i have liked you for two years now… well, i still do… it’s just… the emotions after the race and all… we just didn’t start off too good and uh… shit happens”

you snorted, suddenly the way you caught him staring way too many times suddenly making sense.

“so if you want to forget about the kiss and all of that happened, i’d be sad but i’ll understand. and also… thank you. for patching me up and not… kicking out” he said, looking at the bandages on his knuckles

“i’m a bit surprised, i’m not going to lie… but… what do you want to do now?” you asked, blush creeping on your face. mischievous glint sparkled in his eye and you knew you’re doomed.

“i can take you on a date or two, for a romantic ride in my fast car” he smiled boyishly, suddenly leaning closer and whispering “and then we’d make it official and could make out on the back office of our usual racing track… y’know, keeping the facade we still hate each other…”

“shut up” you grunted, looking away,

“awwh, did i make you shy?” he cooed, pushing the plate with your pancakes closer “eat up and i’ll take you for a ride, huh?”

“only if we race there” you grunted, a smile lingering on your lips. beomgyu grinned and it’s safe to say it was the fastest way you’ve ever eaten (wolfed down) your breakfast.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @kazmura

#beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu txt #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu reactions #beomgyu au #txt au #txt fluff #txt reactions #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt fic #txt boyfriend #beomgyu

[goodday-goodmorn]

Little blurb that’s been sitting in my Docs for while based on @auspicioustidings idea from a while ago now i think— But yeah! I’be got like zero motivation to continue this- butttttt i liked the scene a lot so it shall be seen now! (Plus it’s Mhari’s Birthday!!! Happy Birthday Mhari! :> Even though i’m a few hours late into the day Hope you’re having a wonderful birth celebration!)

Based on a a scene i cooked up where reader finally gets caught by none other than the Ghost himself:

The weight of a gun in your hand is familiar.

So is the quiet sounds of a break in. You point at the door, watching, waiting. Like clockwork it creaks open, and there he is.

“Don’t move.”

You say sharply. Making the gun in your hand well known to the intruder.

Silence. He stares at you, you stare back. How many times have you done this dance? Tense words and a dashing messy escape. (The poorly wrapped bandages around your abdomen throb answering you question for you. Too many then.)

You sigh, and lower the gun.

He doesn’t even look suprised.

With a soft, Thump! ,you plop backwards onto the bed, arms outstretched. The gun is still in your hand but it’s dead weight. (Just like you.)

“…You’re not gonna ever stop are you?”

It’s said up at the shitty hotel ceiling. Hushed in the darkness of the room.

“No.”

He says it so simply.

You hum, pulling your knees and legs up onto the bed and rolling over. Back facing him, on your side. You snag a plushie on the way, hugging it close to your chest and settling your chin atop its head.

“Well shit. Turn all my red flags to white then, i give up.”

Defeated. Hushed. Tired. It sounds so unlike your normal voice. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

There’s a dip in the bed, true to his namesake- he was silent as he walked to sit. You haven’t even heard him.

“…Who did your bandages?” Gruff bastard with his gruff voice. Sounding way too passive for talking with you, an enemy, his target actually. He should be barking orders and threats to you, you’ve heard the way he speaks on a mission before, all bite and harsh. But he shows none of that tension now. Not a lick of hostility.

“Who do you think?” You snort out, tucking your face into the head of the plushie and vehemently ignoring him.

“Kid, you need help. You can’t survive on your own.” Straight to business it seems.

Without even turning to look at him, you halfheartedly raise your middle finger.

He sighs.

Silence. Blissful, damning, silence. You’ve no more fight left to give and he knows it. Months on the run, months of constant near death escapes, months of being hunted like a dog. You’re tired. So tired.

“Ya know, Torture isn’t an effective way of getting info outta someone: statistically speaking.”

“We’re not gonna torture you.”

“But you do want that info don’t you?”

More silence.

You hum knowingly.

“And what happens after you get your precious information? You’ll kill me? Maim me like all the other fuckers who end up in your shit list?”

“No. Never.”

He says it with such ferocity it almost takes you by surprise for a second. If you were to be facing him, you would see the hardness of his eyes. The pure conviction swarming in his gaze.

“Not you. Never you.”

…

Finally you turn to him, feeling far too much like a young little kid on the playground who just can’t understand-

“Why?”

Something in his gaze softness. He wants to tell you this because he cares. The team cares. All of them- that they saw you, a prickly, panicked little bird in over their head and flying blind- but he knows it an answer you won’t accept. One you won’t understand. Not at this stage. Not yet. You don’t believe in words, you’ve been lied too far too many times for that.

So he says something you will believe. A watered down version of the truth that feels like such a disservice to everything that makes up your very being.

“You’re interesting.”

You seem to digest his words. Turning them over and thinking in that little head of yours.

‘How long is that interest gonna last?’

That's what you want to say. You want to scream at the top of your lungs that he doesn’t want you. No one does. He’ll get sick of your brashness eventually- he’ll learn and grow used to your tricks. And when your spontaneity grows old, you know what’ll happen.

But you don’t.

You say nothing except—

“…Can I at least pack my bags? …please?”

He knows you don’t have much to pack. He also knows you’re one tricky, flighty little bird. However, he heard your small plea, sees the defeated look in your eyes, the way your hand is so lax around the gun.

Gently, oh so gently, he takes the gun from your hand. You don’t even try and fight him.

“Sorry little bird. Can’t trust you to pack.”

The sad look on your face nearly makes him reconsider. But he can’t risk you getting away again. Not when you’re so easy to catch right now. So vulnerable.

“Can’t you restrain me and then i’ll tell you what to pack?”

That, he can do.

“Up.”

Commands come so naturally to him. You’re almost jealous at how easily they fall from his lips.

Like the old defeated dog you are, you listen, sitting up and presenting your hands to him to restrain. You don’t meet his eyes.

He takes no chances, you are securely bound with a pair of handcuffs. He tugs on them, standing you up and nudging you to the common area of your hotel room. It’s a sizable room, a nice hotel, though truthfully you hadn't really been thinking when you booked it. Brain to frazzled and exhausted to think about anything beyond a clean bed and a hot shower.

The lights are flicked on by his gloved hands, flooding your vision. You hiss blinking and adjusting while he nudges you to the center of the room, down into your knees.

“What am I looking for here, bird?”

Your gaze flicks to him, then to the corner of the room, a vent right by a little corner desk with a lamp.

He follows your gaze and then, (with one last hard look towards you that screams ‘stay’), he walks over. Inside the vent is a crumpled up backpack, old and raggedy. It looks out of place amongst the clean cream colors of the hotel amenities.

He prods at the thing, trained caution. (You don’t blame him after your last stunt with explosives.)

Unceremoniously he opens up the bag and dumps all its contents on the floor. You wince, watching your whole life be scattered on the ground.

A journal, a thermal blanket, a lighter, cash, USB sticks, Your laptop in its thick padded casing (thank god), stolen hotel amenities, nicotine patches, several pill bottles, a half empty water bottle, a pocket knife, bullets…

Your own personal little horde of trinkets.

“Was that necessary…?” You mutter, as he stuffs some stuff back into the bag.

“Can’t blame me for bein’ cautious.”

“Well- i could.”

He turns to look at you. Just… stares at you, all you can see is his eyes at that dreadful mask, boring into yours. He doesn’t need to say anything. You both know you could but you never. Been through too much to really blame him.

You’ve saved his life before, even though he was hunting you. You both know you would never blame him for doing his job. Not at this point.

(Just as he would never blame you for running.)

#cod fanfic #fanfic #go look at auspicioustiddings they’re cool #reader insert #simon riley x reader #I have so many thoughts about this au #Simion is a treat in this #so soft #Reader on the run who is resourceful and just so absurd in their demeanor #i’m talking pulling out insane insults as they run #calling ghosts mask moldy lol #But also is a reader who is just so defeated and tired #they don’t wanna run anymore #not from 141 #not from banter through texts #not from stupid reaction images #not from strangers offering in full confidence to doordash you food while you’re starving #not from the resulting jokes about them trying to get an address out of you #Not from the warm yet hearty meal that shows up anyway #not from the closest thing to family they’ve ever known #but how could they ever stay? #It’s a dynamic set to fail #They are a target #An objective #So what happens when 141 finishes their mission #what happens when they are caught? #ANYWAY— Happy birthday Mhari!!!

[percervall]

Just wanted to say I love your Daniel fic, and Lando’s part is perfect in it too. I can’t help but wonder if the roles were reversed….

oh anon, thank you so much! That means a lot to me 🧡 I absolutely adored writing this

Apparently my brain agreed with you, because I wrote this in an evening. Hope I did Lando justice in this

this love (is yours and mine)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Words: 1241 Warnings: none

“You should tell her,” Daniel said, startling him from his thoughts as the Australian driver fell in step beside him. 

“Tell her what?” Lando replied, an uncomfortable weight settling in his chest. He had a feeling where this conversation was headed.

“That you love her,” came Daniel’s answer, “because you do, right?” 

“I-.. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lando muttered in response, feeling his cheeks heat up at the lie. Daniel grinned, seeing straight through him as he dodged the question.

“Yeah, thought so. Your face is an open book, mate. No poker face to speak of. How either of you haven’t figured out your expressions are identical is beyond me.”

That made Lando trip over his own feet, nearly sending him face first into the asphalt of the paddock. 

“Wh-what?” 

Daniel chuckled as he grabbed his arm to steady him. 

“Mate, she looks at you the same way. All smiles and heart-eyes. It’s cute. Oh, to be young and in love,” he mused, the grin still in place as he now slung an arm around Lando’s shoulders. 

“Sh-she does?” Lando couldn’t believe his ears. How had he not seen it? Had he been too busy trying not to look at her, not to make a fool of himself,  whenever they spent time together? They’d been friends for the longest time and Lando had just sort of accepted that it would probably always stay that way, but this had pulled the rug from under him. 

“100% mate. Like I said, you should tell her.” 

Lando mulled it over, nervously chewing on the draw string of his hoodie. If he wasn’t so worried it would do irreparable damage to their friendship, he would. But why ruin the only stable thing in his life?

“I don’t know, Danny. She’s my best mate, why-... I can’t lose that, not now.” 

“Listen, it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other,” Daniel said, holding the door to the McLaren motorhome open. 

“Meaning?” Lando asked, confusion now added to the mix of emotions already swirling through his head. Daniel chuckled again.

“Meaning, either you do or you don’t,” he explained with a shrug, “but are you truly happy just playing it safe? Where has that ever gotten anyone?” 

Lando knew he didn’t require an answer to that question. In their line of work it would always be nowhere. And if it wasn’t that it’d be P20. Daniel left him to stew on that as he climbed the stairs to the debriefing room. Lando sighed, hanging his head as he followed his teammate. 

+

The meeting had been long and his brain felt completely frazzled by the end of it. None of the statistics retained and Lando was pretty sure he had blindly agreed to a strategy he had no way of recalling for tomorrow’s race. A part of him wondered whether it would’ve made a difference if he did, and then he chastised himself for even thinking that way. Scrubbing a hand across his face, he blindly followed the rest of the team downstairs, exhaustion taking hold of him. Lando heard her before he saw her, her laughter ringing out like a windchime in the gentle breeze. Carlos was leaning on the back of the couch as he talked to her, probably telling her yet another story about their shared time as teammates. A jealousy reared its head with a ferocity that left him reeling. Carlos was very happy with his long-term girlfriend, there was no need for him to feel this strongly about another man being friendly with her. 

“Hey mate,” Carlos greeted him. She turned back around to face him and Lando was struck by how her expression changed when she laid eyes on him. Her smile widened, and her eyes softened as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Even dressed in one of Daniel’s enchante sweaters, a pair of faded jeans and beat up trainers, she still looked better than any of the celebrities milling about come Sunday. 

“Hey,” she said, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. 

“H-hey,” Lando managed to stutter, ready to blame the exhaustion if anyone were to comment on it. 

“Carlos invited us to dinner, but if you’d rather order in…?” she trailed off. It squeezed his heart, her knowing him like the back of her hand to offer him an out.

“Uh, yeah, no, dinner- dinner’s.. great,” he fumbled, internally groaning at his own awkwardness. 

“You okay?” Carlos asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Is Zak working you too hard?” he added in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’m-.. Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lando muttered. Was he really going to do this? Lando knew that Daniel was right; whether he did or didn’t, it didn’t matter. He could either keep this buried for the rest of eternity and suffer the consequences or he could tell her and see where it would land him. What’s the worst that could happen? His brain helpfully supplied him with a long list, but he swallowed down the panic that rose in his throat at the sheer thought. 

“I’m in love. With you,” he said, looking at his best friend since they’d been 16, “and I completely ge-..” Whatever he had wanted to say, died on his lips as she pretty much launched herself at him, pressing her lips against his. He instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist, as his eyes fluttered closed. The world around them faded to the background as he kissed her back. 

When they broke the kiss, Lando felt breathless, heart pounding in his chest as he looked at her.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” she confessed, cheeks flushed.

“Oh, probably about as long as he has,” Daniel said from his spot next to Carlos. 

“W-what?” she stammered, looking at the Australian with confusion written all over her face. Daniel and Carlos shared a look.

“Kids these days,” Daniel commented, earning him a chuckle from the Spaniard.

“He’s been in love with you for-.. Well, I think since always, no?” Carlos said, looking at Daniel for confirmation.

“Pretty sure since always, yes,” Daniel agreed with a nod. 

“I’m such a muppet,” she groaned, burying her face in Lando’s chest. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pulled back to look at her.

“Guess that makes two of us. Luckily we’ll have forever to make up for it,” he murmured, brushing her hair back behind her ear. She smiled back up at him, lifting up on her tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Oh my God, that was the cheesiest shit ever. Okay, come on lovebirds,” Daniel said with a roll of his eyes as he moved to the exit, but Lando could hear the smile in his voice. 

“I’ll pay for dinner to celebrate Lando finally finding the cojones to tell her,” Carlos added.

“But no sushi, right?” Lando was quick to ask, taking her hand in his as they followed the two older drivers. Carlos just laughed, holding the door open for them.

“Right?” he repeated, eyes flitting between Carlos and Daniel. 

“Don’t worry mate, I know a great restaurant. You’ll like it,” Carlos said, clasping him on the shoulder. Lando eyed him cautiously.

“Is it too late to back out of this and order in?” he whispered, turning to look at her, causing her to laugh. 

Welp, my first Lando fic officially happened. Honestly it was only a matter of time. The devil works hard, but the Lando girlies work harder

Wrote this as part of a kisses challenge I’m taking part in this year. Feel free to send in a request or suggestions!

#ask #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris oneshot #lando norris drabble #f1 fanfic #lando norris fluff #welp ivy it happened. was only a matter of time

[astrobei]

SUNI!!!!! can i maybe request byler + giggling while kissing🫢🫢 go crazy with it i know itll make me insanely giddy

liv !! absolutely anything for you !! this got away from me so fast and it's so. it's. well. you'll see. here's kiss prompt #29 - giggling while kissing

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Will remarks, raising an eyebrow at Mike over the top of his book. “What’s gotten into you?”

Mike just grins, closing the front door behind him. It’s five o'clock on a Thursday, meaning Mike’s had class from ten this morning almost straight through four p.m., with a brief break in between American Lit and his creative writing workshop where he’d run across campus to the good café for a bagel and a coffee. According to all logic and reason, Mike should not be in a good mood. He should, statistically speaking, be in a really shitty mood.

And yet.

“Nothing,” Mike says, dropping his bag to the floor, right there in the entrance to their apartment. “And what the hell? I got home, like, three seconds ago.”

Will keeps the same look fixed on him as Mike kicks his shoes off, sending them tumbling one after the other into the corner of the room. “Call it a certain je ne sais quoi,” Will replies, following Mike with his gaze as he immediately moves to pick up his shoes. “I can tell.”

Mike turns and squints. “You know French?”

“Sure,” Will laughs, then sets his book aside. He stretches, long and lazy along the length of the sofa, socked feet emerging from the ends of the blanket he’s got thrown over him. “Let’s go with that.”

“You don’t know French,” Mike announces. He would know. Will took Spanish with him for all four years of high school – four agonizing years of conjugating the past participle and imperfect subjunctive – and was even brave enough to attempt a brief foray into an introductory college class before finally calling it quits. Personally, Mike thinks it’s impressive Will lasted the semester. Mike had collected his high school credits and never looked back. “I would know.”

“Yeah?” Will leans back on the couch, watches Mike shuffle the rest of their shoes into place on the shoe rack. “Maybe I do.”

He doesn’t. “Prove it,” Mike says, then picks his bag up off the ground and plops it on top of the dining table. “Say something in French right now. Something romantic.”

“Bonjour,” Will says easily. “Mon ami.”

Mike squints even harder this time. “‘My friend’ is not a romantic thing to say, and also, you’re a liar.”

Will frowns. “How do you know French?”

“I don’t,” Mike laughs. “But I read a lot of Agatha Christie.”

Will gives him a weird look, a little incredulous and a little amused, then holds up the book he’d been reading. It’s Mike’s copy of Murder on the Orient Express. “Yeah, I know. You're unbelievable.”

“I’ve been looking for that,” Mike says, even though he absolutely hasn’t. “You thief.”

Will just smiles, beckoning Mike over to the couch with his free hand. “You love me,” he says, which is a lot closer to the mark than Mike would like Will’s rebuttals to his (entirely unserious) jabs to be.

Mike walks over, of course, because Will is right, and Mike loves him, and love makes you do crazy, stupid things – like being happy on a Thursday evening when your head hurts and your body hurts and all you want is to sleep straight through Friday afternoon. Frankly, it’s ridiculous how happy Mike feels. It’s a bit of an embarrassing look for him, actually.

“Hi,” Mike says, entirely unnecessarily, and lets Will pull him down with one hand. He lands sideways, sprawled halfway across Will’s lap, over the top of the absurdly fuzzy blanket they keep at the foot of the sofa.

Will smiles up at him. “Hey,” he replies, easy and warm. It’s also ridiculous, along with everything else, how soothing the single word is as it leaves Will’s mouth, how Mike’s oncoming headache ebbs, ever-so-slightly, at the sound. Will’s still got Mike’s book in one hand, but he folds a page down and sets it on the coffee table, then scoots over to make room, pressing his back up against the sofa cushions. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Mike sighs, tucking his face into Will’s neck and trying his hardest to not fall off the edge of the sofa. He wiggles his feet under the blanket too, tucks them under Will’s calves, the warm fleece of his pajama pants. “A little tired,” he admits, and Will lets out a sympathetic noise above him. “But good.”

“I’m glad,” Will murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Mike’s head. “And I know for a fact you’re in a weirdly good mood because I folded down the page of your book and you didn’t even yell at me.”

It takes a second for the words to land. Then– 

“Oh, you asshole,” Mike laughs, immediately twisting around in Will’s arms to look at his poor, innocent book lying on the coffee table’s coaster-dotted surface. “You were testing me?”

“You told me you didn’t care about that anymore,” Will points out, one arm wrapping instinctively around Mike’s waist as he moves. “You said you were working on it.”

“I am working on it!” Mike protests. “It’s a secondhand copy anyway, it was already dog-eared and– it’s not about that! I just think you’re so–”

“Mhm?”

“So ridiculous,” Mike says halfheartedly, as Will drops a light kiss to his nose, then his cheek. “I’m in a normal mood. A normal, fine, ordinary–”

“Sure–”

“–and I’m not any more happy than usual–”

“–uh huh–”

“Will!” Mike laughs, breaking away from Will’s vice grip, pulling back from where Will had been leaning in to press another kiss to his cheek. “Oh my god.”

Will just smiles at him. His hair is a bit messed up from lying on the couch, and Mike can feel himself warming up, slowly, from the late February chill he’d braved to walk from the bus stop back to their apartment. “Sorry,” he says, a bit apologetic, a bit pleased, and entirely genuine. “You’re just so fun.”

“I hate you,” Mike whispers. He’s sure that any hope of the phrase having even the slightest semblance of effect is vanquished immediately by the way he says it – breathless and adoring and totally, completely lovesick. “You’re infuriating.”

“You love me,” Will repeats, looking even more happy with himself than before, like getting Mike riled up and flustered is the highlight of his day. He pushes a strand of hair out of Mike’s eyes and asks, more seriously, “Are you hungry? You want something to eat?”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cook for me?” Mike asks, as if they don’t know a grand total of maybe five recipes between the two of them.

“Sure,” Will says. “Yeah. It’ll be romantic.”

Last Mike checked, they needed to get groceries, and he’s not sure what they even have that could feasibly be put together for a meal, but Will’s weirdly good at that sort of thing – throwing the most random ingredients together until it resembles something vaguely edible. Not gourmet, by any means, and sometimes not even good, but, like – if you need caloric sustenance, he’s your guy.

Mike isn’t sure how he feels about another one of those meals, though. Especially when he considers the stockpile of tuna cans in the pantry that’s been there for about a million years. He gives Will a suspicious look. “Like what?”

“Don’t give me that look,” Will says, then shoves gently at Mike’s side to get him to stand up. He follows, kicking the blanket off into a haphazard pile on the end of the sofa, and trailing Mike into the kitchen. “Mac and cheese. From a box.”

Kraft dinner sounds safe enough. “Okay,” Mike says happily. “Thank you.”

He hops up onto the counter while Will digs around the cupboard for a pot, then goes about filling it with water. The kitchen is silent for a while, save for the low humming of the fridge, the sharp clicking of the stove as it turns on. Mike watches him move, a low flame of affection bursting to life in tandem with the gas-fueled warmth against his skin. It’s probably dangerous to be sitting so close to the stove when it’s on, but whatever. It’s the only strip of counter that has enough space for Mike to climb onto and still be this close to Will.

“What’s up with you?” Will asks, pulling a box of mac and cheese off of the cupboard shelf and peering curiously up at him.

Mike, a little belatedly, realizes he’s smiling. “Nothing,” he says, as Will sets the box down on the counter next to Mike’s thigh. “Why?”

“I don’t believe you,” Will says, then slots himself easily into the space between Mike’s legs, rests two hands on his hips. “You never smile this much on a Thursday.”

“You’re so hung up on it being a Thursday,” Mike hums, as Will presses his fingers into Mike’s skin, pushing up the soft fabric of his sweatshirt just a little. “Why are you– hey, that tickles!”

Will just grins, watching Mike squirm with no small amount of joy on his face. “Watch out for the fire,” he says, calm and collected and cool as a cucumber, like he wasn’t the one that nearly got him burned in the first place.

“Watch out for the– oh, shut up,” Mike says. Will laughs, low and pleased, and leans forward, tilting his face up.

“Come down here,” he says, frowning. “I can’t kiss you when you’re all the way up there.”

“Not my fault I’m taller than you,” Mike mumbles, but slides off the counter anyway. He lands a bit awkwardly, stumbles half a step forward before Will steadies him.

“I’m hung up on it being a Thursday,” Will says, tucking a kiss to the side of Mike’s cheek, right under his ear, “because you’re always miserable on Thursdays.”

“I am not,” Mike laughs, as Will pulls back. “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re up early and you have a million classes and you never get enough time to actually eat during the day and you never let me forget it,” Will says, the answer a little too immediate for Mike’s liking. He steps closer, presses Mike back up against the counter until the cold linoleum tiles are digging into the small of his back. “And you’re a menace when your blood sugar is low. Is that it? Did you eat a real lunch today? Are you currently operating under normal human physiology?”

Mike thinks back to the solitary bagel he’d eaten in approximately seven bites while running between the English building and the Communications building. “Um. Unless you count me getting an everything bagel instead of plain, then no.”

“Then what is it?” Will asks. “I can tell, you’re so– you’re being so–”

Mike gives him a strange look. “I don’t think I’m being anything,” he says. It’s true – he doesn’t feel any different from normal, except maybe a little warmer and a little fuzzier and a little bit more hungry than on his average day. “What’s your deal? What am I being?”

“Smilier,” Will says, tilting his head like he’s looking for a nonexistent giveaway in Mike’s face. His eyes dart over Mike’s features, slowly, drinking them in.

“That’s not a word.”

“If I guess,” Will starts, ignoring him, “will you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to guess– Will!” Mike shrieks softly, as Will peppers a quick succession of kisses across his cheek and down his neck. “Fuck you, that tickles!”

“Good grade on a paper?” Will hums against his throat, which isn’t really doing much to help with the tickling thing. Mike tries to pull away, but Will’s grip is steadfast, unyielding. “Heard back from your advisor?”

“No, and no,” Mike gets out. “Nothing happened!”

“Don’t believe you,” Will murmurs, then kisses Mike over the bridge of his nose. “Class got canceled?”

“Thankfully not,” Mike laughs, “because we were peer reviewing today– Will, oh my god, why are you–”

“Be honest with me,” Will says, squinting slightly, “are you on drugs?”

“How the hell would I be on drugs,” Mike stares, a grin spreading, wide and giddy, across his face. His chest is aching from laughter, cheeks already tired from smiling so hard. It’s ridiculous how often he feels like this around Will. He didn’t know you could feel so exhausted in such a wonderful way, by such a wonderful thing. A welcome ache, soothing and grounding and exhilarating all at once. “I don’t understand you.”

“Then tell me,” Will says quietly, leaning in again. He kisses Mike, soft and intentional, thumbs rubbing circles over his hips where his crewneck had ridden up earlier, long and slow enough that Mike forgets about it, for a second – the teasing and the prodding and the interrogation – and the warm ache of laughter gives way to something smoother, steadier. He wants to sink into the feeling like a warm bath – or maybe a dry macaroni noodle in a pot of boiling water.

“The water,” Mike mumbles, barely decipherable. “It’s boiling.”

“It’s just water,” Will says, “it’ll be fine,” and kisses him again.

That’s a good point. “Okay,” Mike whispers, and lets the feeling overtake him – Will’s hands, steady and warm where they’re pressed against Mike’s skin. Where his hair is still damp from his shower, because Will is ridiculous and lame and has one morning class on Thursdays and gets to lay around at home for the rest of the day.

Will presses another kiss to Mike’s lips, leans in once, twice, and–

Thud.

“Ow,” Mike groans, pulling away just long enough to squeeze his eyes shut and rub at the back of his head, where the cabinet had oh-so-rudely refused to move out of the way for him. “Great.”

“Mike,” Will says in mild disbelief, biting down on his lower lip. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks a little flushed. God, Mike loves him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he breathes out, smiling. “I’m– yeah, that was so stupid.”

“So stupid,” Will grins. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Mike groans again, exasperated and drawn-out, and that’s it – Will laughs, bright and happy and eyes going all crinkles at the corners and moves in to kiss him again.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Mike protests, but he’s laughing too, catching Will’s soft exhales as they leave his chest, leaning forward to press more of his weight into him. Will moves easily, lets Mike grin against his mouth – wide and happy and far too pleased for his own good.

“Okay, don’t tell me,” Will says at last, pressing a final kiss to Mike’s cheek before pulling away. “I’m just happy you’re happy.”

“Will,” Mike starts, then reels him back in with one hand on his wrist. Will looks startled, eyes wide as Mike catches him by the other hand too. “I was– nothing happened, I swear. I was just thinking about you earlier.”

Will blinks. “You were thinking about me?”

“Yeah,” Mike shrugs. Will says this like it’s a rare, wondrous occasion – Mike thinking about him, that is – and not something that usually happens during most of Mike’s waking hours and some of his unconscious ones too. “I was thinking about you. You just– you make me feel better. I didn’t notice anything was different.”

Will just looks at him. “So you’re not on drugs?”

Mike drops his head to Will’s shoulder and sighs, long and bereaved. Will laughs, low and breathy next to his ear, wraps both arms around Mike’s waist, and holds on. “Seriously?”

“I’m kidding,” Will murmurs. “That’s sweet. You– really? What were you thinking about?”

This is embarrassing.

“Just you,” Mike admits, a little muffled into the fabric of Will’s sweater. “Just– coming home to you, after a long day.”

“Sap,” Will says, saccharine and so fond that it seems to be spilling right out of him. Mike can feel it, all the ways Will loves him, like it’s a physical thing that’s taking shape under his hands. They’re what make Mike think about him so often, all the time, in the middle of a painstakingly long lecture or seminar. Turning memories like these over in his mind, the simple comfort in knowing his day is going to get better as soon as Will gets his arms around him.

“Shut up,” Mike says. He turns to kiss along the curve of Will’s cheekbone, right under his eye, where the skin has gone wonderfully pink and creased with laughter, then pulls away. “The water’s been boiling for, like, ten minutes, by the way. Just so you know.”

#the actual giggling while kissing part was like 1.5 paragraphs #sorry liv #i hope u like this anyway :^) #saw this prompt n just #mmmmm m m m mm mmmm mm mm #domestic college byler my most beloved #god i'll never get sick of writing them #i have 234239837234 scenarios for them in my mind fr #n e ways #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fun sized fics

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Wilbert's Worst

Right, so I really was open to having my mind changed on The Worst One but nobody’s argument has budged me.

I was going to write a complete, balanced essay on The Worst W. Awdry Book, but I’m a) mired in the research phase (hey if anyone knows someone with an encyclopedic knowledge of Tom and Jerry hit me up, for real) and b) right now I wanna talk about the characters and their Beloved Dynamics instead. 

So I'm just gonna get this out of the way so I can post the poll and move on to answering fun asks and watching Tom and Jerry in peace. Behold: a salty and unbalanced review.

Wilbert’s biggest failure of a children’s storybook? 

Henry the Green Engine 

Ohhh… because of the, uh, ra —?

Because of the racism, yes!

Oh. You do know that since 1972 they’ve republished it without the n-slur? 

Good for them. Two things: 

1. I know it used to be there, I’m never able to read it without knowing it was there in the first edition.

2. I consistently try, when ranking the books, to consider them in the context in which they came out. Because of this, I don’t like using “things that happened later” (like a new character never being properly used again or whatever) against the book. This helps me evaluate the author’s successes and failures against what they were trying to achieve when they wrote it vs what I would most want (blorbo content). It helps me not bring to bear the whole weight of fanon and fandom on a text that should be able to stand or fall on its own. Tl;dr I try to read the books like a guy who picked it up in 1951, or whatever. 

And yeah, if I’d bought this when it came out it would have had the slur. I’m going to judge it accordingly. 

Look, racism is bad, no argument, but does that mean the book as a whole must be condemned? 

Yeah, I think the slur and the “aaaand suddenly, blackface! heeheehee” bullshit fuck over the entire book, game over. Go directly to jail, do not collect $200. 

The Railway Series is not a work of high art or deep thorny complex literature. The books are meant for children — small children, at that. Children small enough to get bedtime stories read to them. The main goal of each book (especially this early on — you do have to manage secondary priorities like “pleasing the long-time fanbase” the longer you go, but right now we’re only 6 books into the series) is to create a happy imaginary world to enhance childhoods and family lives… to impart to other parents and kids a similar cosy happiness to that the author and his own kids enjoyed when he was workshopping/drafting the stories for them. When we say “children’s book” we really do mean little’uns — these average 1.25 full-color illustrations per page!

And these books sold in large numbers. This means it’s a certainty that somewhere in 1951 there was a Black family who owned the whole series, who went out to the shops, whose kid was like “ooh! Henry gets a book, neat…,” who like everyone else enjoyed the wild ride of Henry’s inspection and coal and wreck and rebuild… only to get verbally spat on one page from the end. 

Real mood-killer there. Epic fail, as the cool kids used to say in my youth. 

All right, fine, cool kids never said that. Anyway, statistically speaking there was certainly even more than one family that got that experience. Not to mention the non-Black families who even in 1951 were like “... wtf? i’d smack my kid if they ever said a word like that around me, geez. no.” Just a lot of people who had the light the book was kindling in them snuffed out all at once. 

You can actually be totally racist and your book not commit creative suicide on the penultimate page! Awdry flubbed his job of 'bestselling books-for-six-year-olds' here. Creative failure. Unforced error. Automatic zero. 

But times were different then, you have to consider it in the context of the time. 

1951 U.K. was not the nadir of multiracial equality or Black power, but jfc. I can assure you that over 99% of children’s books published that year in the Anglosphere managed to not use the n-slur. 

All right, all right. That was bad. But this feels off-topic. If you had never known about what used to be “Henry’s Sneeze,” would you still rank the entire book as dead last in the Wilbert Awdry corpus? 

Not dead last, but it is not a strong book. “Coal” and “The Flying Kipper” are super-interesting as material for Henry, but after that the book kind of falls off a cliff; the intrigue drops dramatically. The railway incidents chosen to make stories of are all solid choices, but it was not only “Sneeze” where Awdry’s handling of the material feels clumsy and weird. (And I’m not even talking here of the “heehee blackface — ain’t i a stinker?” gag in “Sneeze.”) 

But… “The Flying Kipper”? C’mon. It’s a superb story and no book that contains it can be the absolute worst in the series. 

“TFK” remains easily the best single TVS episode ever – but a lot of that is down to Britt and David’s artistry and judgment. 

Don’t get me wrong, a full-on railway wreck makes interesting material. But I don’t think the book does nearly as much with it as it could (and I’m trying sooooo hard here to forget about the amazing TVS adaptation, as I think it REALLY shows Awdry up. Even so, the storytelling here is surprisingly tepid and low-stakes). I get that Awdry probably wanted to lean into the comic angle and not make Henry’s condition afterwards seem too grave, in order to ensure the material wasn’t too dark for his young audience? (*mutters* again, a level of tender consideration for his readers’ youth that went right out the window when it came to small Black kids, evidently coz he couldn’t imagine that they read) Understandable, laudable — but if he outright refuses* to make the wreck too dramatic or scary then, well, then the wreck isn’t real scary or dramatic. And it can’t save the rest of the book from its flaws. 

*For all I know it could have been the publishers who insisted that the wreck be made preschooler-safe, that’s possible (although it’s also consistent with Awdry’s brand of humor and his overall low degree of emotionalism in his writing). Either way, though, the end result book is what it is and it will be judged accordingly. 

In addition to not being as exciting as many remember... @trainsupessandhuntresses asked me once if I thought some of Awdry's stories were "mean-spirited." I had to assent vigorously. And a surprisingly high proportion of those "mean" moments are in Henry the Green Engine? For some reason? It’s not just the racism. Awdry was not in the game to give Henry a deserved happy ending, he’d wanted to kill him off (the fuck?) and when his publishers prevented him (I don’t say this often, especially since I love how salty the Awdrys get about their publishers, but this in case good job, publishers!!) he wrote “TFK” with the primary motivation of giving Henry a new engine basis. Any soft or hearty emotions we get out of the deal are a side-effect — the only emotion that was fueling Awdry as he wrote this was spite, spite and a weird resentment towards his poor, long-suffering, invaluable illustrator. (I don’t blame Awdry for being frustrated that the engine illustrations were continually inaccurate or confusing, but I do think it’s weird to read all this great Henry material knowing that it was written with such poor grace.) 

So his ‘happy Henry’ stuff feels perfunctory; his Percy interlude is just brutal (why did you have to drag Percy into Henry’s book purely to give him a fuck-up, a scolding, and a messy dunce cap?); Gordon’s savaging of Henry for being too happy after recovering from a near-death experience is such an incredibly low point for Gordon that it’s hard for me to accept it as canon (there’s being proud, boastful, and self-absorbed, and then there’s being the straight-up raccoon dumpster fire Gordon is in that scene). Oh, and I think “call the police [local constabulary, doesn’t bear firearms]” woulda probably a less reckless way of dealing with the rock-throwing youths than the sneeze of hot locomotive ashes, which of course the Fat Controller doesn’t like, that shit coulda been real dangerous! Mind, there are small rays of kindness throughout that do get me (the interactions between Henry and his crew feeling to me the least perfunctory and most heartfelt), but this is overall such a mean-spirited book. God. It starts off with such a gentle story (almost a non-story, if you’re in it purely for the “railway incidents” game and not character drama), but in short order the vibes just sorta suck. At least in other RWS books, when the vibes are off, they’re usually off near the beginning and then improve by the end. This one gets worse as it goes on. Oof. Don’t like that. 

Also, the last page is sooooo lame. I suspect the publisher strong-armed Awdry into writing most of it so that at least the slur wasn’t on the last page of the book... and if Awdry had any idea of how much he’d just empowered Henry and all his fans in this book he shouldn’t have found it hard to find 50 extra words to sum things up. As it was, he’s just filling space and running out the clock, lol. Lame wrap-up. Boring. As usual when it comes to every little thing about this book, Britt and David closed this up better (mind, their closer – “He had taught Gordon and silly boys a lesson, with a whistle and a sneeze” – also sucked. But at least it was blessedly short.)

Didn’t you once list HtGE on a list of your favorite Wilbert Awdry books? 

I did list it as one of the books that “at one time or another” have been my favorite in the series. Unfortunately in the case of HtGE, that was back when I really couldn’t read a story that I knew from the TVS without mentally substituting the adaptation into my brain as I read… largely overriding the actual text. Plus, everything I knew from TVS as a kid kind of automatically got a halo effect. Plus, I was super into Henry’s arc. 

The first time I read HtGE after calming down and actually reading all the books as books... massive disappointment. There is such a gap there between what I'd thought the book said (all our incredible fanon work overanalyzing and headcanoning Henry and building this beautiful fantasy arc about disability!) vs. what it actually said (limp and careless writing, mean vibes, airbrushed n-slur, bad aftertaste). 

I do think there is some stuff about the development of Awdry’s storytelling technique here that is interesting (again, Tom and Jerry superfans reading this, please shoot me a message!) but it doesn’t counteract everything else. 

At least we’re over the racism stuff? 

Nah, I’m not over it, actually. 

#showed his whole ass #an rws book shouldn’t leave a nasty taste in your mouth #but! here we are #okay this rant was not as short as i thought it'd be #but again. there will be a proper analysis in the fullness of time. #henry the green engine (rws) #rws discussion #racism tw #slur mention tw

[criminalmindswhore]

Family Affair - The Smile of a Child

TW: the word whore, child abuse, past relationships, murder, violence, adultery 

Authors Note: The title of each of the chapters is a song title, happy listening. 

PS: This chapter is named after the song  Reid played with the little boy in an episode.

There was an awkward tension in the air as we exited the room and into the hallway. She stopped out of sight from my sister, but not the team. She turned and looked at me arms crossed, "Y/N, we haven't spoken since that night and I need to clear the air." You fidgeted with your hands not looking at her. You took a calming breath trying to force the tears in your eyes away. You looked up at the light and blinked a few times. "I'm sorry Amber, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just needed a clean cut from this place, obviously, it didn't work but I never planned on coming back here," you spoke as calmly as possible, memories of that day ringing in your ears. "You didn't need to end it that way, but I'm sure you know that now. We've both grown and matured." She chuckled at the stupid ways you both had as teenagers. You didn't speak, eyes still fixed on the ground. "Y/N look at me please," she pleaded knowing it was the only way to get you to talk to her. 

Spencer saw the two of you and noticed your body language, "Emily, is there Y/N okay?" Emily turned on the desk she was propped on to look at you, she knew you probably had a lot of ghosts here. She noticed how you fidgeted, and how small you looked. She's never seen you so small, "I'm sure it's probably about her parents." She had an inkling it was more but she didn't want to assume. Spencer nodded before continuing on about the statistics of murders in small towns like yours. Emily tried to focus on him, but she was worried about you. 

"Amber I said horrible things to you that night. You didn't deserve any of that. I was angry at my parents, at the world, at everything. I didn't want you to be here anymore either, or Kate," You paused to look away from her eyes for a moment to keep from crying, guilt washing over you. "I'm sorry I called you that." The word rang in your head louder than the station's noise and clatter, whore whore whore whore whore. "I forgave you a long time ago, that's what I wanted to tell you Y/N. We were kids, you were leaving your sister in an impossible situation. Y/N I think that's why he took their," she didn't want to say it, so you nodded, "Should I tell them or you?" You smiled, she always knew how hard it was for you to talk about it. It made you feel a little warm knowing after all this time and change, she still knew you somehow. "I can tell them, just be there for me?" Amber smiled widely at you. She pulled you into a deep hug, shocking Emily. You hated being touched but you just sank into her grasp, resting your head in the crook of her neck. Emily watched as Amber's hands sat lower than friendly. A twang of pain hit her heart. You pulled from Amber wiping the stray tear that escaped, "Let me tell Kate that I'm going to go help the team. Could you call our grandmother to come be with her?" Amber was taken aback, "You're sure?" You shook away the chill that crept up your spine, "Yeah, I don't want her alone right now. Just because my relationship with the woman is ruined doesn't mean she's not still Kate's Nana." 

"Alright, Y/N whenever you're ready." Hotch gave you a reassuring nod. You stood in front of the team, Amber beside you. They all sat around a table in the privacy of a conference room. You looked at their faces before starting. "I am going to tell you guys a lot of information so be ready. It's a lot and I know it won't change your perception of me. I trust you guys and it's vital for this case." They all nodded giving you reassuring looks. You opened up the can of worms you left untouched on a shelf for a decade, fuck this. Amber could sense your nervousness and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "My parents were horrible to Kate and I growing up. They were the kind of parents where nothing was good enough to please them. This led to a lot of screaming, belittling, and hitting. I remember one day in particular when I placed second in the state track meet. My parents were pissed and the second we got home all hell broke loose, they went off on me. My dad threw me into the fridge so hard it left a dent." The team looked at you with nothing but sadness and pain for you. You had to look away, "Amber, sorry, Detective Jones and I, think that's why the hands are gone. They can't hurt us anymore. That narrows it down a lot because barely anyone knew about it. Everyone knew my parents were strict with us, but every parent in this town is. You almost have to be with how easy it is to fall into bad habits." I winced remembering the summer I fell off the wagon and how hard Dad hit me when he found out. "Y/N, we need to know everyone who knew," Hotch spoke in a gentle tone, I nodded. Amber laid her hand on my shoulder, "I'm on that list." She stepped to stand closer to me, and Emily noticed immediately. The team took this information and started looking at the case again. You sat down at the table and wrote down 5 names, 

1. Amber Jones

2. Gloria Y/L/N, your Nana

3. Mildred Jones, your Mom's best friend

4. Pastor Brown, the pastor at your church 

5. Paul Brooks, your Dad's best friend

Hotch took the list and stepped out to call Garcia. The rest of the team left you alone with Amber, you just sat there still and quiet. Amber sat in the chair beside you and grabbed your hand. It felt natural to have her comfort you again, you missed her, but not in the way she obviously missed you. You let her comfort you though, you were allowed to be selfish right now, right? 

Just as you felt yourself coming back to the ground, your Nana walked into the station demanding to see you. Your world felt so odd, 10 years ago you left this place with no intentions of returning and now you were about to speak to Gloria. You let go of Amber's hand and walked out of the room. The second she saw you, she ran to you throwing her arms around you, "Oh sweetie I missed you." You didn't hug her back. Her whole demeanor shifted when she saw Amber follow you out of the room. She let go of you and readjusted her purse on her shoulder, "I see you still haven't come to your senses." Her voice was full of venom. "Gloria, please not now. Please." You pleaded with her, the death of your parents was enough, you didn't need her homophobia. She stared into your eyes, you looked hollow. She left you alone and went to search for Kate. Amber patted your back before following her to question her. Emily was quick to take her place, but never touched you. You were grateful. She smiled at you, "Wanna go get some air?" You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "Yes please, I didn't think this would be so much for me." She followed your lead out of the doors and out into the sunshine. 

The town was quiet, with a few people walking their dogs. You started down the block knowing this place like the back of your hand. Emily stuck her hand in her back pockets. You took a deep breath smelling the town you had not missed for one single second, "I never thought I would be on this street again. Nothing ever happens here." Emily's interest peaked, "Nothing?" You giggled, "A couple of teenagers caught in the backseat of some vandalism, but never this." You turned to look at her over your shoulder, "The last murder was in 1974, a wife caught her husband cheating and chopped off his you know what." Emily laughed out loud, "Sounds like he deserved it." Your mouth hung open before you smacked her arm, "Emily Prentiss! You can't say things like that!" You laughed, and Emily smiled widely at you. "There's that laugh." You came to a stop outside the local sports bar and turned around to stand in front of her. She always had a way to make you feel better, Amber just made you feel everything more. Emily was the light in your dark, dark mind, "Thank you for taking me out of there. I feel like I can breathe. My Nana and I haven't spoken in 10 years." Emily's brows furrowed, "That's the first time you've called her Nana and not Gloria." Your smile faltered, "Yeah, I always wanted a relationship with my grandparents but after they found out about Amber and I kissing at church, that wasn't a possibility. They even tried to send me away." Emily shivered, knowing the pain. "You're not alone Y/N, ever. You can always talk to me, I might relate more than you know." Your eyes snapped to hers, a pain now visible in them. "Em-" "Y/N, it's okay. I'm okay." She knew you were going to apologize, Amber could never guess what you were going to say. You gave her a small smile. "Ready to head back?" You shook your head, pulling her into the sports bar, "You have to try Paul's wings. Honestly, it's probably the only thing I can think about eating. I ate her almost every night after getting yelled at by my dad." Emily laughed at you being excited over wings. 

"Paul!" You leaned against the bar, Emily standing beside you. A goofy smile on her face at how you went from crying to smiling. "Y/N! Welcome back kiddo!" A burly man appeared from the back and came around the bar wrapping you in a bear hug, the kind of hug a dad gives you. He kept his hands on your shoulders and looked at your face, concern written all over his expression, "How are you doing Goose?" Emily quirked her eyebrows, "Goose?" You laughed and looked at her, "I had a tendency to attack unprovoked when I was a kid because I was always angry, for obvious reasons." You turned back to Paul, "I'm doing okay. Being back here has been the worst part honestly. I never wanted to come back and now I'm gonna see every familiar face due to the circumstances." You wiped your hands on your pants, Paul sensed your closed-off manners and went back behind the bar. "Do you want your usual?" Your jaw dropped, "There's no way you remember my order Paul it's been 10 years." He laughed and you two spoke at the same time, "6 buffalo wings with tot and extra ranch. No celery." All 3 of you laughed. This sense of familiarity felt like a breath of fresh air in a place it's hard to breathe. Paul disappeared into the kitchen and Emily tapped your shoulder, "Are we splitting 6 wings?" Shit. "Paul make it 12 wings!" He shouted back in the affirmative. "Sorry, my head is everywhere." You gave her a nervous smile, "Y/N, don't apologize for anything right now. There is a lot going on right now, you are here of all of places." She grabbed your hand, her skin as soft as feathers. You gave her a thankful smile. 

After scarfing down your wings you and Emily returned to the station where things were heating up. You walked in to see your grandma yelling at Hotch. "I don't care what you're saying, your actions are showing agents not doing anything." You sighed and approached them, standing beside Hotch making it very clear what side you were on here. "Gloria, it takes time to figure out who it is. We can't just go and question every single person in this town, it could spook whoever did this into fleeing or acting out. For your safety, this team's safety, and the safety of innocent people, we have to take more time figuring out who to talk to," Her face fell and she stared into you, "Please, go back with Kate and wait. I know it's frustrating, I know it seems like we aren't making progress but we are the best at what we do." Gloria took a ragged breath and stormed off. "Hotch I'm sorry, she's a pain." Hotch rubbed your shoulder, in the most boss way possible, "Don't worry about it. Why don't you and JJ go talk to Kate and ask if she's noticed anything going on? Reid and Rossi are at the scene right now."  

"Kate, have you noticed anything weird going on with the parents?" Kate shook her head, "No, they've been doing the same routine. No new names or faces." JJ spoke up, "Has there been someone they weren't close with in the past that they've been seeing more recently?" Kate looked up at you, "Um, yeah. Amber was at the house last week." You looked out the window at her, "Did they ever say why?" JJ's voice was soft, "They said she was looking for Y/N for them, trying to figure out where she worked now. They used her to keep up to date with her." A chill ran down your spine, why did they care all of a sudden? They could've just called. JJ looked at you, "Y/N do you think she could be responsible for this?" You looked back at her, "No, she wouldn't hurt a fly." She never even hated you for what you did. "Kate, have you noticed a shift in behavior in any of your parent's friends?" Paul immediately came to mind. Paul was the only one of their friends who ever saw an issue with how they treated you two. "Paul, my dad's best friend got really distant when I moved out. It was almost like he put on a front with them until Y/N and I both moved out." You smiled at Kate, trying to comfort knowing it's not easy to talk about their parents in general, but especially now. "Okay, Kate one more question. Did your parents have any work done on the house and have people in and out?" Kate nodded, "They were renovating the upstairs rooms. Dad wanted an office and Mom wanted a craft room. They had people in and out for a couple of weeks now." JJ stood up, "Thank you, Kate." JJ left the room, you sat there for a moment lingering. "Y/N, can you be honest with me? Do you think this was a stranger?" You sighed, "No." You left the room and met with the rest of the team in the conference room. "This wasn't a stranger and I hate to say it but I think it was Paul." Your tone was cold, with no emotion in your voice. It made the whole team look at you with concern, "Please don't, I am fine." Morgan went to speak, "Derek, don't." You picked at your fingers. "Okay, Paul?" 

After hours and hours of looking at Paul's movement the day your parents died, Hotch sent you away to go rest. The team wasn't going to rest until they solved this, but Hotch knew it was an emotional day for you. "Hotch I'm fine." He raised an eyebrow at you, "Go find a couch, go take a a nap." Emily butt in after him, "I promise, I'll wake you if anything happens." You knew by the way she and Hotch looked at you, that you were not going to win this. You peeked in on Kate who was sleeping before finding a couch in the corner. Amber soon found you, "Do you need a blanket?" You lay down and shook your head. She left you alone but not before she rubbed your head for a moment. The comfort felt nice but it wasn't the person you wanted to comfort you. 

You wanted Emily. Almost as if you were thinking out loud, she appeared. Sitting by your feet, "Do you need anything?" She had the sweetest look in her eyes and you felt yourself warm up from it alone, "Can you hold my hand?" She nodded and adjusted to sit comfortably around you, she grabbed your hands and traced shapes with her other. The warmth from her hand and her perfume brought you enough comfort to close your eyes. She whispered something as you fell asleep, but you couldn't hear her as exhaustion took over. 

You woke up to Reid calling your name, "Y/N we found something but we need your help." You shot up immediately and found the team standing around the corner. "Y/N did Paul ever mention a relationship with your mother?" You came to a full stop, "What? Like an affair?" Morgan nodded. "I mean I don't think Paul would do that, but my mom having an affair wouldn't be surprising. Paul is one of the best people, I've always loved and trusted him." Reid shifted, his tell. "What did you find?" You glared at him, he would be the easiest to break. "We found pictures on an online forum of Paul and your mom kissing in the sports bar." Decades of trust you've built with that man shattered. "Mom cheated?" Kate spoke from behind you, Gloria beside her. You didn't even turn to face them, "Yeah, she did." Gloria cursed, "That whore, cheating on my son." Your jaw tightened. "Don't call her that." Gloria took a step towards you, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. "What was that?" You finally turned to face her, "Don't call her a whore. Your son abused all 3 of us. He got so into her head that she started hurting us too. God forbid she have an ounce of happiness before she died." She was silent, she knew you were right. "Kate let's go get some food." She walked out, Kate following behind her. Emily laid a hand on your shoulder, "We know Paul didn't kill them now Y/N. He wouldn't kill the woman he was with." You nodded. 

You looked at Hotch, "I think Amber killed them." You spoke quietly so that none of the officers overheard you. He crossed his arms over his chest and thought for a second, "Everyone in the room, Y/N explain."

#emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminalmindsxreader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #derek morgan

[cumsuga]

Wasted Times - A Valentine's Day Special

jungkook x fem!reader

genre: SMUT, fluff, angst, romance

warnings: Losing of virginities, Sweetboy!Jungook, fingering, Jungkook has a thigh kink lowkey, unprotected sex (Please be smart and be safe, use a condom), mentions of Plan B, choking, blood, I tried to make the first time fluffy

word count: 3k

18+(Minors DNI)

You set the last of your boxes in your dorm room. You look around the room triumphantly; you did it, you flew across the world to go to school, and thankfully you get to spend all four years here. You never thought you’d get accepted into Yonsei University because your extracurriculars were nothing extraordinary, just cheer and volleyball. Your dad was also so happy for you that he decided to pay your way through college only on the condition that you use your degree to find a job straight away after you graduate. Which you're okay with, it's the least you could do, considering.

As you're standing there taking in your victory, someone who you assume is your roommate comes in. She's gorgeous, almost too pretty to be an actual human. You're staring at her in bi-panic. 

"Hi, you're Y/N, right? We emailed about being roommates. It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She smiles brightly at you. She’s radiant and so damn attractive.

“Oh, yeah, Momo, right? Do you need help moving anything in?” She shakes her head and tells you her parents paid for the movers. 

“So we didn't really get to discuss a whole lot in email, but tell me more about yourself, Y/N” she plops herself on your bed, looking exhausted from doing nothing, but again she’s so pretty you’re absolutely distracted.

She props herself up on her elbows to look at you, “Oh well, uh, I just moved here from Y/C, and I’m double majoring in Korean and Business Administration, with a minor in Music Composition. What about you?” you unpack a box, and start setting up your side of the room.

“I’m Momo Hirai, obvi. I’m 19 and from Japan. My major is also Business Admin. I’m also in dance. Part of my scholarship is for dance, btw. OH! On the way up here, I heard there is going to be a huge party to welcome the frosh class. It’s two weeks after syllabus week. We should go.” You look at her with wide eyes. You’re not a huge partier, never having good experiences during high school. 

Honestly, high school was hell for you. It didn’t matter how affluent your family was; you being the ‘weird’ girl that liked anime and manga always made you the butt of everyone's joke, not to mention that you didn't really grow into your body until senior year. Then, everyone wanted you, but by then, you were over the high school bullshit and ready to go to college. So now here you are, and hopefully, things are different here.

“Well, I’m not much of a partier, but I’ll give it a chance, I guess.” You smile at her, setting your laptop on your desk. She's clapping her hands in excitement. 

Syllabus week flies by, and you’ve spotted a couple of cuties in your statistics class. One stood out more than the others. A few times, you caught him staring at you when you went to talk to your professor about assignments. His big doe-like eyes, so pretty and gentle looking, you decide to get his number. You walk up to him after class, trying to muster all the courage you need to talk to him.

You tap him on the shoulder, and the minute he turns around, your mind goes blank, “Hi, uh….” He's giving you an empathetic look but is smiling, waiting for you to say something, but you don't. The silence is getting awkward. So he speaks up.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. I’ve seen you around. What's your name?” We cocks his head to meet your eyes that have been staring at his shoes since he started talking.

“I— I’m Y/N. I’m sorry, I’ve never really talked to a guy. before..” Your cheeks are the deepest shade of red. Who did you think you were? You tried to hype yourself up but failed miserably, and now you’re embarrassed.

“You’re so cute.” He chuckles sweetly, “You don’t have to be embarrassed or shy. I don’t bite.” 

You smile at him, finally making eye contact, “I was going to ask for your number. You’re kind of handsome, so I got flustered.” You're fidgeting absent mindedly.

“Making the first move, my kinda girl. Of course, I’ll give you my number. It's 82XXXXXXXXXX. I have to go now but text me. Maybe we can go on a date or something. Bye, Y/N” He smiles and then exits the classroom. 

Over the next few days, you and Jungkook text all day and all night, even falling asleep on facetime with each other. You like him a lot, so you ask him to accompany you to the ‘Frosh Fest.’ From what he says, it’s a week of partying and drinking; the college sponsors get everyone to mingle and unwind after the first couple of weeks on campus. The graduating class is the host and usually the one to plan the festival. You tell him you don’t drink much, so it’d be nice to have someone you could talk to there because Momo tells you her girlfriend is flying from Japan to see her, having taken a gap year to travel. 

The week of the festival comes. You and momo are in your dorm room getting ready when Jungkook calls, “Hi, I think I’m outside your room. Are you ready?”

You get giddy and immediately open the door, and there he is, the most beautiful man you’ve laid your eyes on. In all black, a myriad of tattoos peaking out of the cuff of his jacket. You’re also wearing all black, your luscious thighs peeking out of a black miniskirt. And you watch his eyes rake over you stopping on your thighs for a little longer than the rest of your body.

“God... you look… Magnificent.” He swallows thickly, mouth watering at the sight of you.

You spin in a circle pouting slightly. “Really? I don't think I care for the skirt. Come in, though. I think I might change.” He joins you and momo in the room before she tells you that her girlfriend is downstairs waiting for her, so she leaves.

You start going through all your skirts before deciding on a black Louis Vuitton wool mini skirt. “You mind if I change?” looking over at him, he’s blushing. Looking like a tomato, “You okay?”

“Uhm yeah, I’m fine. We’ve just never seen each other… naked.” He awkwardly adjusts on the bed, and you smile, throwing a pillow at him.

“You dork, I have shorts on under this.” Then a thought crosses your mind; maybe you want him to see you naked, be your first. Yeah, you know you’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, but you feel comfortable with him. He’s never once pressured you for anything sexual, nor has he ever touched you before asking. He was a true gentleman, and you knew it.

“Unless you wanna see me naked..” You move to stand between his legs, “Is that what you want, Koo?” You gingerly slot your fingers through his hair, and he nods. “Take it off for me?” His fingertips ghost over your thigh, leaving burning goosebumps in their wake.

You shudder at his touch, every stroke going straight to your clit. His hands slip under your skirt to pull your safety shorts down. “First, let's get rid of these, yeah?” he squeezes your thigh, groaning at how soft the flesh is. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

You moan softly at the motion, “I… I don't know, Koo… anywhere.” he untucks your shirt from your skirt, splaying his hand across the pudge of your tummy.

“Here?” he asks, moving his hand to your breastbone, fingers fiddling with the front clasp of your bra. You nod sheepishly, cheeks and ears heating up. He hastily takes your shirt off and tosses it aside. “So pretty, always thought you were pretty. I couldn't stop staring at you when I first laid my eyes on you in class—imagining how you’d look on your knees in front of me, choking on my dick. I know you’d look so fucking beautiful blowing me.” you’re clenching around nothing, eyes glazed over in lust. Jungkook knows what he’s doing.

“Can I ask you something?” eyeing him lazily, ready for him to touch you for real.

“Anything, baby girl.” he leans in, leaving open-mouth kisses on your tummy. Looking up at you as he does.

You cringe at the initial contact of his mouth, legs starting to feel like they’re going to give out. “Are you a virgin?” he stops what he’s doing, bringing you back down from the cloud you were just on.

“I mean, I’ve had my dick sucked, but I’ve never been inside someone, so technically, yes. Are you?” You nod quickly, getting shy all over again. “That's fine with me, but I don't have condoms... So I was just–”

“I’m on the pill!” You blurt out. You don't want him to stop. You want to feel him. He makes you feel safe and protected.

His head snaps at you, and he chuckles softly, “Well. I’m clean, the campus does free STD screenings every other month, and I got checked about 2 months ago and haven't been with anyone since. So if you’re okay with it, I am too. We can buy Plan B in the morning.” You nod again. 

“O–okay.” You’re shy again, so he coos at you.

He pulls you to straddle him, “So funny, baby girl, you were the one to initiate, and now look at you, all shy and blushy.” He leans in to kiss you, your first kiss. You feel electricity light up your body and you hope he feels it too. 

You shift on his lap, accidentally creating friction for you both, causing you to moan into his mouth and for him to grip your ass. Fingernails leave crescents in your skin. “Stand up.” He moves you, and you stand. When you get up, his lips find yours helping you get undressed, and you do the same. When you're both in nothing but your underwear, he picks you up and gently lays you on the bed.

“Listen to me, okay? If you ever feel uncomfortable with anything, just tell me, and I’ll stop. Sex is supposed to be enjoyable for the both of us, and I don’t wanna do anything to hurt you.” he cups your cheek, looking into your eyes, looking for the slightest bit of doubt. When he doesn’t find it, he goes back to kissing you slowly, making your clit throb.

His hand plays with the little pink bow on the front of your panties, “Can I touch you?” You agree, and he slips his hand into your panties, fingers slipping quickly between your folds, “Fuck you’re soaked... That's so fucking hot. All I did was kiss you. Shit.” You snap your thighs together when he finds your clit. “You like that?”

“Yeah.. feels good..” you begin to squirm under his ministrations. He’s just watching you, the way soft moans leave your mouth, making him hard. 

“Can I put one in?” fingertip prodding the tight hole of your entrance. You nod feverishly, and he pushes one in slowly.

You groan at the feeling. Burning and slightly uncomfortable, but you know you'd have to get used to it. “You okay?” you feel his palm bump your clit, and you tell him you’re okay, that it just burns a little. “Well, baby, that's cause you’re so tight. I’m gonna wait for a little before I move my finger. Let me know when it stops burning, okay?”

You give him the go-ahead, and he begins to fuck his finger into you slowly while his thumb rubs lazy circles on your clit. You're squirming under him and moaning into his mouth while he kisses you. Eventually, he adds a second finger going a little harder this time, and you can feel this heaviness in the pit of your stomach. He hits a particular spot in you that causes the loudest moan to leave your mouth.

“Keep doing that. That's good. I like that. It feels so fucking good.” He keeps curling his fingers into you, beckoning your impending orgasm, and after a few minutes of him finger fucking you like that, your orgasm hits you. You bite him, moaning into the crook of his neck, legs shaking as you come down.

“You look so pretty when you cum. I could watch you do that forever.” He pulls his fingers out and pops them in his mouth, moaning at your taste. “I could also taste you forever.”

Your cheeks rose and you move your hand to touch his dick and squeeze it too hard, causing him to pull his hips away. “Too hard, baby, don’t squeeze too hard.” He guides you on how to touch him, and when you find a good rhythm, he's a moaning mess, lashes fluttering.

“Should we try it now?” You ask him, and he looks over to you, jaw slack from you, jerking him off. “I want to feel it inside me..” hiding your face in his chest, he moves to hover over you.

“Okay, I’m not going to lie to you. I might not last long.” He moves to look at what he's doing, and you watch as he lines himself up with your entrance. “You ready?”

You nod, and he struggles a little before finding your entrance and pushing himself in. Both of your moaning softly in unison. “Go slow... It burns a lot.” Unfortunately, Jungkook was girthy and long. The stretch was going burning regardless of how slow or fast he went. He bottoms out and stays there for a bit. His breath shaky in your ear.

“You’re clenching so hard. It feels too good. I’m trying so hard not to nut right now.” He licks and sucks on your neck to distract himself. “Good, I just know you got good pussy. Gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your heart flutters at his last words. No one has ever associated you and being in love together. You know it’s stupid, but you can’t help but fall for him.

You kiss him, which he takes as a sign to start moving inside you. He’s fucking you slowly, ensuring you feel all of him. He finds that kissing you distracts him from how wet and tight you are. You’re like his little slice of heaven right now, and he wants to savor the cake. At this point, he knows he's gonna have scratch marks all over his back with how much you’re clawing at him to keep him close.

“Yeah, that feels good. I like feeling you inside me.” You keen in his ear softly as he picks up his pace, watching your face contort in pleasure. You're so fucking hot to him, so sweet too. He likes you and thinks he’s dumb for the thought, but he could see himself with you forever. 

“You’re taking me so fucking well, baby girl. It’s like this pussy was made for me.” He’s thrusting into you like a wildman. The burning has been replaced by pure, 100% pleasure. He’s right. It’s like you were made for him. Immediately taking all of him with almost no problem. 

“Yeah, made for you... Only you. Ruin me, make me yours.” He stills inside you, looking at you in awe.

“You’re… You’re fucking nasty. Holy shit, you're so fucking hot. Can I choke you?” You nod, and he raises his hand to choke you, grip on your throat just enough to throw you right over the edge. Clenching around him like crazy, you feel him twitching inside you, his hips starting to thrust into you lazily. He thrusts into you a couple more times before he coats your walls in his seed. He collapses on you, both of you breathing heavily, lying there in silence.

“How was it?” You ask him, running your fingertips up and down the dip of his spine. He kisses your cleavage. You feel so blissful, and even if he doesn't respond, you think you could lay like this forever.

“It was good, like really good.” He sits up, and his lower half is coated in a mixture of cum and blood, and his eye widen. “Oh my god, are you okay? This is a lot of blood.”

You’re calm and collected, unlike him, “You broke my hymen, and I’m sure you ripped me a bit. I mean, your dick is big, and I’ve never had sex before. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Let's get cleaned up and head to the festival?” You move to stand, but your legs are wobbly, and your pussy is sore.

Nonetheless, Jungkook is super gentle in getting you all cleaned up, making sure to get the spots where the cum has dried up on you. You two eventually collected yourselves enough to get to the festival. You two have the best time, and you come out of your shell with him. Getting along with his friends and their girlfriend. 

After a month of dating, Jungkook asks you to be his girlfriend, and of course, you say yes. Junior year Jungkook asks you to move in with him as he will graduate soon, and he doesn't want your relationship to end over it. You tell him you can’t because while your dad adores him, he wants you to focus on school and graduate before moving in together. You assure him you'll go to see him every weekend you are free. Senior Year, the day after graduation, Jungkook asks again, and you agree because now you can be together freely. A year after moving in together, he proposes to you, stating he’s in love with you and wants to be with you forever, among other beautiful words. You turn him down, telling him you two are still too young to settle down, you being 21 and him being 23. You tell him you’re his, but you’re not ready for that kind of commitment yet, and woefully he accepts your rejection. After another year of living together, Jungkook starts his business, and you two buy a home together. You start at HYBE as an assistant, and things are so shitty you fall into some bad habits. But let’s see where life takes you.

AN: please send me your thoughts on this and the first two parts I need some constructive criticism if you have it, my inbox is open. thank you all for enjoying the first two. I'm having a lot of fun writing these!!!

© @cumsuga 2016-2024. All rights reserved. — Unauthorized use or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating, and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. DO NOT USE MY CONTENT FOR ANY AI PURPOSES WHAT SO EVER

credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #smut

[nrdmssgs]

💕do you do aus for zhar and nik? ever since i learned, what her callsign stands for, i want a supernatural au with them, please! they are cryptids and you cant tell me otherwise! 💕

Lovie, the short answer is: I have not a single idea, how to make a decent AU. I don't understand, how this whole thing works.

However, a few days ago my friends reminded me of this idea, I had a while ago. Consider this one time promotion, but I present you with a shifters!NikxZhar

Summary: they show each other their inhuman forms. This is somewhere between the first and second chapters of Matters, if you need a timeline, so Zhar already has her call sign, works in Chimera and has burn marks. TW: swearing

Masterlist

Shifting is a very intimate moment. It should be kept to the shifter themselves and maybe their closest family. This is the well respected principle among all the shifters, so even in the Task Force they just wrote, what their 'second faces' were on pieces of paper and left those pieces on the desk, so that each of them could read and remember in silence.

Though, of course, Soap couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Wait, lammer-what? I need to google that thing."

Ghost hissed, gripping Johnny's collar and shaking him vigorously: it was considered inappropriate to comment on others 'second face' - something so personal.

Olga didn't pay any attention - she was happy as long as Nikolai wasn't around, when she had to confess, what exactly she shifts into. Back in that days she didn't trust him even her address. And she couldn't care less for what's his 'second face' was.

That's why now, many years after, she has to guess.

As they walk into the deep forest, both dressed too light for the current weather, as their blood starts running hot in anticipation, she takes a peek at him secretly.

What could this man be?

There are a few factors, that might help to guess shifters 'second face'. First of all - 'second face' would never be a form, originating too far from the place, where the shifter was born. So it is almost impossible to be born for example somewhere around Finland and be shifted into a kangaroo. The next important thing, is that what shifters call 'a second face' is in reality more a second nature - it will affect their preferences in work or their personal traits.

"Any ideas, darling? Wild guesses? If you guess right - I'm the first to show, remember?" Nikolais grin shines in the last rays of dusk and Zhar understands, that her guesses are most likely to be wrong. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so arrogant.

"I need three attempts."

"Take as many as you want, but I'm not that big of a riddle." He stops on the edge of the clearing in the woods and leans against a tall dark pine.

Olga looks around, assessing the place, and turns back to Nikolai. "Ok, my best shot is a magpie or a crow. Someone of the corvidae."

"Because I'm the best pilot, you've ever seen, sokrovishe*?"

"Because you're the smart sneaky scoundrel, willing to steal anything, that is not nailed to the floor... And maybe because of all the flying."

Nik chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm afraid, the sky is my dream in every my form, but never my element. So think bigger."

Zhar tilts her head to the side. "Bigger? A wolf maybe? Statistically speaking, there must be at least one wolf in Prices Task Force and we had none, while I was serving there..."

"O-o-o-oh-h-h-h-h, I adore wolf-shifters. Something in them just makes my heart melt, little lovely puppies... " Nikolai clicks his tongue and leans closer Olga, freezing right above her ear. "But you, little thing, got yourself somebody more... massive, I should say."

"Nik, for fucks sake, I beg you: not a bear," pleads Zhar.

Nikolai looks at her and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Olga opens her mouth, but says nothing and watches him. The moment, that should have become their true bonding, grows so terribly cheesy, that she regrets even agreeing to this all. Not only she has fallen for a Russian guy - she somehow found her self the Russian bear shifter, as if she was aiming for the most cliché man on Earth. Nik breaks the silence with a loud laughter.

"Well, of course, every shifter born in Russia, must be a bear! As if you yourself are the one as well." He tosses his shirt on the bag, they brought with them, cups Zhars face and peppers it with kisses, still laughing. She doesn't react, still looking at him in shock, and he add 'just fucking with you, Nebo, don't you worry'.

"So, I was wrong? Not a bear?"

"No." Nikolai grins and places another kiss, a much longer one on her lips. "Not a bear. But that means, somebody lost and will have to shift first."

His fingers trail down her neck and tug under her sweater. "This will have to go, I guess. Unless I found myself a little mouse-girl..."

Zhar catches his lips: hard to resist him, when her body is boiling with both sides of her nature. Their kiss is full of thirst for each other, hands clutching on clothes, caressing and claiming, their heartbeats grow faster and synchronize. It is much more than a make out session - they open each other up, sharing inhuman warmth, loosing breath in each other. Everything feels much brighter in their state, every touch wakes so much more sensations right now. It feels so good, that Nikolai groans irritated, when Olga break their kiss and whispers 'not here, Nik'.

"Nobody will see you, Nebo. Not a single soul, but me." He tries to bargain for more of her proximity, but Zhar shakes her head.

"You didnt get me. Not here. I need a cliff."

Nikolai freezes. A shadow of concern crosses his gaze. Not every shifter has an equally simple way to change their form. If your 'second face' is a mammal - consider yourself lucky, because you practically can decide, when you shift, because the difference between your two forms is not that big. But in other it takes a great deal of 'motivation' for the shift to happen.

Such shifters often use adrenalin injections to trigger the process, but there are other, more 'traditional' ways.

"You're getting a shot." Nikolai doesn't even ask her - he states a fact. His voice resembles a deep, guttural roar. "This is your first shifting after the injury, I am not letting you do anything careless."

"I've never done this with a shot. Not for a single time! And i'm not starting today." Olga takes off her sweater and unbuckles her belt. They fly to the ground behind Nik. Her usual insecurities and desire to hide her scars are instantly forgotten.

"You are going to get yourself killed!" Nik grabs her arm.

He realizes his mistake too late: shifters get incredibly strong and easily irritated before the change. Zhar yanks her arm out of his grip with such force that she risks dislocating her shoulder joint. He lets her go in fear and she finally turns back.

"You dare to question my 'face'?" Something changes in her voice: it grows raucous, high and strong.

Nikolai takes a step back.

They walk to the cliff in a dead silence. No one breaks it, even when Olga takes off her last bits of clothes.

They stop on a large empty plateau, hanging above the darkening void full of rocks and trees. Zhar stretches her arms and shoulders, when she feels Nikolais hot breath on her back.

"What?" She looks back and meets his gaze: not an angry or menacing, but instead full of care and tenderness.

He walks around her, touches her cheek and kisses her forehead.

"That's all I wanted to let you know, moye Nebo*. I will be right here. Waiting." Niks voice is muffled, if there was any rage in him - he dragged it deep enough to not be shown in any way.

She presses her whole body against his for a moment and sighs. Olga knows, how hard it is for him to let her do, what she is about to do. And yet he strangles his own doubts for her.

Nikolai takes a few steps back, watching her undoing her usual bun. Waves of trembling run down her body, but he knows, that it is not from cold. It is the anticipation.

Zhar closes her eyes, takes a deep breath in and pushes herself ahead from the edge. Her motions are so calm and casual that for a few seconds Nikolai believes that she did not do anything unusual, and throwing herself into a deadly void is not a big deal. And then the chilling realization of what is happening creeps into his soul. His heaven, his beloved girl just jumped off the cliff on his very eyes. He waits for what feels like an eternity, but not a single sound appears in the black seas of tree tops waving on the wind under him. His hands run cold, throat feels dry and soar, heart runs wild. Shifting never takes so much time. Nik stands on the very edge of the plateau and whispers 'come on, come back to me, love, I beg you'.

All of a sudden, a huge black shadow, flies up right before his face so swiftly, that he instinctively covers his face. A magnificent beast of a bird straightenes her wings and lays down on the invisible streams of wind just a few dozens meters above the ground, casting a formidable shadow upon Nik. Cloaked in a tapestry of dusk and dawn, its plumage boasts a palette woven from the shades of twilight - a fusion of russet and amber intermingling with the deep hues of earth and blood.

Nikolai pulls his arm to the side, and calls her to sit on it and give her wings some rest. But she shrieks at him, rising scarlet feathers on her head. Her voice isn't anywhere near soothing bird songs - it is a war cry, a command, that only a fool would dare to disobey. So Nik lowers his hand and nods meekly. In the first minutes after the change, a shifter usually doesn't recognize anyone around. Younger ones need up to a few hours to fully understand, who are they, and what is happening to them.

Nikolai doesn't pressure her into interaction - he just descends to the ground and sits there, letting her circle above him. When she finally lands near him - Nik finally get a chance to see every smallest detail.

It's her eyes, that hypnotize him. They glint like precious gemstones amid the wild expanse, hold a glimmer of some secret knowledge, a silent witness to the untamed symphony of life and death that echo high in the sky.

She leans to the ground, curls up in an unnatural for a bird pose, and Nikolai understands, that she is tired.

"Come here, I'll hold you, my treasure." The bird looks at him attentively for a few long moments and leans her head on his lap.

Shifting back is painful: shivers run through her entire body for a long time after she loses her heathers and bones grow back to a human form. Nik caresses her shoulders and slowly rocks her back and forth to sooth her senses.

When her skin stops running so hot, he wraps her in a blanket they took from home.

"I know, I know: a girl must shift into something sophisticated and pretty. Like a hawk, falcon, or a dove... Not in-"

"You are a work of art. I've never seen anything so majestic. And I've spent quite some time in the skies." Nikolai smiles, looking her in the eyes.

"More majestic than your hellicopter?"

"Just don't tell her." Nikolai winks. "So... a vulture? A magnificent creature. And a fearful one. Dread from the skies."

"Bearded vulture. We look more menacing, than we really are, so don't worry."

"Oh love, you could leave my 'second face' eyeless in a few seconds, if you wanted." At these words of Zhar raises a confused gaze upon him. She wouldn't risk flying low enough to let something 'more massive than a wolf' to catch her.

Nik helps her back into her clothes and carefully kisses her hands, taking in a brief moment of her absolute vulnerability. When she is ready, Nikolai helps her stand and leads her to the nearest tree to lean against.

"You sure, you want to see it today? I can wait as long as you want." He whispers lowly.

"Nikolai, please! I showed you everything, it is only fair-"

"Ok-ok," he chuckles. "Just promise me to be a brave little thing and don't run away. I will be at your feet in any of my forms."

Following him with her gaze, Zhar waits until he disappears far behind the trees and sinks to the ground: the shifting was really hard for her, but she tried to hide it from Nik. Her eyes slowly get used to the dark ambience of the forest, but she notices no movement.

It is only when a few little birds quickly flutter out of the bushes and rush away, Olga finally understands, she is not alone anymore.

The first thing she notices are two eyes, mirroring moonlight. And the height at which these eyes are moving does not bode well for her. He is enormous. His colossal frame emerges from the verdant shadows. A creature of regal splendor, its tawny coat adorned with striking stripes that echoed the forest's secrets.

"Bloody hell..." Her heart skips a beat, and fear courses through her veins. Instinctively, she springs to her feet, pressing her back against the reassuring solidity of the tree. Her pulse quickens, her hand darts to the place, where her holster usually is: a primal response to the raw power embodied in the approaching feline.

The tiger freezes, his giant paw is raised for the next silent step, but remains in the air. He sees, where her hand moved, he undesrtands, what is it, shes seeking. Olga desperately tries to remember, how long ago Nik went away to shift. "10 minutes top. But he's a bloody cat - they need more time to adapt, they are much more wild than us," screams a frightened voice in her head. Before her stands a beast, approximately two hundred kilos of muscles and hunger for blood, and Zhar has nothing to help her escape. She won't even be able to shift once again - she barely stands.

However, to her astonishment, the tiger doesn't bear his teeth or growl menacingly. Instead, he approaches her after the initial pause.

Drawing closer, the tiger halts just a breath away, his golden eyes fixated upon her. But rather than aggression, the tiger displays an unexpected gesture—a subtle tilt of its head, an invitation.

Trepidation mingle with curiosity, and against all instincts, Olga tentatively extends her hand toward the majestic beast, fingers trembling in uncertainty. With tender grace, the tiger nudges his head closer, inviting her touch.

As her fingers brush against the tiger's velvety fur, a thought, not her own, but rather a dictated or a transmitted one, appears somewhere deep in her mind.

"At your feet, love. In any form. Always."

She looks deep into the ferocious predator's eyes and sees the same warmth, she often finds in Nikolais eyes.

Zhar finally gives in to her weariness and sits down, the beast pulls his head closer to her face and sniffs her hair. As gentle as she can, Olga embraces his head and scratches behind his ears. With a rumbling purr akin to a distant thunderstorm, the tiger leans into her touch, seeking more of her attention. Just as Nikolai always does.

sokrovishe - a treasure

nebo - sky/heaven

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #call of duty mw 2022 #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mv2 #cod x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #mw2 fanfic #cod x oc #nikolai mw3 #nikolai mw2 #mw2 nikolai #mw3 nikolai

[infiniteeight8]

Thinking about your soul stone au again. I just love it so much and I'd love to read more if you have more ideas. Maybe ironstrange getting together? Or, will anyone find out what happened with the soul stone? Or, what happens when they get back to Earth?

I have so many ideas for this ‘verse, including everything you mentioned here… so of course I wrote something else. LOL. I went from writing Tony’s break up with Pepper (because that has to happen before IronStrange get together), to deciding I’d written too much of that and just jumping to them getting together, but I didn’t want Tony and Stephen to get together just because the Soul Stone said so, so I thought about how a slower build up would work, and I ended up somewhere intermediate. (And now I have ideas for how they get together… and all the build up before that…)

I’ll probably come back to this if I run out of prompts. Or if someone drops another prompt for this in my queue, whichever comes first. (Four prompts currently in the queue.)

-

Stephen meets Tony in one of the more private sitting rooms. He brings a teapot and two cups, setting it down on a small side table between two arm chairs. Tony is slumped in his seat, staring into the distance. That seems like a bad sign. “How did it go?” Stephen asks, pouring a cup.

Tony sighs and takes the cup of tea Stephen hands him. “I didn’t tell her.”

Stephen pauses, then pours a cup for himself. “Didn’t you decide you couldn’t keep a secret this big from someone you’re marrying?”

“Yeah.” Tony takes a long sip from his tea, but Stephen thinks he isn’t stalling for time. Steadying himself, maybe. Sitting, Stephen waits. “When I saw Pepper, the Soul Stone asked who she was.”

“It didn’t know?” Stephen’s relationship with Time doesn’t make him an expert on the infinity stones, but he wouldn’t have thought Soul would need a relationship of any kind spelled out to it.

Tony barks a laugh. “Apparently, it assumed she was someone else, because my soul and Pepper’s are, and I quote, ‘Not a good match.’”

Stephen winces. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Tony rubs a hand over his face. “In a lot of ways, Soul is… another alien. If I met a random alien telepath and they told me Pepper and I wouldn’t work out, there’s no way I’d break up with her on their word.” He pauses and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t speak; presumably Soul weighed in. Tony catches Stephen’s eye. “So why am I considering it now?”

“Because Soul is more than a random telepath,” he says. 

Tony hums briefly and sips at his tea. Eventually, his gaze goes to the Eye of Agamotto. “If Time told you a relationship wasn’t going to work out, would you end it?”

“Time isn’t chatty like Soul apparently is.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “That isn’t an answer.” Shit. “Spill it, Strange.”

Stephen sets down his tea and looks at Tony. “Those 14 million futures I saw? Sometimes there were years between that moment and the final battles; I saw a lot of potential relationships for myself. Some went well. Some poorly. I can’t forget them, so I know that they’ll influence me, but none of them are this future. It’s unique. I have to approach it that way.”

“But statistically—”

“Statistically, you should have died in Afghanistan,” Stephen interrupts. “Statistically, half the universe should have died to Thanos. We are living in the statistical exception, Tony.” 

Tony groans, leaning his head back against the armchair. “Pepper feels like the only chance I’ll ever have for a real relationship,” he admits. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“I don’t think this is your only chance. But if you love Pepper, if you think you’ll be happy together, then that doesn’t matter,” Stephen says. Time flickers a hundred futures with Tony past Stephen’s mind’s eye. Stubbornly, he pushes them aside. Potential is only potential, he tells the stone silently. This has to be Tony’s decision.

“Yeah,” Tony says, and sips his tea.

#IronStrange #ficlet

[elgascreamslikehell]

Something something Sunday!

Tagged by sweet @fionaswhvre thanks starshine!

Look, i'm still alive, i made it through the weekend.. kinda! So I'm still depressed they still didn't even kiss but we're getting there i think.

I wanted to share something kinda sweet? If it could be called sweet??

Buck calls in the middle of the night. 'Buck? Something wrong?', - not that Eddie was sleeping but statistically speaking there are no good calls at that time 'I can't sleep. Eddie…', - he sounds strange: 'I broke up with Natalia, you know?' Eddie keeps quiet and Buck continues: 'And now I'm alone in my loft and it's fucking scary and I don't know why and I thought i can call you and it would help and it helps but now I think it was bad idea and I'm sorry and..' 'Buck, stop. Why are you scared?' I don't know, Buck thinks, maybe it's too quiet and dark - well it's always dark now - and I don't feel home here and most probably I will die alone and since I lied down I started thinking that you won't be with me and all that keeps me away from panic is your stupid pillow and I'm so late for everything and you are happy with a nice guy and it feels like the end and everything is wrong 'Buck? Talk to me', - there are some strange noises in the background but Buck just ignores them: 'It's just.. I don't know. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?' 'No, of course not. So, talk to me. You broke up with Natalia. I don't want to sound rude but', - it seems like Eddie dropped something: 'Hell. So, I don't want to be rude but I'm glad to hear that, she wasn't a good person in general and she definitely didn't treat you well so…well, fuck!', - something is wrong with Eddie, that's for sure. 'Maddie said the same… Well, more politely but the idea was the same. Eddie, are you ok?' 'I'm fine. And I'm sorry, I understand you love her and it should be painful but still, I really think it is for the best. Besides, you are gorgeous, so it won't be an issue for you to find someone else but this time, please, let it be someone nice?' 'Do you really think I'm gorgeous?', - that is not what he was gonna ask but it just slipped: 'Someone nice like Eric? He is nice. But why didn't he tell me you were at the hospital?' 'He's a good secret keeper, not like your sister. And yes, someone nice like Eric… if it is fine with you, i mean…' 'It is. Why not? Hey, it's the twenty-first century!', - he laughs again and hell Eddie loves his laugh. And he loves Buck. So fucking much  'That's a relief. So don't worry. And hey, I told you before, it's a bad idea to date somebody you rescued', - Buck is still laughing: 'I know you rescue stray cats and bring them to tia Peppa, why is it fine with cats and wrong with… wait a second', - his tone changes: 'I might need to call you back cause.. I swear there's someone at my door' 'I know' And the door opens. 'It's me' Eddie turns off the phone and comes in 'Eddie? What… why?', - he did want it. He didn't ask for it.  'For the safety reasons. Really, I need to take you as a hostage before you lose the blindfold. So pack if you need something and let's go home' Buck just silently growls. The urge to kiss Eddie now is really hard to resist.  And why the hell he thinks his apartment is home. And how the hell he's right.

@krayfish @blackberry-l @kaseysgirl86-blog @brightlyprofiling @idealuk @1stbonesfan @angryangeldreamsalad @criminally-obsessed @amelia9bl @silvergold-swirl @itsamaaaadworld @vasudharaghavan @livingonzenstreet @nothingbutmande @spanishrose6 @sunflowerdiaiz @fanf98 @logicloveandsense @simply-mev @ronordmann @still--not--over--merlin @z02fl @vanjalen @thatshroomintheforest @steadfastsaturnsrings @cagdahl @newtalot @dreamforrest @pirrusstuff

#eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #buck x eddie #buddie 911 #911 fandom #911 buddie #911 eddie #911 fic #ryu is writing stuff

[diemannschaftblr]

@/iMiaSanMia: Julian Nagelsmann: "Ilkay Gündogan remains captain. But Manu's word will continue to have weight. The captain is intended to be a contact point for his teammates. Players should feel like they have a leader in their ranks. He’s a representative of the team"

On Hummels being dropped: Mats hasn’t played as much recently as before. We now have a different system and one less centre-back. There are currently other players there. I don't see Mats as the ideal choice. It’s not always just about finding the best players, but perhaps simply the most suitable ones.

On who will start in goal in the next two games: We will have a conversation with both of them [Neuer and ter Stegen] - and then decide.

On dropping Goretzka: The decision was not between Pavlović and Leon. Leon's last few games have been much better, that's right. It's about finding the right players for the roles, I see other players ahead at the moment. We had others in mind. Through very good performance and an understanding of the role, the door is not closed. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation [with Goretzka], as you can imagine, but you have to make decisions.

On Pavlović: He has shown very strong performances recently. He was one of the best players at Bayern. Of course this was not a political decision. We didn't have to convince him. That was the consequence of the performance principle. We'll see whether it'll be enough for the Euros. He talks in the dressing room and doesn’t hide despite his young age.

On his future: I currently have a contract with the DFB until after the European Championships. I don't have any other contract available. My full focus is on the European Championships and the national team.

But, Nagelsmann is definitely thinking about his future: I would advise that to anyone whose contract is about to expire.

On Thomas Müller: He’s been playing a lot recently. He knows what his role is, he knows what importance he can have in each role. Thomas could also settle for a spot off the bench. He already knows the role at FC Bayern. Thomas is a player who also has a role off the pitch. He is an intelligent player who doesn’t focus on himself but on the team.

On Kroos' comeback: He is very important, but also not the sole savior. He knows what he can do. On the other hand, he also knows what he can't do. He has a very good instinct, a good calmness. He can be a brilliant link between defense and attack. There is always this expression in Germany “Querpass-Toni” [sideways pass Toni] - Anyone who says that knows nothing about football. I'm extremely happy that after many conversations I persuaded him to come back. I give him credit for that.

On 4 Stuttgart players called up: That’s also momentum. This year they are doing very, very well. I could have called two or three more from VfB. Waldemar Anton is a very good defender, also with an offensive urge. He won't demand to play every game from the start, but he'll still give it his all. Maxi Mittelstädt is currently the most stable left-back in the Bundesliga. Statistically speaking, he is by far the best left-back in the Bundesliga. Chris Führich is an extremely valuable player, with 1v1 and good finishing, that can be key if we need a goal. Deniz Undav has a great ability to read spaces. He runs a lot, is hard-working and has a good nose for goal.

On Jan-Niklas Beste: He can play an offensive role but also at the back and can play left-back without any problems. Plus he is an exceptional set piece taker. He deserved the nomination with the goal involvments he has.

Nagelsmann says Rüdiger and Tah will be the starting CB duo: Toni and Jona are initially the starters in central defense. They can confirm this through good performances.

On BVB players (except Füllkrug) being dropped: The assessment is not always about talent. I spoke to Edin (Terzic) and Sebastian Kehl on the phone, I can imagine that neither of them are happy. I think other players have better momentum. Everyone knows what it will take to get back in. From the discussions we had, they know what is missing so that they can be called up for the Euros. The player decides at the end. I’m just the executive body. Julian Brandt was a tough decision, Führich probably has the better momentum at the moment.

#germany nt #german nt #dfb team #140324 #julian nagelsmann #ilkay gündoğan #manuel neuer #mats hummels #marc andré ter stegen #aleksandar pavlovic #leon goretzka #thomas müller #toni kroos #waldemar anton #maximilian mittlestädt #chris führich #deniz undav #jan-niklas beste #antonio rüdiger #jonathan tah #niklas füllkrug #julian brant

[yuunemi]

I Won’t Say I’m in Love

PAIRING : IDIA SHROUD X FEM!READER

GENRE : FLUFF

C/W : JUST SOME CUSSINGS!

LIBRARIAN’S NOTE/S : as requested by anon, it’s inspired by this song. tbh i don’t recall fully watching the movie, hercules. so i had to do my own research, about meg. i hope y’all enjoyyy!! ^^ idia might be a bit ooc? im still a bit unsure with his character portrayal so—

NOTES & REBLOGS ARE ALWAYS VERY MUCH APPRECIATED ^^

Idia Shroud, now where do I begin with the Idia Shroud. The shut-in dorm leader of Ignihyde is very adept and skillful with technology—I just can’t say the same with socializing though. He doesn’t have a lot of close friends so it doesn’t help that he has feelings for his best friend. He has seen this a bunch of times in shoujo animes already….

“It’s ALWAYS the best friend who gets REJECTED especially when the FEMALE LEAD has told her best friend A.K.A. ME that she likes someone.” Idia rambled to himself. “Besides—when were best friends’ confessions ever accepted?!” Idia added. “According to statistics—.” Ortho said, trying to console his big brother to show that best friends get accepted too but it was soon cut off by Idia’s reply and traumatized face, “That’s not my point Ortho—besides—I have my waifu they should be enough. No. I refuse it.”

“This is just a crush—it’ll fade. I know they will, my feelings for her aren’t deep like those shoujo animes. No way. No. N—.” “IDIAAAAA.” He continued droning on but he abruptly came to a halt when he heard you knocking on the door, calling his name.

“Ee—wha—oh—come in.” He answered. Entering his ever so messy room, you giggled at him, “Geez it’s just me, what’re you freaking out for? Oh hi, Orthoo!!” You asked before greeting the younger brother. “Nothing—Nothing at all.” He answered pretty quickly. “Helloo Y/n-neesan!” Ortho chirped, “Alright then, you ready, player one?” You asked. “Hu—Yeah!” Idia stuttered while his face was beet-red and his hair very pink. The younger brother just couldn’t help but laugh at his older brother.

Fortunately for Idia, you were too busy getting the gaming laptop—that he personalized and tinkered with customizations just for you. So that the two of you could game together and you can definitely bet that your laptop was the best among the rest. You both agreed to just leave it in his dorm room otherwise it might get broken if it’s left with you.

His denial of his crush on you went on for weeks—it was hopeless. Your friends were already telling you to confess your feelings about him because it was crystal clear to them that you like him and he likes you. “The feeling is mutual Y/n! Are you too blind to see or something?!” Ace exclaimed. “Mhm, Y/n-san, I’m sure Idia-senpai likes you too, otherwise he would be bothered with how frequent you visit him,” Deuce added.

“Look guys, YES. I like him—I admit it. Happy now? BUT I have no concrete evidence that he likes me. OKAY? You and I could just be misreading his behavior.” You reasoned out. “What a chicken.” Ace remarked, “Says, by the guy who got dumped by her girlfriend.” You fired back. Meanwhile in Ignihyde….

“Nii-san! You should definitely ask Y/n-neesan out!” Ortho said. It was one of those days that you weren’t around, so Ortho could freely speak about Idia’s crush on you. “I’ve told you many times already—I. Don’t. Like. Her.” Idia answered. “What no!—Actually nii-san you could be right! You don’t like her. My statistics say that your heartbeat consistently speeds up whenever she’s with you over the past few weeks. According to my collected data, your heart rate got 5 beats faster compared to your heart rate with her last month’s visit!”

“Your heat temperature always goes higher by 15 degrees whenever she’s around you—10 degrees whenever you think of her than when she isn’t around at all. You don’t like Y/n-neesan. You probably love her!” Ortho explained cheerily. “HUH? WHAT? THAT’S EVEN WORSE!” Idia exclaimed in horror. “Don’t worry nii-san, Y/n-neesan likes you too! Just like you, her—.”

“Ah-ah-ah. No. No. No. I don’t need to hear it.” Idia said, interrupting Ortho. Wearing his headphones—he began tinkering with his inventions to distract himself from whatever turmoil was going on in his head, and heart. The little one, on the other hand—had his own plans.

While Ortho Shroud went off to who knows where—Idia Shroud is stuck in his room tinkering who knows what because he couldn’t properly focus on his invention. As cliche as it sounds, his mind would end up thinking about you but Idia was quick to change his focus and go back to his task at hand.

Upon finishing his new invention or gadget—he couldn’t help but sigh at himself. True he managed to control his thoughts plagued of you, but looking at the finished product. It just became another piece of evidence that he couldn’t stop thinking about you because he ended up making a device that you described to him in one of your many conversations.

Averting his gaze from the gadget, he looked at his monitor—to which the school’s security cameras are connected. Then his eyes were as if it was on autopilot mode that immediately looked for and found you. There you were, walking down the hall with your friends, laughing and having fun. How he wishes that it was him that you were with, laughing and having fun with.

Shaking his head and thoughts away. He just sat there—staring into particularly nothing. He was silently collecting his thoughts. He still refuses to say he’s in love, at least not out loud.

I guess some feelings are just meant to be kept hidden—for their own good, both people involved. “No. No! NO!” Ortho exclaimed, “You don’t get it Y/n-neesan. My nii-san really likes you! If he won’t confess first, then you should do it.” Ortho added. “What?! No way! I can’t possibly do that!” You answered

“And why is that?” Ortho asked, “Because….I—I just can’t! I won’t be able to face him and Idia’s my best friend, even if he does like me, what does that have to do with anything? Just because he likes me too, doesn’t necessarily mean he’d date me.” You replied, “Anyways, I need to go. I still have to finish my assignments.” You added and started to walk away.

The little one was just left face palming and sighing, “Why are you two, so hopeless?” He muttered before walking off to who knows where again.

Later on, that night, you couldn’t sleep, you kept twisting and turning just trying to find the right spot, but to no avail. Everything that Ortho said and explained to you just kept replaying in your mind over and over again. If this keeps going on, you’re probably gonna end up losing your mind. So you’re about to do the most stupid—well depending on your definition of stupid. It may or may not be the stupidest thing yet. You stood up from the bed, careful not to accidentally wake up or hit Grim. You took your phone and sat on the couch in your room.

It was 2 AM, “Still too early for Idia to be asleep—wait, why am I? I must be really that down bad for him, huh.” You thought, mentally sighing at yourself. Despite that, you still continued your plans to call him. It didn’t even take more than 3 rings for him to pick up, “Idiaaa, are you busy right now?” You asked, but the other end of the line was silent for a moment. “Hi! Y/n—wait, in-game.” He quickly answered. Which was soon followed by a bunch of curses.

“Pffft, ahahahaha! Okay, okay, I’ll wait.” You replied and you could’ve sworn that you heard a shriek from his side. So you waited and waited, but it wasn’t that boring because you could hear Idia’s voice, rambling and raging. It was nothing new, but it was something cute! “Hey Y/n, what’s up?” He asked, meaning that he has finished his game.

“I know this is the most inconvenient time right now but is it true? Everything that Ortho said?” You asked, “Wha-What did Ortho tell you?” He nervously answered. “He told me that you like me, he even went on and explained his statistics and data.” You explained while laughing at the last phrase. He was silent, so you decided to continue on “Look. I didn’t want to face it but I also want to know if it’s true because it’s bugging me—because….I like you too.”

Silence, the room, and Idia’s side of the line were silent, and you couldn’t stand the silence. “I know it’s so lame that this is how it ends but I just really wanted to get it out. So—goodnight Idia.” You finished, immediately hitting the end button. Which probably also ended your friendship with Idia. “That was so stupid of me.” You muttered before going back to bed.

Meanwhile back in Ignihyde “Shit. Shit. Shit. I messed up—great now she’s gonna start avoiding me then I’m gonna do the same. And then before I know it—we’re just gonna become strangers to each other.” Idia rambled, “All because I couldn’t say anything…” He trailed off, sighing at himself.

The next day came and well let’s say neither of you had a goodnight’s rest. Ortho was very concerned as to why his big brother is acting this way. He didn’t stop asking Idia, which annoyed the said dorm leader, “Look it’s all your fault!” He shouted in anger, realizing what he said, he immediately apologized and explained the situation. “What?! You need to make it right nii-san!” Ortho exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?! I can’t even face her and it’s probably too late now.” He said in horror.

“She couldn’t face you too, nii-san! And it’s not too late yet, so you should fix it now or it’ll be really too late.” Ortho said, looking determined at his brother. “You’re right, thanks for knocking some sense into me Ortho.” Idia answered, “Anything for nii-san!” Ortho chirped happily.

Back with you, “YOU DID WHAT?!” The Adeuce Combo and Grim shouted aloud together, earning stares from a lot of students. “SHHH! Not so loud, you three!” You reprimanded with a sigh. “Yes I confessed, now I think it’s a bad idea because he didn’t even answer me.” You sadly said. For once Ace and Grim were actually silent because they didn’t know what to say.

“I'm not really an expert at this or anything but maybe Idia-senpai was just too shocked…” Deuce said, his voice getting softer at the end. “I'm sure anyone would be shocked with a confession at 2 in the morning, Y/n.” Ace added. “If he really likes you then he’ll come around…I think.” Deuce said trying to reassure you. “That’s right! Nyahahahahahaha!” Grim said.

“Thanks, you three.” You finally spoke up, with a soft smile. As if on cue, your phone was ringing, it was Idia, “Hello?” You said answering the phone. “H-Hi Y/n, can you stop over at my dorm, later?” Idia asked, anxiety evident in his voice. “After classes? Sure.” You replied, “T-Thanks!” He said before ending the call. The trio gave you questioned faces, while you just gave them a shrug.

Classes are finally done and now here you were, on your way to Idia’s room. It wasn’t your first time going there but you can’t help but feel very nervous. “Idia?” You asked while knocking at his door and slowly entered once you heard a faint come in. Upon entering, you were greeted with a very nervous Idia sitting on his chair. The room was awkwardly silent.

“Yes?” You spoke up, breaking the silence and still standing up, “I—Look—I—Uhhhm.” Idia stuttered over his words, “Hey, relax, I’m not in a hurry, but do you mind if I sit?” You asked while pointing at his bed, to which he immediately nodded. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “So, uh—I want to a-apologize for leaving you hanging last night, yeah—and yes! I like you too, I'm so sorry for being so stupid and—and, y-yeah tha-that’s all.” He said in a manner of slowly gaining self-confidence that he ended up speaking way too fast from his confession and onwards.

With no words forming, you just hugged him “e-eeep!” He shrieked, blushing from your actions. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around you as well. “Sooo what now?” You asked, pulling away yourself from him. “U-Uhm, I don’t really know either,” Idia answered, still blushing. “Does your confession mean, we’re dating now? Or what…” you asked trailing off at the end. “I-I guess so—but, I don’t know anything about dating.” He replied

“Then, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together.” You beamed at him with a closed-eye smile. Unbeknownst to the two of you. The door was left ajar, and a sneaky little robot was peeking. “Mission Success!” Ortho rejoiced.

!! DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE ELSE !! THIS IS THE PROPERTY OF YUUNEMI !! IT DOESN’T CLAIM TO OWN THE CHARACTERS THAT BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS !!

#twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland #twst fluff #twst fanfic #idia x reader #twst idia #ignihyde x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud

[littlelioncub43]

Super dark!reader having naked Robert and Lloyd on a leash. They have to be on all fours when she walks somewhere and have to sit next to her (also on the floor) when she is having a meeting😏 she loves to humiliate them and loves to punish them

Oh my goodness, its been forever since we talked about Robert Pronge 💀 I went soft for this, I can't help it, I'm a softie!

The bruises on his knees were constant. The ache and tenderness in his joints never went away, you made sure of that. Thankfully, the blue, purple, and yellow marks only decorated his legs; you'd been in a kind mood these last few weeks, and he wanted to keep you like that.

Even now, as you sit in a meeting with one of your arms supplier from the West coast, you idly play with his hair. Hell, you even gave him a blanket to keep the icy bite of your office at bay— you in the best fucking mood on the planet. It was terrifying Robert.

You sat cross-legged in your leather chair at the head of the mahogany meeting table, your attention half on Martinez and half on your little pet at your feet. The statistics were mind-numbing, figures you already read in his report this morning, the meeting only being a formality, a show of respect to you. Martinez, thankfully, was just about done, he could tell you didnt want to be here any longer than necessary.

"That just about covers it, Ma'am. Any other details that I've missed should be in the report I sent this morning, but I'd be happy to go over them again if you'd like me t—"

"No need for that, Martinez, your report was very thorough," you calmly interrupt, still threading your fingers through Bobby's soft locks, your good mood was even scaring Martinez, "you may go now. Give my best to your wife, will you?"

"Yes, of course, Ma'am," he nodded with a well practiced professional smile. "Goodnight."

You don't watch Martinez as he makes his exit, instead keeping your eyes on Bobby, who's eyes were trained on the floor, like you taught him. His favorite dark blue blanket was wrapped around his waist, cushioning his knees. You though about giving him a pillow but you knew that he'd like the blanket more today. With a sigh, you gently turn Robert to face you with a finger on his chin.

"You've been so good for me, pet," you whisper and hold his chin in your hand, your thumb stroking his cheek. Robert was nearly a puddle from the praise alone, but the gentle touches were sending him deep into the headspace only you could put him in. You grin when you see his eyes glaze over. God, he was so fucking easy to control. "You like being good, don't you, pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," he agrees immediately, his voice dreamy and desperate— absolutely pathetic, "I love being good."

"I know you do, baby," you coo and lean down to kiss his forehead, a reward. When you pull back, Bobby's hands are gripping the blanket over his thighs firmly to keep to himself, ever the good boy. What catches your eye is the growing tent beneath the navy blue blanket. "Aw, Bobby, are you hard?"

He nods as his face flushes with a combination of embarrassment and desire. He can barely remember a time when you calling him 'pet' didn't get him harder than a fucking rock, but he knows he wasn't always like this. The thought doesn't linger for long when you tug his leather leash to bring him closer to you, your lips barely touching as you speak.

"Shall I take care of that for you, pet?"

How can he refuse?

#murderer mondays #murderer monday drabble fest #romantic murderer monday #murderer monday #robert pronge x reader #robert pronge x you #robert pronge x y/n #dark!reader #robert pronge x dark!reader #mr freezy #mr. freezy #mr. freezy x you #mr. freezy x fem!reader #mr. freezy x female reader #mr. freezy x dark!reader #chris evans characters #little lion literature

[cetaceans-pls]

Doctor! Doctor! Give me the news!

It's a spur of the moment thing, but Bruce has the grim misfortune to be on a commercial flight in the middle of a medical emergency and there's not a single doctor present! What else was Bruce supposed to do? Damian's watching.

Gen, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne

for @tate-lin, the prompt u requested a lifetime ago asking for bruce with damian :') took me a while but here we are

prompt (doctor bruce) for @brucewayneweek that i'm already late for bc i thought we started on monday..... nevertheless, please enjoy!

-

They're on a killer of a flight, from Seoul back to Gotham, 14 gruesome hours in coach, fake hair fake eyes fake passports but filled with a very real sense of accomplishment for having taken down a Lexcorp subsidiary funding a lobby against maternal leave.

It wasn't even Superman/League related; Bruce was just feeling in the mood to be mean-spirited, so this is about as close to a recreational activity as he'll allow himself to spend Cave resources on. Schools also don't open for another couple of weeks, Gotham roasting in this superheated summer, and Damian had expressed interest in keeping his father company, so off they'd both gone.

It had gone off without a hitch, words whispered in the right ears, journalists tipped off in the quiet dark, a spot of cyber-terrorism or twelve. They'd even had time to go visit Seoul Grand Park, Damian adding to his respectable collection of zoo t-shirts as he gets his picture taken in front of the widely-grinning tiger statue, and all in all, it's as close to a working holiday as it gets for them. 

Damian had been a-glow in the warm summer sun, tricked into being enough of the kid he is to indulge in ice cream that smears on the tip of his nose and make a little awe-inspired sound as they walked by the baby animal room. It has Bruce praying to a god he doesn't much believe in to put a future in front of Damian where all that's required of him is to be as kind and gentle as he wants to be to the living things that'll be kind and gentle to him in turn, ah.

And now it's the return, they're out in the middle of the Pacific, and a panicked air stewardess is asking in as calm a tone as she can muster on if there's a doctor on board, on account of there being a medical emergency and even in the best of circumstances they're hours away from the closest hospital.

It's not a massive flight, but it is about three-quarters full, so Bruce remains in his horrific aisle seat (Damian had wanted the window) and waits patiently for someone to go 'Yes, I'm a doctor'. Statistically, it's almost inevitable.

Literally, he's discounting his awful no good terrible luck. The stewardess continues to nurse-practitioners! Then nurses! Then medical school students! She's maybe about to say 'biology undergrads' before Bruce thinks he's hit the jackpot of terrible odds.

He flags down a passing steward, tells him he's a retired doctor who's happy to help, and in a whirlwind of a moment he and Damian are whisked away to first class, where a distressed pregnant woman is bawling her eyes out while beady-eyed businessman look a little irritated while non-discreetly upping the volume of, uh, Top Gun.

Wealth, fundamentally, is a mistake.

"Hello," he tells the woman in passable Korean. "I'm Thomas," and what an alias to be traveling on while pretending to be a doctor, hey, but here we are. "What's the matter?"

The steward who brought them over goes "Oh, you speak Korean, how lucky!" when he should instead be fetching them hot towels, probably, but Bruce doesn't begrudge him his stress response. We've all got our strange little peccadilloes.

"My wife's Korean," he says politely instead, then much less politely goes "Can you give us some privacy?" when the man looks at Damian who's gone a wonderful nut-brown after 8 hours spent running around an outdoors park Askance.

"It's fine, Father," Damian murmurs by his side, dutifully holding the lady's hand between his own and awkwardly squeezing in a stilted, deeply comforting manner.

Of course it isn't, and there's time yet in this long long flight for Bruce to bite a man's head off. But first? Priorities.

"Ma'am," he says again, since the lady looks calmer now that there're fewer panicked crew and Bruce's broad shoulder's blocking out much of the rest of the world. "What's wrong?"

"It hurts so bad," she says in a miserable cry. "I'm only seven months along, it's not a high-risk pregnancy, I'm on my way to go see my husband, and but it started hurting and it won't stop!"

Any number of causes for such things, but he's not got options to many diagnostic tools here in the air, pretending to be a plain plain man. "When did the pain start?"

"Maybe half an hour ago? I asked for some painkillers, thought it was maybe some cramps, but it just kept getting worse and worse."

At this point, she bursts into tears. Damian, while a dab hand at stopping fatal blood loss, is fairly unfamiliar with the intricacies of OB-GYN, but he is by nature singularly suited to being kind to all creatures in distress. He squeezes her hand gravely. "Can I sit with you?" he asks in accented Korean, and when she nods a little dazedly he clambers in with exquisite carefulness, settles in on the little fold-out table with her hand still in his.

"My father is a wonderful doctor," he says with vehemence. "No matter what, we will take care of you."

Bruce doesn't know what's more overwhelming; Damian's bright blinding faith, or that core of grim pragmatism that stopped a 12-year-old from promising that everything's to be all right. 

Either way, he's got a job to do, this self-proclaimed doctor under this self-proclaimed name, so he tries not to sneeze from his false moustache, and does his best.

- 

Running through the checklist of possible issues, and the prognosis is... uhm. The absence of blood is a plus, as is the fact that Haneul's brought a dossier of her medical records with her in her carry-on. High blood pressure, unconfirmed suspected Ehlers-Danos points to prematurity. He doesn't have the drugs that could help with the situation, and with them being by this point just 2 hours out from landing back in Seoul, the most important thing is to keep her calm and manage her pain with as many massages and hot compresses as he can manage.

He's uncertain about how wise it is to tell her his suspicion, but opts to tell Haneul what he suspects is going on; forewarned is forearmed, and he can't be the one spouting lies about how things are going to be fine if Damian's stolidly holding the line of hot-hearted honesty. "I think it might be premature labour," he says, calm as he can, pretty sure he fully made-up the word for premature here. "We should be able to get you to a hospital in time, Haneul, so I need you to keep your breathing even. Is there anything me or my son can get for you?"

She looks at him, red-cheeked and teary-eyed, and at first he thinks she's about to smack him for being so spectacularly unhelpful, but it turns out it's just her thinking face.

"Can someone let Eugene know to come to Seoul?" she says at long last, breathing a little too shallow but much calmer than she was at the start.

They sort out numbers and location and last names, and a stewardess bustles off to let the pilots put in the call to ground control to summon Eugene from California, and that seems to go some way towards making her ease up a little.

"Anything else?" Bruce asks gently. "A snack? Water, maybe?"

"A distraction," she says decisively. "Tell me about your son's birth, what it was like." She shakes their joined hands, Damian still perched on his little table. "Tell me about him as a baby and how he grew up so well." Tremulously, with great aplomb even as discomfort screwing her whole face off, she smiles at Damian. "I want to take notes."

What an unfortunate request. Bruce keeps it off his face, would sooner pull off said face than let even a hint of the complicated nature of Damian's birth come across the crease of an eye or the moue of a lip. Instead, with dishonest cheer, he says "Unfortunately, I couldn't be there when he was born. The life of a doctor's pretty uncertain, and I really, deeply regret that I didn't get to hold him when being held would've been a brand new experience for him."

This makes Haneul smile both harder and wobblier. "Same for Eugene, then. But you turned out okay, didn't you baby? Got held lots and lots when your busy papa finally got to reach you?"

Damian can't control his face quite so well as Bruce (this is a blessing), so he looks like what he's feeling; a young boy grappling with quite a heavy topic in the company of an unwell civvy who's Going Through It. "My father is not one for holding very much," he says diplomatically, still honest and earnest all the way through. "But when right back to Haneulhe did reach me, then he became my father." Damian pointedly doesn't look at Bruce, can't, maybe, and Bruce wants to hold him and hold him and hold him (but he doesn't know how). "When you love them when it's time to love them, children will grow up well." A furtive, glancing look Bruce's way then n. "I want to take notes."

Haneul's fully crying again, which is incredibly valid. "You're such a good boy," she says between hiccuping sobs. "Baby, you're such a good boy, and Eugene's going to be such a good papa, and doctor, you're such a good father."

She cries and cries and Damian rips open a fresh moist towelette for her and makes her drink some orange juice and keeps his careful hold on her and Bruce isn't generally one given to sentimentality but he wishes, briefly and bitterly, that Talia could be here to see this, see their son who wasn't held enough and wasn't loved enough still be filled with so much hot-hearted good that he's comforting a woman on what may well be the worst day of her life.

Bruce kind of wants a moist towelette himself. "We all do our best, Haneul."

And as he struggles to come up with something hearty and warm to say, something even a fraction so filled with care as what Damian managed, the 'fasten seatbelt sign' comes on.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a stewardess murmurs in a saviour's croon, "we will begin our descent into Incheon International Airport shortly. Please return to your seats, and fasten your seatbelts."

"We made it," Hanneul says with disbelief.

 "You made it," Bruce says, and he's suppressing a relieved grin.

"We made it," she says again more insistently, nudging shoulders with Damian who's putting away glasses and tray-tables one-handed.

"You made it," Damian reiterates, because he is, in fact, his father's son (blessedly).

-

The paramedics fully sprinted on-board with a stretcher in tow, and Haneul's wheeled away before she's fully down for it, no sweet and slow goodbyes as she shouts out her e-mail address at the top of her lungs to Bruce and Damian as she's wheeled away.

"[email protected]...." Damian says under his breath, typing it into the 'To' section of a blank e-mail.

"We'll keep an eye on her," Bruce says, because of Eugene's not here and Bruce is done playing pretend-doctor, he can pretend-partner in the shadows too. They remain in their seats, bumped-up to keep them close to her even during landing, and there's a lot of bad-natured grumbling about how hideously massive of a delay this will be for all these Important Businessmen.

Bruce finds himself not really fond of the idea of rushing back to Gotham, calling for the BatWing just so's he can go on patrol in 12 hours, back to the harsh realities of fragile relationships and necessary pragmatism.

Instead, he finds himself reaching over, mussing Damian's hair and then resting his hand on a skinny, incredibly reliable shoulder. "We have time, and we're not needed urgently back home. Anything you'd like to do, Damian? Perhaps a second visit to the zoo? We didn't get to spend much time looking at the little baby animals."

Damian turns to look at him in a rush, clearly trying to swallow down excitement. "You would be all right with returning, Father? I know you are less interested in such things."

"I think," Bruce says faintly, "I've found a new appreciation for amazing little creatures. I hope I'll get to hold one."

Damian nods with military intensity, and covers Bruce's hand on his shoulder like they're making a solemn vow. "I'll be sure to ask the staff for you, Father."

I think I'm already doing pretty good, Bruce doesn't say.

#brucewayneweek #whale writing #bruce wayne #damian wayne #gen #can't believe i got the date wrong??? lads we're off to a bad start (but we're off!!)

[ofsvnshine]

lee jong suk, cis man, 34 / 340 , daemati high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems CHOI DOHYUN has finally made it to the capital, the SPYMASTER from WINTER COURT is said to be CLEVER and is said to describe themselves with THE BITTER WINDS OF WINTER'S MORNING, WHISPERS OF OLD WOUNDS UPON YOUR SKIN, EMBRACING THE DARKNESS TO BECOME LIMITLESS  and with all of this in mind their RUTHLESS nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

statistics :

label: the cataclysmic. 

positive traits: clever, attentive, determined.

negative traits: ruthless, aloof, quiet.

orientation: bisexual, biromantic.

gender: cis man ( he / him pronouns ).

age: 34 340.

species: daemati high fae.

profession: spymaster.

court: winter.

abilities: immortality, winnowing, astral projection, ice manipulation, mind control, infiltration & shattering.

mbti: istj.

zodiac: scorpio.

noteworthy features: scars littering his arms and torso from previous confrontations and wounds, tattoo on his forearm from a bargain that he much rather not speak about, typically with deep bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.

introduction :

violence tw, isolation tw, abuse tw, muder tw

you were the only son of the most well known and hired hitman within the winter court, perhaps even within all of prythian.

you never knew of your mother and you learned very early on to not ask questions about her, her memory forever remaining nothing more than a distant image, a part never truly unlocked in your brain.

despite having a child, your father refused to let anything keep him from his work. you were much more of an inconvenience to him rather than anything else, but perhaps a foolish sense of pride is what kept him from handing you off to someone far more equipped to raise you. so you were brought along, tagging along to places that no child should have ever been, seeing things that no child ever should have. but you didn't know any different, and your father was your world. all you ever wanted was to make him happy.

once he discovered your ability, you quickly become more of a weapon than a boy or a son to him. you now had a purpose for him, a reason to be there and no longer just an inconvenience amidst his travels. so he tirelessly trained you, needing your powers to be stronger than ever for when it came to interrogating strangers to find the whereabouts of whoever he had been hired to find, your powers making it far more easier than doing so before.

and since you were always on the move with your father, you never had any semblance of stability. you never had a home. you never grew up socializing with children your age, the only one who taught you anything was your father and therefore your education is severely limited beyond physical strength and the bare necessities. in social situations you feel out of place, out of practice and unsure how to contribute to conversations effectively.

you didn't realize just how much of a disservice that your father did until you both were brought in to the presence of the high family as your father's skills were needed with the sudden open position of the spymaster of the winter court.

while there you began to realize just how abnormal your childhood was. you began to realize just how much your father used you, crafted you into the weapon rather than man.

and you felt lost. violence and turbulence was all you knew. and as usual, with violence was the only way you knew how to solve things.

you used your powers on your father, just as he taught you, leading to his death. you took his position immediately, the only thing you felt you were really ever going to be good at.

and you are. you are highly feared and respected as the spymaster of the winter court. you are able to get information out of people incredibly easy with your powers and use it to your advantage. you are incredibly loyal to the high lady, especially after the loss of her family.

you are lost without a sense of purpose, a sense of someone to answer to without your father so you throw all of your time into your work. and as much as you hate your father, with each day you fear you are becoming more and more like him.

the invitation to the capital is an extremely welcomed one. while the more reserved side of you is anxious about being around so many people, the change of scenery is much needed. you're still searching for your real purpose, perhaps you'll find it there.

wanted connections:

idk someone give him a kiss he needs it ( no but fr someone who is a good influence on him and can see past the big scary facade he puts up and find the real person behind it all bc he deserves that. ill sob thanks ), best friend / confidant, enemies, ex friends, the person he has a bargain with !! idk i just figure its spicy and there's some drama involved but we can plot specifics bc i didn't get that far, opposites attract friendship, more tbd !

#ofcourtfables:intro #* dohyun / introduction. #abuse tw #murder tw #isolation tw #violence tw #the man is a walking tw im sorry