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petrichor-han · 3 months

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idiosyncrasies and other little things; hansol vernon chwe

PAIRING | stoner!vernon x afab!reader

CAST | hansol vernon chwe

WC | 5.5k

GENRE | smut, fluff, very slight angst, college!au, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

WARNINGS | casual marijuana usage (hitting the penjamin and smokin' a j), explicit language, explicit sexual content, miscommunication :( but happy ending :), embarrassing scene where he hugs reader in public

SYNOPSIS | you’ve been friends with vernon chwe ever since you met him at freshman orientation and he slipped you a messily rolled joint behind the tour guide’s back. three and a half years later his rolling skills aren’t the only thing that’s changed for the better, but you begin to realize that your time with him is running out as your graduation date steadily approaches.

A/N | i don’t know who started the stoner!vernon trope but thank you and god bless to whoever it was 🙏 here’s my contribution to the trope—a very american COLLEGE 🦅🇺🇸 stoner vern au. please reblog and consider leaving a few kind words if you enjoyed this fic!! <3

request to be added to current and future taglists HERE!

MASTERLIST | SEVENTEEN MASTERLIST

His fingers are slightly clammy as they brush against yours and drop the small, cylindrical shaped joint in your hand. You enclose your fingers around it as he retracts his hand, his flushed skin brushing against yours once more just momentarily—but it’s enough to make you almost choke on your own breath.

The joint itself is small and messily packed—you can tell from the way it’s already all bent out of shape and dented, simply from him handing it to you. The rolling paper is slightly damp as well—from his sweaty palms, or yours? Likely, both. Regardless, it’s a kind gesture, and you can’t help but flash him a smile as the cheery RA rambles on in front of your entire small group. You can feel yourself drifting away from the scene, everyone’s voices getting drowned out as your gaze locks with his—his eyes are a warm, hazel-y color that reminds you of new leaves sprouting across warm caramel colored branches in the springtime, and you can’t help but stare back at him, your hand squeezing into a fist and further squishing the joint in your hand with a soft crunch.

Crunch.

You open your eyes, and then immediately narrow them at the culprit of the sound, the one that’s responsible for waking you from your dream of the past. It’s no other than the other main character in said dream—your best friend and roommate, Vernon Chwe. He stands at your bedside, shoving bites of cereal into his mouth as he watches you sleep, with a smirk on his face.

“What the hell do you want?” you say, your voice quite bitter and laced with a raspy quality that only occurs in the early moments of your awakening.

“You were saying my name in your sleep,” Vernon says, around a mouthful of cornflakes and granola. Somehow, he wedges a grin in there as well, his mouth full of smugness and off-brand cereal. “I heard you when I was walking by, so I came in.”

You feel your stomach flip—firstly, you weren’t aware that you ever talked in your sleep, and secondly, out of everyone you could’ve been dreaming about, it had to be the one person you currently live with? Trying to be nonchalant, you close your eyes again and turn over so that he can’t see your face, unable to prevent the heat that’s rising to your cheeks as you think about the not so minor crush that you’ve been nursing on your best friend for the past four years. “Yeah, I was dreaming about our freshman orientation. I was saying your name because I remembered how you made me late for class the next day,” you say, walking the fine line between honesty and fibbing.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he says, rolling his eyes. He sets his spoon down in his cereal bowl with a clink. “You’ve only reminded me daily, for the past four years, about how I abandoned you at the dining hall. How was I supposed to know you didn’t know your way to class from there?” he asks, making the same excuse he’s made for the past four years.

“It was the first day of class for us, ever. I didn’t know where anything was,” you retaliate, with the same retort you’ve used in response to Vernon for as long as you can remember.

“Good to know that you feel the same about me in your dreams and real life,” he snorts, turning on his heel to leave your room. His cereal bowl is empty, and he has class in just half an hour—you know this, having lived with him for roughly three years now. His habits haven’t changed much, and disappointingly, neither has your dynamic. After your initial crush on him during your freshman orientation, it fizzled out once you realized he didn’t seem to have any romantic interest in you. However, a hint of a crush remained, despite your best efforts to quench it. Certain things, like the way he had a turtle shaped night light in his dorm room, or the way he looked during finals week when his hair was all messy and hastily stuffed underneath a hood or a beanie, made your heart race no matter how you tried to stop it.

Really, there was just something about Vernon Chwe that your heart—and your mind—couldn’t forget, no matter how much you wanted to.

No matter how close you got to him as a friend, and now as a roommate, a part of you was always hoping for more. Every little touch made your eyes immediately fixate on his expression, to see if he felt anything. Every kind gesture made you wonder if he was just doing something nice for a friend, or if he was doing it for a different reason. After all, he was the sort of person that was just generally nice to everyone, even complete strangers. His inclination of kindness to strangers was sort of the way that you two met—him slipping you a joint in the middle of a lousy speech from an annoying RA about dormitory safety. An unspoken promise to new friendship, and also to meet in the woods behind the dorm building after the horribly optimistic speech ended.

As you ponder this, you consider staying in bed longer, pulling the sheets over your head and trying to fall back asleep, but then you decide against it—it’s not worth running the risk of sleeping through class. Though your first class doesn’t start as early as Vernon’s, it’s not that much later either. Sighing, you get out of bed, rubbing your tired eyes, and start to get ready for the day.

As you brush your teeth, Vernon peeks into your bathroom, as he fixes the sleeve on his denim jacket. You turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“We should probably start packing tonight,” he says, as he finally fixes the button on the sleeve of his jacket and looks at you directly, his eyes meeting yours. You look away, feeling your heart starting to thump in your chest, and spit a glob of toothpaste into the sink. You turn on the water, watching it wash the foamy white substance down the drain, as Vernon continues to talk. “We have to move out by next week, but I think we can just start throwing our shit into boxes and call it good. It won’t be that hard.”

Right.

After four years of college—three of which were spent living together—it was time to move on, graduate, and be a real god damn adult. You almost swallow the toothpaste residue in your mouth as Vernon reminds you of this harsh reality. In about a week, you wouldn’t be living with your best friend any more, but instead living at home with your parents until you find a place and job of your own. And with the current state of the job market, you had no clue how long that would take. The thought of living at home again as an adult made you want to rip out your hair, but it was the better option when you considered the other one was to confess your feelings to Vernon and ask him to get a place together, as a couple instead of as friends.

You take a deep breath. Technically, you didn’t have to confess your feelings. But how much longer could you go on like this, living with someone that you’re secretly pining for? It was fine during the on and off crushes you had on him throughout college, but as your senior year progressed, so did your crush on him. Now, it was nearly stifling to pretend you didn’t harbor any romantic feelings towards him, and act like you didn’t care whenever he mentioned some romantic venture or Tinder hookup (though, luckily for you, they were quite sporadic and never turned into anything that serious).

“Yeah, we could start with the shared spaces and start dividing up all the stuff there,” you say, thinking about all of the knick knacks that litter the shelves and walls of your living room and kitchen. You rinse your mouth, and then start to wash your face. Vernon leans against your doorframe, watching you.

“How are we supposed to split up the things that we’ve shared for the past few years?” he asks, watching as you pat your face dry with a towel. “I’d feel bad keeping them, but I’d feel sad if I didn’t get to keep anything, either.”

“We’ll figure it out, now go,” you say, nudging him out of the bathroom. You can feel your emotions threatening to climb up your throat and spill from your lips—he looked so handsome standing there, leaning so casually against your door. His hair, slightly grown out and wavy, was falling into his hazel-y brown eyes as he looked at you. How were you meant to resist that look, especially when he paired it with a subtle pout upon his lips? It made you blush and your mind go fuzzy with adoration. Purely embarrassing—it was like you were a tween girl fawning over her first crush.

“Wait, don’t you want to smoke before we go to class?” he asks, deepening his pout and holding up a joint that he pulled from his pocket.

“Smoke, before we go to class,” you emphasize to clarify, raising an eyebrow. Vernon simply nods, a smile gracing his stupidly handsome face.

“It’s the last week of class, come on. We’re not learning anything new any more,” he says, his voice slightly whiny. You can’t help but feel slightly happy that he wants you to smoke with him so bad—it’s nice to feel wanted by him. “And besides, it’s only a little.” He pinches his thumb and pointer finger together and squints. “Lil’ bit.”

You almost roll your eyes, but catch yourself, and just chuckle instead. You want to cherish these moments, before you move out and all the memories of living with Vernon inevitably pale and then fade away. “Fine,” you say. “Let me finish getting ready for class first, I’ll be right out.”

With a gummy smile that almost makes you physically sick with how adorable it is, Vernon leaves you to finish getting ready.

A few minutes later, you’re pulling a jacket on over your thin shirt—it’s still a little chilly in the mornings—and walking out of your bedroom. Vernon’s standing by the large window in the main room of your apartment—the only one that opens more than a few inches. He’s opened it all the way, and he’s leaning out, enjoying the morning air. He has a slight smile on his face as a breeze rustles his soft brown hair.

Sneaking up behind him, you snatch the joint from his unprepared, loose grip and exclaim in triumph. “Got it!” you sing, grinning as you dance around him. You hold it between your teeth gently as you hold still for a moment to light it, inhaling deeply. You lean out the window next to Vernon, who’s still softly chuckling at your antics, and pass the joint to him as you hold the breath for a moment before exhaling. Coughing, you look over at him. “This tastes kinda strong,” you choke, your eyes watering slightly.

“I had to get out the good stuff for our last week living together,” he says, grinning cheekily. “Have fun in class while being baked out of your mind.”

“Fuck you, man,” you groan, but he just snickers and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. Your cheeks flush as you feel his lean, muscular body pressed to yours.

“Come on, you know you feel great right now,” he teases lightly, gently squeezing you in a side hug.

Stiffening, you chuckle awkwardly, feeling your heart beating faster. You were afraid he might be able to hear it, but a small part of you almost wanted him to hear it—to know the truth about how he made you feel. That, paired with the weed in your system, made you lean into his touch more, instead of pulling away like you normally would. He grins at this, and reaches up to ruffle your hair gently. He doesn’t say anything else, letting up on the teasing—which you’re grateful for, as it allows you to fully concentrate on the smell of his cologne and the deep, steady thudding of his heartbeat.

You watch as he turns his head away for a moment to take another hit from the joint, his neck muscles flexing beneath his beautiful, smooth skin. The sharp curve of his jawline clenches as he tightens his lips around the joint, inhaling deeply. He looks like some sort of god—how was it possible for a human being to be this ethereal, this close to perfection?

It comes out before you can stop it—before you even fully realize what you’re doing, and surely before you even think about the consequences of it.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your voice is soft and full of adoration—even the most clueless romantic would be able to pick up on it. Immediately, you press your lips together, in fear of more word vomit—or real vomit—escaping.

Vernon stiffens, and then he pulls away as he starts to choke on the deep inhale he’d just taken, clouds of smoke billowing around his face as he leans out the window to try and wave the stench of marijuana outside. Your blood turns to ice as you scramble for an excuse; you’re given a short window of time as he practically hacks up his own lungs and hangs onto the windowsill for dear life.

You flinch as his coughing starts to subside, and you realize you still don’t have anything else to say—no excuse, no explanation—your mind has simply gone blank.

Naturally, you do the first thing that any intoxicated, lovesick person would do in this situation—you run away from it.

You turn on your heel, grabbing your backpack from its place on the coat hooks by the front door, and run out of the apartment that you and Vernon share. You’re not sure if he turned to look at you, if he even saw you running away—you didn’t bother to turn around and break your own heart further.

Even though it’s still an hour before your class starts, you find yourself ambling towards the general direction of the building regardless. Your apartment complex is quite close to your college campus, but it still takes a short while to walk there.

If there was one lucky thing about your abysmal morning, it was the weather. As you start to slow your pace, looking over your shoulder to make sure Vernon isn’t following you or anything, the bright morning sunshine smiles down on you. There’s only a few clouds in the sky, and they’re puffy and white, drifting lazily across the wide blue expanse. Other students are enjoying the sunshine, already out and about in the early morning and sunbathing or throwing a ball around on the field across from the building you’re currently walking to. You almost crack a smile—it reminds you of the first year that you attended school on this campus, when you and Vernon attempted to follow the masses and try to sunbathe on the field, only to end up getting horribly sunburnt in the process. “It’s not even summer yet!” Vernon had protested angrily, as he rubbed aloe into his lobster red skin, sitting on the patchwork rug on the floor of your tiny dorm room. “It’s only the beginning of May!”

You approach your destination with a grim look on your face. No longer are you among the dozens of bright, young faces that are enjoying the sunshine in their best years. Now, you’re facing adulthood—and likely, without your best friend by your side, since you’ve clearly retained your childish insistence upon avoiding your problems and quite literally running away from them. The thought makes your chest ache with longing and regret, so you push the thought from your mind and start to walk up the stairs, almost grateful for the guaranteed to be boring lecture—maybe it’ll take your mind off of things for a bit?

Unfortunately, as you reach the top of the stairs, you see Vernon standing by the front entrance, checking his phone with a worried expression on his face. For a moment, you freeze—this is a chance to correct your wrongdoings, to show your growth and be honest with Vernon, as he deserves.

But it’s just a fleeting thought, and humans are inherently selfish, after all.

So you run away again. Slower this time, simply walking back down the stairs with your heart thudding madly in your chest, hoping that he doesn’t recognize you. Your guilt increases as you realize he’s missing class while he’s waiting for you, and you stop walking, freezing as you cling to the railing of the staircase. He’s your best friend—outside of your romantic feelings for him, whether they’re reciprocated or not, he deserves better. Yet you stand there, your feet stuck to the concrete as you hesitate, even though you know it’s the right thing to do. It’s so difficult to turn around and really face it.

A gentle call of your name unfreezes you, allowing you to turn around and look.

It’s Vernon of course—it always has been, and it always will be.

His brow is furrowed, and as he realizes it is indeed you, he rushes towards you, taking the steps two at a time to get to you faster. Before you can even say anything in return, he engulfs you in a hug, wrapping his arms around you and gently placing a hand on the back of your head to press your face gently into his chest. His smell floods your senses, and tears prick your eyes. If there was some sort of higher being out there, how could they prevent you from having this simple joy in your life? The joy of being able to smell his cologne as he hugged you and pulled you close. There was nothing else that compared.

“Why’d you run?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion, with relief. “I was worried. It’s not like you.”

It is like me, you think, grimly. “I don’t know. I thought you might get angry with me,” you mutter, embarrassment flooding your body as Vernon raises an eyebrow at you.

“What, for calling me beautiful?” he asks, chuckling slightly, nearly in disbelief.

“Not exactly,” you reply hastily, pulling away from the hug. People around you are beginning to look at the two of you as you’re locked in an embrace, and you don’t want to attract any more attention than you already have. It’s humiliating enough for only Vernon to hear your confession, even though it’s meant for him. “For liking you as more than a friend.”

Is there a word to describe the feeling that went through your body as you said those few words? It felt comparable to ice flooding your veins, to a wave of electricity running through your body—yet somehow, more deep and cutting and painful than either of those examples. There simply isn’t any expression or euphemism in the language to explain the horror and fear you felt as you watched Vernon’s eyes widen—so he hadn’t picked up on it, even then? Even after you called him beautiful, and ran away like a lovesick fool? Maybe you’re not the most clueless romantic—he’s the first, and you’re the lucky second.

“You like me?” he asks, dumbfounded. He raises his eyebrows so high that his forehead wrinkles, that you can see the whites of his eyes.

You look at the ground, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the concrete. “Yeah,” you mumble, unsure of how you’re feeling—a complex mixture of shame, relief, fear, and everything in between.

A dreadful silence falls between the two of you, prompting you to look up at him to hopefully understand a smidge of what he’s thinking. He looks gorgeous in the morning sunlight, and he reaches up to scratch his head, his expression simply perplexed. “… Why?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.

You’re surprised—Vernon, ever the predictable, introverted creature, has surprised you for the first time in years. How doesn’t he know? How doesn’t he understand?

You stand there, your tongue feeling swollen in your mouth as you file through your thoughts, desperately trying to encompass your nearly suffocating, complex emotions into words. It’s much harder to do when put on the spot, however, and you stand there spluttering like an idiot as you try to tell him something about the way his jeans fit on his hips and the way he only ever uses Dior Sauvage (a dab on the wrist and then rubbed onto his neck just below the jawline).

“I don’t know how to explain it to you,” you say, frantically, hoping that you won’t scare him away or freak him out. “It’s so many little things about you that made me realize how much I love you, in more ways than just friendship. I think… I think the mere idea of living without you and your nightlight and your stupid granola cereal is horrible. I don’t want to imagine it, let alone live it.” You throw your hands up in the air, feeling helpless, like you don’t know what else to do or say. “Fuck, dude. I just love you. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I just don’t ever want to lose you. I lived so many years without you but I can’t go back to that now. Not when I know what it’s like to be close to you.”

Your voice is soft at the end, as you’re afraid you might start to really cry, and you cross your arms over your chest and look down again, trying to will away the emotions that are surfacing after being bottled up for so long.

“You know I love you too, right?” Vernon says, his voice serious. He reaches forward to gently pull your arms out of the insecure position, and he laces his fingers with yours. “Even if I didn’t feel the same way, you’d still be my best friend.”

Squeezing his hands gently, you feel a million emotions rush through you at once—mainly relief, and then shock as you realize he feels the same way. You look up at him with desperate hope, tears burning your eyes, and find that he has the same expression on his face. He leans in slightly, and your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s trying to initiate. Breathless, and tired of waiting, you lean forward too and press your lips to his, your heart fluttering as he kisses you back almost immediately, after his initial surprise.

“Does this mean we can both skip class today?” he asks hopefully, mumbling against your lips.

You chuckle, gently swinging your interlocked hands back and forth. “Yes,” you say, unable to resist his charms this time. “Let’s go home.”

Upon returning to your shared apartment, you see the few empty boxes littering the ground; you were both meant to start packing today. However, instead of feeling the deep sense of dread that had been bubbling up inside of you for weeks, you feel peace—you aren’t losing Vernon the day you move out, he was always going to be there for you. Whether that was as a friend, a roommate, or a boyfriend.

He seems to sense your contemplation, and gently presses a kiss to the top of your head. You can sense his hesitation, like he’s unsure if it’s something you’ll allow, and so you pull him into another passionate kiss, gently at first before descending into a mess of teeth and tongue.

He pushes you down onto the couch, as if his desire had been pent up all this time, admiring the view as you stare up at him with wide eyes—you’re surprised at his sudden passion.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, as he leans down to kiss your neck. His hands travel down to the hem of your shirt, but don’t slip underneath, waiting for your reassurance once again. Perhaps, another little thing that you liked about Vernon—his subtle submissiveness; his tendency and instinct to let you guide him. Something that was so rare among men, despite how childish the average one seems to be.

You reach down to gently guide his hands beneath your shirt, and when his hands cup your breasts his breath hitches slightly, as if he’s in disbelief that this is actually happening. He squeezes gently, eliciting a soft sigh from you. Groaning lowly, he pushes up your shirt—the mere feeling isn’t enough, he wants to see all of you as well.

A swift tangle of limbs, and your shirt flutters to the ground, discarded and forgotten about. Vernon’s eyes settle on your cleavage, the way your bra is slightly too tight on you (you’ve been putting off finding out your actual bra size; it’s a hassle) and makes your breasts spill over the cups slightly. His hands actually shake slightly as they raise up to cup your tits again, and he handles them gently, as if he’s afraid handling you too hard might cause you to melt in his hands, as if you were Icarus and he were the sun. You reach back to unclasp your bra, too impatient to let him attempt it, and he gently pulls it off of you, his eyes widening as he exhales deeply, in genuine awe of your body.

He leans forward, his hands sliding down to grab your waist, and presses gentle but sloppy kisses to your collarbone, his lips trailing down to the valley of your breasts. He moans against them, in absolute bliss. “Wanna see more of you… can I see more of you?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled as he keeps his face pressed in your cleavage.

“Greedy,” you tease, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully, making him exclaim softly in exasperation. But you make it obvious what your answer is, as you reach down to undo the button of your jeans, climbing out of his lap to tug them off of your body. Vernon watches for a moment, mouth slightly agape as his gaze drops to the curve of your hips and the way your panties hug your ass just right, before he realizes that he should probably start taking off his clothes too. Blushing slightly, he hurries to take off his t-shirt, throwing it behind the couch accidentally and deciding that he would deal with it later. His fingers feel frozen and stubborn as he fumbles with his belt, and you have to stifle a giggle at his persistent awkwardness as you lay back on the couch lazily, your fingers skimming the edge of your panties.

Eventually, he gets the buckle undone and shoves his jeans down his legs. Once he straightens back up after stepping out of his pants, you feel a distinct throbbing between your legs as you see the noticeable bulge in his black boxer briefs. He notices your stare, and instead of teasing you, his cheeks flush darker as he kneels between your legs, hovering over you.

“You know it’s been a while since I’ve…” he says, trailing off. He looks away, clearing his throat and pretending like the deep red flush on his cheeks is nonexistent.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget the last Tinder hookup?” you say, chuckling despite the pang of hurt that cuts through your chest at the mere thought of Vernon being with anyone else besides you. “Why do you ask, though?”

Vernon clears his throat again, and you can’t help but let a little giggle slip this time at his demeanor, like he’s trying to impress you a little even though it’s just you. “I just… I wanna be good for you,” he says, his voice slightly whiny and desperate, making your mouth go dry. “I don’t want to disappoint you,” he pushes further, one of his hands sliding down the dip of your waist to grab the curve of your hip, squeezing gently.

“You won’t. You couldn’t,” you manage to say, swallowing hard as you feel heat rising to your cheeks—surely, soon your blush will resemble Vernon’s. “I just want you.”

Upon hearing that, Vernon groans softly, capturing your lips in a hot, messy kiss once more. You feel his tongue pressing against your lower lip, and you allow him entrance, whimpering softly as his free hand comes up to gently caress your jaw and pull you even closer. As if you could get any closer; your bare body pressed to his, your skin nearly melded together in a clash of perspiration and friction as you cling to each other desperately. Your mind is fuzzy with need as you reach down to swiftly pull off your panties, kicking them aside as Vernon follows your lead and pushes down his boxer briefs. Sneaking a glance before he pushes you down gently and positions himself between your legs, you feel a flash of excitement and anticipation as you see his size.

You catch your lower lip between your teeth, biting gently before letting go, exhaling deeply as you feel the blunt head of his cock slicking against your clit, and then against your entrance. He mutters, fuck, under his breath as he feels your silky folds against his tip, and as he presses harder against your tight hole, he looks up at you, catching your eye to make sure you still want this as much as he does. You give a slight nod, your gaze pleading with him to just do it already, and he does—he thrusts forward, pressing his cock into you, making your eyes widen and a high pitched whimper escapes your throat.

“Oh my God,” you say breathlessly, a slight moan edging into your voice as he bottoms out in your pussy, his hips flush against your supple flesh. One of his hands rests faithfully on your waist, just above your hip, while the other wanders up to gently squeeze your breasts. He can feel so much of you, and he wants more—perhaps greedy was the right word to describe him. He doesn’t think that he could ever go back to just being your friend, even if it’s selfish to think as much. Naturally, that’s when you choose to say it. “I love you,” you whisper, this time knowing exactly what you’re saying and not caring about the consequences. Vernon’s greedy heart flutters at your heartfelt declaration of love, and he leans down to kiss you as he starts to thrust into you, his hips smacking against yours as he fucks into you desperately, mercilessly.

“I love you too,” he moans, his grip on your waist tightening. It’s all he can muster out as he pounds into you, his thoughts clouded with pleasure and the absolutely ethereal sight of you, nude before his very eyes, all for his viewing pleasure and no one else’s.

He can feel it, and he knew from the beginning that he wouldn’t last long—which was why he was so concerned about it in the first place. He stifles a whine, and bites his tongue as he moves the hand that’s squeezing your tit down to toy with your clit, eliciting a gasp and a shaky moan from you. His fingers are slightly rough, calloused, and the friction on your sensitive nub makes you throw your head back as you moan with pleasure, feeling your orgasm starting to approach from the combined stimulation. You reach over to grab his arm, trying to steady yourself as you feel the powerful sensation approaching. The sound of skin against skin echoes around the room as he fucks into you more erratically, panting loudly. His fingers on your clit start to slip around from your wetness and his waning stamina, but he steadies himself and bites down on his lower lip, trying to hold out for you, just a little longer.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave, washing over your entire body and making you gasp and shiver. Vernon feels your pussy tightening around his length, his eyes widening as he pulls out quickly, groaning loudly as he spurts thick white ropes of cum onto your thighs and stomach. Breathing heavily, he lays down beside you, rolling onto his back. You both stare up at the ceiling, without saying anything. For a moment, the two of you lay there in near silence, as you catch your breaths and realize what really just happened. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Vernon shifting, turning his head to look at you.

You look back. He smiles at you, and you can’t help but return it, giggling at his goofy grin, at his messy hair, at everything. It’s all so perfect—he’s so perfect, in a way that only the two of you will ever understand.

Wordlessly, he reaches over to your coffee table and picks up one of his cartridges, attached to a battery. He hands it to you before taking a hit himself, grinning at you toothily, and you can’t help but grin back as you take the pen from him.

Truly, it’s the little things.

#kflixnet #k-labels #k-vanity #vernon x reader #vernon smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #chwe vernon x reader #svt x reader #vernon imagine #seventeen imagine #svt imagine

368 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 1 year

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summary: in which jungkook is too lazy to shower and you’re too weak to resist each other.

> est. relationship, fluff, v brief smut bc aftercare, some angst / wc: 4.7k

> warnings: subby!jk, implied edg♡ng and or♡l (and mention of f. receiving), brief h♡ndj♡b, c♡m eat♡ng, oc lowkey possessive oop, jungkook cries bc he is so full of love then i cried too </3 oc washes jk in the bathtub <3

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is stepping up what else can i say 🤷 and yea it’s jk at the ck event for the second part <3 this is… the sexiest time u’ll get from me i just felt the need to establish exactly how jk is smitten for oc. like i need u to understand!!!! before the next drabble bcoz 🥲 as alwaysss i love hearing your thoughts thru comments/reblog/asks !! <3

—

jungkook’s rhythmic knocking prompts you to blindly fumble for the handle with a slippery hand, sliding the glass door open to get rid of the barrier separating the two of you.

“what?” you mumble, eyes squeezed shut as you spread the shampoo in your hair.

your boyfriend gingerly wipes away the bubbles posing threat to your vision, allowing you to finally open your eyes and bask in his breathtaking beauty this fine morning. he stands by the door wearing only his black boxers, untamed hair and starry eyes softening the edges of your sharp temper. you will never not hate waking up early.

his voice is muffled by the pink toothbrush hanging from his lips as he beseeches you, deliberately using the charm of his pleading doe eyes.

“will you wash me, too…? i’m so tired, baby. i barely slept.”

“okay, babe.” you let out a sigh as you turn on the shower again. “but don’t get frisky. i can’t be late for work again.”

your approval makes his face light up as bright as a clear, sunny sky. why is he acting as if this is the very first time he will be standing underneath the shower with you? you fail to keep an endeared smile at bay.

“wait for me, okay?! i’ll just feed song and ppaeng real fast.”

he carefully closes the glass door, and then you hear it — his heavy feet stomping on the floor as he runs out of the bathroom as if he’s being chased by the hands of the clocks in the apartment.

“so annoying.” you snicker humorously, burying your face in your hands as you allow the water to wash away the thick foam from your hair.

—

“so annoying!” you exclaim as you turn off the shower for the final time, wholeheartedly meaning it this time around. you even took your time washing the conditioner off your hair and cleaning your body, but your patience has thinned and disintegrated into dust.

you reach for your towel, and in that moment, jungkook finally barges in the room.

“you’re finished?!”

your piercing glare meets his ingenuous doe eyes, and he winces guiltily.

“i got distracted with chores. sorry.” he bravely takes several steps closer, stealing a quick peck from your lips. “but i packed up your lunch so you’re ready to go.”

as of recent, your boyfriend has added cooking your lunch to his daily routine so you can spend your midday break at the park instead of a busy and stuffy restaurant. and although you’re dreading the exhausting day that awaits once you step foot outside the house, your heart melts when you think about the hour reserved for you to savor the food he cooked with love from his heart. it’s so easy to feel isolated in this world, but if you think about how the food that you eat requires effort and care to be made beyond fuel to live, doesn’t it make you feel a little lucky to be here?

“i guess i have some time to wash your hair.”

“i’ll take it!” he almost cuts you off, jumping at the offer before another precious millisecond is wasted.

you chuckle at his ardent display of eagerness. “will you fetch my robe then?”

—

jungkook comfortably settles in the far left of the drop-in bathtub where the showerhead is attached to the wall. meanwhile, you’re by his side facing him, sitting on the second step of the low white chair stool you both agreed to buy specifically for this type of situation.

with the heel of his palm, he wipes away the lone tear that trickles down his cheek as he lets go of another irrepressible yawn. he thought that the iced americano he was leisurely drinking in the kitchen already woke him up, yet here he is being lulled to sleep once more.

it was wrong of him to expect you to simply drizzle products on his hair and wash them off in a hurry. so wrong. you refuse to live your life halfheartedly, and that bleeds into your daily actions, he realizes.

you didn’t forget to comb his hair, untangling the knots painstakingly, before instructing him to sit under the shower. and once you were finished with generously applying the shampoo to cover his head, your artful fingers weave into his long hair to massage his scalp in small, circular movements. it’s not much, but you’re hoping that even with only five minutes of this small gesture, you can bring him some sort of comfort after having a bad night’s sleep.

“ah- this feels so nice. you’re healing me.” he sighs in relief, instinctively leaning into your affectionate touches.

you swoop in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before you take a peek at his phone. he has been diligently protecting it from the water, along with his hands.

“so, you’re buying a new polaroid camera?”

he nods, round eyes anchored in the screen as he reviews the product description displayed. “i couldn’t sleep so i started checking them out last night. i don’t really know what i’m looking for this time… i just want it to be black.”

“what made you think of it so suddenly?” you curiously inquire, ignoring the growing soreness in your arms as your fingers travel their way down to the lower half of his hair, consistent with the light pressure to release his tension.

“i want to do that thing.”

“what thing?”

“you know… tha-that thing, putting a photo of your favorite person on the back of your phone.” he stutters, lips curving into a sheepish smile. “you do it, too. sometimes.”

you snort, cracking up in laughter as you’re reminded of a running gag in your relationship. every time they have a new album release, he goes out of his way to ask for his photocards so he can jokingly present them to you as gifts since he’s your ‘favorite idol’. you do own quite a lot of phone cases, including a transparent that you use every and now then. the last one you put in the back of it was a random from his photofolio, the one in which he was doing a kissy face. how many people out there can say that their boyfriend was a vampire once?

“don’t laugh!” he whines grumpily. “you need to pose for them cutely, okay?”

“i’ll dress myself up prettier so you’ll look at me longer than the screen.”

a brand new camera always means having jungkook follow you around like a lost puppy, devoted to learning how to use it as an expert photographer and filmographer.

“but you better be sure not to burn my eyes with the flash again.”

it’s an honest mistake he’s done one too many times, even with his phone.

he scrunches his nose in shame, cackling. “it will never happen again. never. i really, really, really mean it this time.”

“sure, i should trust you.” you grimace, picking up the scalp brush on your lap before standing up to grab the shower head. “put your phone away now.”

swift to obey, he stands up to cross the distance between him and the highest floating shelf where you store the essential oils and small towels, leaving the device in between them for meantime. when he returns to his previous position, you begin rinsing his hair.

“wait- you hold this instead.” you hand him the shower, which he accepts unwittingly, moving it back and forth so he’s covering the entire area.

while he does that, you use his purple brush to be certain that the chemicals will be removed and washed away from his scalp, gentle fingers combing portions of his silky hair aside to reach every spot.

he cheesily smiles to himself under the stream of refreshingly cold water. as someone who goes out like a light when his hair is played with, jungkook is living his best life.

until he’s not.

“shit, shit, shit- i have to get dressed up.” you panic as your phone in the bedroom wildly blares the alarm sound that serves as your final warning. “oh well, i’m done anyway.”

abandoning the brush on the edge of the tub, you regain possession of the shower and run your fingers through his hair one last time for good measure, turning it off straight after.

“drive safe today. i love you. i love you. i love you.” you cage his wet face in your hands to kiss him repeatedly, tasting the coffee on his lips.

jungkook is left alone in the bathroom as you get yourself ready for work.

he side-eyes the bottle of conditioner with disgust. “guess it’s just you and me now.”

—

“i really need to shower but i don’t want to… aish, i wish i had someone to help me.” jungkook sighs dramatically as he rubs his stinging eyes. he expectantly looks over at your figure lying on the sofa, stroking your bare shins propped up by his thighs.

but you pretend that you don’t hear a single word he says, too engrossed in the anime ‘cells at work’ playing on the television to spare your boyfriend a glance. a sad frown appears on his face. he’s yearning for you after long hours of being apart.

he drops down to rest his weary body over yours, hugging your hips and face nuzzling the side of your chest. this impels you to wrap an arm around him, his half ponytail caught between your middle and ring fingers, but your hand remains idle on the back of his head.

he pitifully sobs as he whines, squeezing you tightly. “why am i like this? i don’t want to do anything… i’m too lazy… it’s seriously getting annoying now. what do i doooo?”

his speech is slightly slurred because his cheek is squished against your side. you can feel his warm breath fanning your skin, and your tickled laughter mixes in with the laughter brought by a funny scene. a minute later, the outro rolls in, which is your cue to wiggle out of his snuggling.

with his elbow anchored in the couch, jungkook watches you with disappointment swimming in his eyes as you pause the next episode and begin walking away.

“where are you going?”

you stop on your tracks, turning a little to the side to innocently flutter your lashes. “taking a shower so i can go to bed.”

your answer lights the fuse inside of jungkook, to put it lightly. still dressed in the all-black outfit he wore to an event today, minus the button-up and the stompers, he staggers on his feet. he hastily pulls out the hem of his t-shirt from being neatly tucked into his pants before bringing it over his head. he throws it aside without care, and there he stands with a sparkling silver chain dangling over his bare chest, looking like a walking daydream.

your droopy eyes widen as you’re taken aback by the rather alluring view. it seems that neither of you is making this game easy. “excuse me, mister? what are you doing?”

“well, what does it look like?” he shoots you a smirk, bangs falling over his eyes when he looks down to unbuckle his belt with practiced ease.

and you think that if you just play your cards right, he might wear them around your wrists next. oh no- no, no, no. the only restraint you should be thinking of right now is self-restraint, damn it.

“no, you’re not.”

“yes, i am.”

“no-”

“yes.”

your heart violently races when he begins wrapping the belt around his large palm, raising an eyebrow at you. but still, you stand your ground with a sweet, sarcastic smile.

“you’re not a baby. you’re 27 years old. i’m pretty sure you can shower on your own by now.”

and with that, you sprint to the bathroom before your hot boyfriend can strip off his pants, because you know it would be impossible to resist his charms then.

jungkook collapses on the couch, eyes turning into little crescent moons as uncontrollable giggles rack his body. at last, it dawns on him why you’ve been acting a certain way.

he may or may not have unintentionally snapped at his mother over the phone last night, rudely spitting out the two sentences you just used against him. despite witnessing him call and apologize not long after, you still have your own playful way of scolding him, it seems.

“what a brat.” he snorts as he chucks the belt on the table, having a feeling he will have another use for it later.

he sets his hair free from the ponytail and wears the hair tie around his wrist, running his fingers through the locks to tame the unruly mess. he shakes his head as another airy laugh is invoked from him by sheer amusement, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before he huffs.

“____ is really setting me straight like this…? ah, i’m angry!”

since he’s already half-naked anyway, he decides to remove his accessories, too. he starts with the silver bracelet around each of his wrists, tilting his head to the side as he reads the subtitle of the frozen frame on the television screen.

In the human body, there are roughly 37.2 trillion cells…

“i think i met the right person.” he nods to himself.

—

the air around him is sweltering and he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore.

“ohh fuck, fuck! i’m so— i’m so close, if you d-don’t stop-” jungkook cries out in desperation, losing any semblance of control he has over his body as he writhes on the mattress. “please, please… it feels too good, please. i’ve been behaving.”

“hm, go on, my love. want to taste you.”

your merciless hand pumps his length and your sinful lips scatter sloppy kisses along the tense muscles of his thighs. lewd, unrestrained moans escape his cerise lips as sparks of electricity burn beneath his eyelids, hips frantically rutting forward to chase his high. driven by lust in his dazed state, he holds himself up by his elbows to watch you reward his tip with languid licks of your tongue, sultry eyes staring back at him, and his head tips back into the pillows as he completely falls apart.

he lies absolutely boneless in the aftermath, mind and body floating in the abyss as he attempts to get back in touch with reality and recall his godforsaken name. his white-knuckled fist’s grip loosens, allowing his slender fingers to slip away from your hair when you remove yourself from between his legs. he covers his eyes with his tattooed arm as his chest heaves, catching his breath.

but then he is pulled out from the darkness by the sound of your giggles, bubbly and achingly familiar, coaxing his damp eyelashes to part from his flushed cheeks. with a blurry vision, he watches you scoop up some of the come that landed all over his chiseled abdomen. you push your middle and ring fingers past your lips, evidently debauched and delighted as you hum. your glasses hang loosely over your nosebridge, and he’s clueless how it managed to be clean while staying on your face.

all over again, the filthy scene pricks his skin with desire and coils the heat in his stomach… it looks reminiscent of your first kiss. but after being edged for what felt like an eternity, he’s afraid of what would become of him if he feels another ounce of pleasure.

“baby, you’re so fucking mean.” he croaks out, voice low and hoarse from choked sobs and begs. it cracks, sounding as though he doesn’t even have a voice left.

you’re more straightforward when you crave to be touched, whimpering a simple ‘i need you’ or ‘please take care of me’ with a pleading face as you play with his fingers. however, on the rare occasion that you get into a very… particular mood… you sigh and say ‘i’m bored’ before looking at him with faux innocence in your blown-out pupils… and because you’re just too damn enticing to resist, he ends up in this position — completely exposed while you’re cozily dressed in a t-shirt over your slip-on night dress, the one he was wearing before.

consequently, it has been making his life difficult. he instantly becomes turned on when you utter the commonly used words, even when there’s obviously no other meaning behind them. like when you’re in public. especially when you’re in public. he can foresee this moment flashing in his mind when he finds himself in the same predicament again. at this point, all he can say is heavens help him, he is so fucked. the angel they sent is well-versed in driving him wild.

“i love you.” he follows up, and your smile grows when you meet his hazy eyes.

“i love you more.” you reply in a sing-song voice, also raspy after having him down your throat. you bend down to plant a featherlight kiss on his pelvis, but he wants it somewhere else.

with his remaining shred of strength, he tugs at your arm to pull you in for a hungry kiss, his hand cupping your nape and his thumb rubbing your cheek. your tongue ghosts over the metal ring piercing his bottom lip, and he shakily breathes out a quiet moan.

you’re the first one to break away, pampering his lips with chaste pecks as you mumble, “my boyfriend is so pretty. mine. mine. mine. love you better than anyone could.”

jungkook’s heart does somersaults, the butterflies inside of him multiplying by the thousands with your every declaration.

you pout as you lovingly brush away the locks of hair sticking to his honey skin, glistening with sweat. “oh? are these sweat or tears? you cried again this time?”

with watering eyes, he can’t help but to dumbly stare at your glossy and swollen lips as you coo.

“but you took it so, so well. you were so perfect, baby boy. thank you.”

“don’t act so innocent.” he mutters, tattooed arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, longing for your weight on top of his. “you know what you did.”

you chuckle as you drag the blanket over his body, concerned he might freeze from the blasted airconditioner now that the ecstasy is ebbing away. “but it felt good, right? did i do anything you didn’t like?”

he gets a sinking feeling when you look at him, asking for confirmation as if you didn’t reduce him into this incoherent puddle of beyond satiated appetite. holy shit, he’s the luckiest man on earth.

“mhm-mhm. more than good… always. you’re too good to be true.”

he sighs in contentment when you offer your arm as his pillow, embracing him tightly. his eyelids flutter shut as he feels the soreness of his muscles taking reign. oddly enough, he doesn’t mind the pain at all. he revels in it, almost. gradually, his heartbeat returns at its normal rate.

he doesn’t flinch when he feels a metal straw nudging his lips, instead he sips heartily to soothe his throat. you have pink hearts for irises as you adore his face, falling in love with your lover all over again.

“i love you. you’re so cute.” you giggle, tucking his hair behind his ears as you hold the water tumbler for him. “you’re so red- especially your ears- it’s so cute.”

this makes him smile sheepishly, bunny teeth biting the straw. he pops it out of his mouth to bury his face in the crook of your neck, laughing breathily.

“well if you point it out, i’ll turn redder!”

“is that so bad? then you’ll be cuter.” you squeeze his cheeks together to tilt his head towards you. “come on. how do you feel…? maybe a bit better? let’s get cleaned up so you can rest.”

he frowns. “i want to taste you, too.”

want to get his payback, more like.

“later, my lov-”

he doesn’t waste time in ducking down, hooking a finger around the waistband of your underwear while he sucks a bruise on your inner thigh.

“jungkook!” you giggle, dragging him off you by his hair. “no! stop! i just wanted to play and make you feel good.”

he refuses to relent, stubborn in his defiance, chasing and chasing until his puckered lips touch your soft skin again, peppering sweet kisses. pulling his hair only spurs him on, it looks like, so you end up using both hands to guide his face inches from yours.

“your busy bee needs to go back to work.” you give his pout an apologetic kiss, knowing full well that you’ll be in bed for much, much longer if you indulge him.

you still need to finish the due project you abandoned in your laptop because you would rather do this. or him? for a lack of better term.

“you can do it however long you want if you wait.”

he beams upon hearing your saccharine promise, eagerly nodding in agreement. and with a naughty smile, he pushes his luck. “then will you wash me now?”

and when you take more than three seconds to answer, he rushes to defend himself with- “i deserve it this time!”

—

jungkook is still and silent as he sits across you in the bathtub, extremely drowsy after you gave him another one of your soothing scalp massages when you washed his hair. the scented candle melting over the sink mixes with the drops of lavender oil you added into the water, and not far from it is his phone playing mellow music.

however, that changes when he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“you’re too gentle. are you sure i’m being cleaned?”

an irritated expression is drawn on your face as you grab his wrist, forcefully making him hold the soapy wash cloth you just started using. “then you do it yourself so i can focus on me instead.”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” he winces when you make a move to stand up. he reflexively seizes your arm to stop you, lisp discernible as he grumbles. “babe, i can’t do it. i have no energy left and it’s your fault!”

you roll your eyes, reclaiming the cloth from his hand. you add a little more pressure to address his concern as you move on to lathering his tattooed arm, a coat of small bubbles decorating the diverse colors of ink covering his skin. you make a game out of neatly smoothing down his body hair.

“you know you have sensitive skin but you’re too rough when you do it. what’s the point of using a mild body wash?”

his brain fails to process your scolding, still weak and fuzzy like cotton, overcome by fragmented thoughts. the beckoning sound of your voice. the intoxicating scent of your newest perfume, strawberry clinging to your skin until now. your cleverness paired with seduction equals his blissful doom. your tenderness while you were making him cry. after making him cry. even when he’s not crying at all.

“____,”

your eyes flicker up to him in confusion. why is that you feel a little more real when he says your name?

“what?” you squeak out.

“you’re so beautiful.” he thinks out loud, ‘lovestruck’ written all over his softened features. “i wish there’s a better word for it. ehh, uhh, there probably is but…”

his forehead creases as he exerts mental power to flip through his dictionary, eyeballs pointing in different directions as if he will read the word somewhere on the walls.

“but i can’t think of one right now… my brain isn’t working.”

the compliment told dreamily makes your fragile heart beat louder inside your ribcage. concealing a flattered smile, you shake your head in disbelief.

“you think changing the topic like this will work?”

the water sloshes around as you inch closer, running the cloth over his shoulders and across his collarbones.

“i mean it.” he replies firmly, hands sneaking in to caress the sides of your waist, fingertips grazing your skin to trace amorphous drawings. “i didn’t always get the chance to look at you… like take my time and, really look at you. i hate that.”

you reach for the tallest bottle on the corner of the bathtub. as you spritz more body wash on the cloth, you give him a fleeting glance. “you’re doing it right now. that’s what matters.”

“i am.” he nods timidly.

his vision is fixated where your gentle scrubbing travels down to his chest. he sharply inhales, and exhales, choosing to pour every ounce of his attention on you. his tattooed hand slides up your body, gliding across your skin until he reaches your face. and as if he’s doubtful that you’re truly tangible and not a figment of his imagination, the back of his fingers tentatively brushes your cheek.

it rises under his touch as you sneakily steal glances of him getting lost in a trance. with droplets of water dripping from his wet hair, he blinks sleepily. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat, suppressing the new wave of salty tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

he doesn’t want to roam the roads of the past too much but — years after he broke your heart, has he become a man worthy of soaking in a bathtub with you? it’s an honor. it’s a joy. everything is clear. you’re not here to fill in a gap but to consume space. his body is permanently stained by the colors of your soul. he is loved.

considering that he still looks gorgeously wrecked from earlier, you only take it as a sign that he’s still not entirely present in this sphere. you want to give him more water, but neither of you feels the need to speak. wave to earth’s ‘evening glow’ is more than enough to fill the evening’s restful silence.

as he painfully yearns to do so, he takes his time, and you spread the body wash on the curves of his waist slower than you normally would.

his calloused thumb traces your jaw, and your breath hitches when he pauses at your bottom lip. he applies just enough pressure to memorize the softness of the flesh under his touch, slightly separating it from your upper lip. he fails to take notice of his own lips unconsciously mirroring yours. and he swears on his life, all the clocks in the world have stopped ticking to let him live in this moment forever.

on the other hand, you also fail to shut out your own impulses. your lips pucker to kiss the pad of his thumb with a smooching sound. he breaks out into a toothy grin, the long dimples running down his lower cheeks popping out.

he delicately holds your face steady in one hand, pointer finger digging in one cheek and his thumb on the other, before he draws in to grant you a proper kiss. his nose bumps against yours when it breaks.

“need to sit on your lap so i can reach your back.”

��i’m all yours.” he whispers while he guides you into position, softly squeezing at your hips.

with you straddling him, he can embrace you as he likes, his chest pressed against yours. he happily tucks his chin over the shoulder of your unbusy arm, and he’s on top of the world. he hums and sings along to johnny stimson’s ‘honeymoon’, harmoniously swaying in the limited space as you knead his back. he is undoubtedly, thoroughly drunk. the 80- to 90-proof bottles of whiskey gathered in the kitchen cabinet got nothing on you.

he sniffles quietly, using his wrist to pat his tear-stained eyes and cheeks dry. he plants a small kiss on the soft flesh under your ear before succumbing to the heaviness weighing on his eyelids.

jungkook’s adorable snoring contests with his phone’s high-quality speakers. almost, almost too identical to the sound of the candle wick burning.

“oh, for fuck’s sake.” you curse under your breath, splashing water on the expanse of your boyfriend’s back to wash away the bubbles.

“…it’s 9pm. did i seriously tire him out that much?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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shellbilee · 10 months

Text

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 1

A Glen Powell RPF series

Pairing: Glen Powell x OFC (Billie James)

Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, eventual smut

Words: 5.5K

Likes & Reblogs are always appreciated 💕

Comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

---

Billie

“Come on buddy” Billie says as she knocks on the polished wooden door, reaching up to readjust her cream fedora hat, “Ready for your sleepover?”.

She looks down at Nugget, her golden retriever, smiling as he pants happily and looks back up at her with his liquid brown eyes.

Billie looks up as the door opens in front of her, her smile growing when she sees Lachlan grinning back at her.

“Bil!” Lachlan exclaims loudly, arms outstretched in greeting, crouching down and beckoning to Nugget as soon as he sees the floppy retriever sitting beside her.

Billie laughs.

“Hi Lach!” she says, looking up as Frankie and Reggie, Lachlan’s two mini dachshunds come barreling down the hallway to greet Nugget, “Hi babies!” she adds, bending to pick up Reggie and placing a kiss on the excited, squirming puppy’s head.

She puts Reggie back down and smiles as the two sausage dogs excitedly greet Nugget, the three instantly morphing into play mode and running off into the house. Playdates and sleepovers with Frankie and Reggie were a regular occurrence for Nugget, not to mention the neighbourly greeting that the three shared every morning on Billie’s daily morning walk.

A loud whistle snaps Billie’s attention, looking up to see Ryan, Lachlan’s boyfriend, standing in the kitchen doorway looking her up and down.

“Billie you look hot!” he exclaims loudly, regarding her from head to toe, “Seriously, those legs girl!”.

Billie laughs and shakes her head, waving her arm dismissively. “Aw Ryan, you’re such a sweetheart”.

The three dogs come charging back into the hallway, almost knocking Ryan over as they run past him. Billie shakes her head as she watches her panting fur-child, smiling at how it’s taken him all of ten seconds to forget about her. She hears Lachlan close the front door as she follows Ryan into the kitchen, pausing at the over-sized art deco mirror to check her reflection.

She’d styled her long chocolate brown hair in loose curls, loving the way they tumbled down her shoulders and softly framed her face. She wore a pair of white linen tailored shorts that ended high on her thighs, and a square necked coral coloured crop that contrasted against her tanned, sun-kissed skin. On her feet were a pair of wedge heels with nude ties that wrapped around her ankles - her favourite pair of shoes because they were high and she loved the way they made her legs look, but at the same time were comfy enough for her to last the whole day in.

“So I should be home just before lunch time tomorrow, and I’ll pick Nugget up then if that’s okay still?” Billie says as she walks into the kitchen with Lachlan in tow, turning to look at both boys as she perches on the armrest of their black leather sofa, “If you guys need anything though, you have my key”.

“Nugget’s stayed here a thousand times Bil, we’ll be fine” Lachlan retorts, looking over at the three pups who were currently wrestling on the floor of the living room.

Billie chuckles. “I know, I know. You tell me everytime”.

“Now go, get out of here. You paid enough for these tickets, the last thing you need is to get there late” Ryan says, gesturing to the door with his head.

Billie whistles for Nugget and crouches to the ground to say goodbye, the dark golden dog eventually coming over to give her an affectionate face lick. She ruffles his silky ears and drops a kiss on the top of his head, walking into the kitchen and giving Lachlan and Ryan a kiss goodbye before they walk her to the front door.

“Thanks again guys, I love you”.

The boys both grin. “We love you too Bil”.

Billie unlocks her black pick up and makes her way over to it, turning to wave at them behind her.

“Have the best time babe!” Lachlan shouts out, putting his arm around Ryan and leaning into him affectionately.

Billie smiles at them both and offers a final wave, putting her gold aviator sunglasses on and getting into her car. The air is warm already, the day heating up in true LA Summer style, the interior of the car already hot despite it being only 11am. Billie switches on the engine and puts on the air con, reaching up to readjust her hat one last time before pulling out of the driveway and driving off to Bec’s house.

Rebecca was one of Billie’s best and closest friends. They’d met at a pilates class six years ago not long after Billie had first moved to LA, Bec and her instantly bonding over their love of post-pilates brunches and chilled house music. They’d gotten so close that Bec had asked Billie to be the god-mother of her second child Aubrey when she’d given birth a few years later, Billie basically becoming a piece of furniture in the Danton household since she was there so often.

Billie pulls up to Bec’s house in the hills and steps out of the car, grabbing the bottle of white rum she’d bought yesterday. A warm breeze ruffles her hair as she walks along the giant driveway, the sun heating her skin almost instantly. The door is already unlocked when she gets there, Billie walking straight into the Danton’s enormous sun-filled, hamptons style home.

Almost instantly she’s met with Aubrey’s squeal of excitement, a wide, happy smile on the two year old’s face as she runs down the expansive hallway.

“Hi Aubs!” Billie exclaims, picking up her god-daughter and spinning her around in a bear hug, “I missed you little monkey!”.

Aubrey grins, laughing in that adorable way that only toddlers can, Billie shifting Aubrey to her hip and balancing her bag and the bottle in the other arm. She walks through the expansive house towards the back deck, stopping for a moment when she sees Mason sitting on the living room floor playing playstation.

“Hey bud” Billie says, bending and dropping a loud kiss to his forehead and chuckling when he screws up his face in disgust.

“Eew Aunty Billie!” Mason yells, recoiling and wiping his forehead.

Billie only laughs, pulling a face back at him, smiling when Aubrey giggles and babbles toddler nonsense.

“Hey gorgeous!” Billie exclaims as she steps out onto the back deck overlooking the pool, Bec looking up from where she is currently making mojitos in the outdoor kitchen.

“Bil! You’re here!” she says happily, the thin straps of the aqua blue playsuit she’s wearing making her pilates toned arms look even better.

It always blew Billie’s mind how amazing Bec looked after two children - one of which was only two years old.

Billie whistles, complementing Bec’s outfit as she bends to put Aubrey and the bottle down, Aubrey scampering off towards her mother just as Sloane walks through behind Billie.

“Heya babe, about time you got here”

Sloane was Billie’s other best friend. They’d met at Camp America when Billie had finished university back home and wanted a few months off before starting full time work. They’d bonded instantly at camp being two foreigners - Billie from Australia and Sloane from London, the two becoming inseparable over the Summer. They’d kept in touch over the years, Billie eventually moving to LA to work and Sloane following suit six months later after finishing her paramedicine degree in the UK. Billie had introduced Sloane to Bec when she’d moved, and the three had been close friends ever since.

Like Bec, Sloane also looked incredible - her long ebony hair was loose and straight, hanging like a dark waterfall around her face. She was wearing a mango yellow sun dress that fit her like a glove and contrasted against her porcelain skin, a pair of tan strappy heels on her feet.

Billie and Sloane embrace in a hello before taking a seat on the comfy outdoor lounge, Bec joining a moment later to hand out her mojitos and taking the bottle of rum from Billie. Billie takes a sip and smiles, savouring the fresh taste of rum, lime and mint, relaxing into the lounge and letting out a content sigh. She's been looking forward to today for months.

The girls had bought tickets to see Rufus Du Sol in concert - an Australian music artist famous for deep house music with a chilled vibe. They were one of Billie and Bec’s favourite artists so they'd both jumped at the opportunity to see them live when the event was announced, Sloane just happy to tag along for a girls day out and not really caring who was playing. They'd soon discovered that the event itself was quite exclusive - it was being held at one of LA's premier rooftop venues with only 200 tickets available, tickets that cost more than one of Billie's mortgage repayments. Still they'd decided it was a no brainer, and with five open laptops logging on at the exact time that the ticket sales had opened, they'd managed to score three very expensive tickets.

“What time should we order the uber?” Sloane asks, looking down at her phone having just posted a pouty selfie of her and Billie to instagram.

“It starts at 2 doesn't it?” Bec asks looking down at her diamond encrusted watch, “I checked before, an uber should take about 20 minutes from here. So maybe soon?”.

Billie nods, taking another sip of her drink, just as Ben, Bec’s husband, steps out onto the deck.

“Another round ladies?” he greets with a smile, walking over to give Sloane and Billie a kiss hello before standing behind Bec and giving her shoulders a squeeze.

Billie smiles as Bec looks lovingly up at her husband, watching as he bends to kiss her softly - even after ten years of marriage they still always looked as loved up as ever, permanent adoration etched onto both of their faces whenever they looked at one another.

“Thanks honey” Bec says, Ben winking at her before taking their three glasses and walking over to the outdoor bar to make another round of mojitos.

“Got plans with the kids for the day Ben?” Sloane asks, putting her phone down and looking over at Ben.

“Nah. Maybe a bit of a play in the pool since it's going to be warm” he says as he pops ice blocks into the three glasses, “If I can manage to wrestle Mason from the playstation that is”.

All three girls laugh, Bec lifting her phone to take a group photo as they relax on the lounge together. The air is starting to get hot, the soft breeze turning warm and no longer offering a reprieve from the beating sunshine, Billie taking off her hat to fan herself.

Two more rounds of cocktails later, the girls are appropriately buzzed when Sloane announces that the uber is arriving. Ben scoops up Aubrey as the girls grab their things, each stopping to say goodbye to Ben and the kids as they make their way out of the front door. They pile into the uber, already laughing from their pre-drink mojitos, waving goodbye as the car pulls out of the driveway and drives off towards the city.

---

Glen

Glen Powell leans back on the comfy outdoor lounge, letting out a breath as he savours his tequila and soda. Condensation runs down his hand from his drink, his skin already hot despite sitting in the sun for less than five minutes. He looks around the venue, the white Mediterranean style lounges and umbrellas contrasting perfectly with the cloudless, picture blue sky. What a day it was shaping up to be.

He looks over at his friends - Drew, a long term buddy that he's known from way back when in Austin, and Jay and Greg, two of his co-stars from Top Gun. Miles and his wife Keleigh were also on their way to the gig, arriving soon with a few of their extended friends. Glen smiles to himself, taking in the chilled party atmosphere, nodding his head along to the beat of the deep lounge song that's currently playing in the background. He's been looking forward to today for weeks, keen for an afternoon of sun, friends, drinks and music.

He takes another sip of his drink and looks over at the stage where one of the supporting acts is playing - a DJ whose name he can’t remember, his eyes passing over the random groups of guests and party-goers scattered around the luxurious rooftop venue. A loud laugh catches his ear and he looks over his shoulder towards the sound, noting a group of three girls sitting on a set of lounges a few feet away. He notices one of them, a tall brunette wearing a cream fedora hat, watching her throw her head back as she laughs along with something one of her friends must have said.

“Glen! Hey bud!”

He turns back to his group to see Miles standing in front of him, an instant smile on his face as he stands to embrace his friend. He hasn’t seen Miles since an end of summer party last year, suddenly feeling nostalgic for his absent Top Gun co-stars.

“How are you man?” Miles asks when he pulls away, just as Keleigh, Mile’s wife, steps forward to say hello and kiss Glen’s cheek in greeting.

“Good bud and you? It’s been a while!”.

He’s introduced to a few of their friends - three of Keleigh’s girlfriends and one of their husbands, and soon everyone is perched around the booth and lounges talking, laughing and dancing.

“Drinks guys? What does everyone want?” Glen says as he stands up from his seat, trying his best to remember the numerous orders being shouted before giving up and pulling out his phone to use his notes.

He nods and makes his way towards the bar, typing in Aperol Spritz just as someone steps out in front of him and he’s forced to stop abruptly before he collides with them.

“Oh sorry!” a female voice says, Glen looking up in time to a girl smiling back at him, her hands held up in apology as she balances against the lounge she’d been previously sitting on.

“All good darlin’” Glen says reflexively, returning her smile and gesturing for her to pass in front of him, “After you”.

Her smile grows wider and it takes Glen half a second to realise that it’s the girl he’d looked over at before - the brunette with the fedora hat, and another half second to process that she’s absolutely fucking stunning. He’s momentarily taken aback by her smile - pouty lips stretched wide and showing perfect white teeth, barely hearing her thank you as he watches her pass in front of him and make her way to the bar.

He can’t help but look her over as she walks, his gaze trailing over toned, muscled legs and what can only be a round, curvy ass hidden underneath her white shorts. Long chocolate brown waves cascade down her shoulders beneath her hat, her hair swishing just enough to reveal a large tattoo of what looks to be a collection of patterned flowers in the centre of her upper back. Glen barely registers that he’s been blatantly checking her out until he reaches the queues at the bar, stepping to the line on the left so that they’re standing side by side.

He looks down at his phone again going over his group’s drink orders, movement in his peripheral vision making him look back up to see the girl taking off her hat and fanning herself with it. The air is hot now, the afternoon sun relentless as it beats down, Glen thankful he’d chosen a light linen shirt to wear as he feels the beginnings of sweat form at the back of his neck.

The line moves and Glen steps forward, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses as the girl moves up beside him, still fanning herself with her hat. The strong scent of something sweet and vaguely coconut-y suddenly hits him, Glen glancing down at her and realising it’s her perfume. He watches from the side as she reaches up to put her hat back on, unable to help his smile as he sees her start to sway to the beat of the song that’s currently playing.

The line moves again and suddenly it’s their turn, Glen stepping towards the bar as the bartender calls ‘next’ and glances at the two of them. The girl points to him and he shakes his head no, putting his elbows on the bar and gesturing back to her.

“Ladies first”

She smiles at him again and Glen forgets how to form words for a moment, instead only nodding when she says thank you and listening as she orders three mojitos. He hears an accent that he can’t quite place, too caught up in the sight of her to really think it through, eyes running over her smooth, tanned skin and the tease of just-visible cleavage beneath her square necked crop top.

Three mojitos appear on the bar a moment later, fresh mint leaves tangled with ice in the clear bubbly liquid, Glen watching as the girl groups the cups and picks them up with both hands. She turns to him beside her, smiling back at him from behind her gold aviator sunglasses in a way that makes him forget his own name for a second, ice clinking against the plastic cups.

Glen sucks in a silent breath, feeling his chest expand as he looks at her properly. Jesus.

“Thanks. Again” the girl says, nodding her head as she smiles softly, Glen doing the same and steeling himself so he doesn’t stammer his words.

“You’re welcome darlin’”

Her grin grows wider and soon she’s walking away from the bar, Glen unable to stop himself from checking her out as she walks and thinking for the fifth time in five minutes how fucking gorgeous she is. He notices two guys at the back of the line watching her also, unable to blame them for staring - not when she had an ass and legs that looked like that.

Glen hears the bartender call to him, turning back around and pulling up the list on his phone to order. Minutes later his drinks are ready, picking up the tray laden with plastic cups and doing his best to stop them from spilling as he makes his way back over to his group. Across the way he sees the girl from before now sitting on a lounge and laughing with her two girlfriends, tipping his head when he sees her look over at him. Drink in hand, she offers a small, innocent smile in response, Glen sucking in a heavy breath and wondering if she has any fucking idea of the effect she is having on him. He tears his eyes away and walks back over to his friends, a small part of his brain completely preoccupied with thoughts of the gorgeous girl sitting only a few feet away from him.

---

Billie

“I swear I've seen that guy before” Sloane says, sipping her mojito and bopping away to the beat of the music in her seat, “I can’t work out where though”.

Bec frowns and looks over at the group where the hot guy had gone to, shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe you rescued him once?”

Sloane shakes her head no.

“Either way, he was super cute and Bil you should go talk to him”.

Billie laughs and flicks a stray hair from her face, “I'm here to drink and dance with you two, not find a man”.

Sloane and Bec both scoff.

“Oh Bil shut up, when has that ever stopped you before? Men are like flies to honey around you” Sloane remarks, looking over at Bec for support and raises her hand in thanks when she nods fervently in agreement.

Billie only rolls her eyes and laughs at her two friends, taking another long sip of drink and savouring the cold liquid. She reaches up to readjust her hat, feeling her face become glowy from sweat. Her whole body feels warm, the sun beating down on her skin, the dry breeze only making it hotter on the rooftop area.

The music is starting to pick up, the bass getting heavier in the air, and Billie isn't sure if it's the alcohol, the fact that she's out with friends or just a combination of being out in the sun with her girlfriends at a gig that has her flustered and dancing in her seat. She takes out her phone and snaps a quick selfie with the girls, uploading the picture to instagram just as it’s announced that the main act is about to come on stage. A collective cheer is heard throughout the venue, Billie grinning and taking a long drink before gesturing to her friends towards the dance area.

“Come on ladies, time for a dance!” she announces standing up and teetering on her heels, pulling on Sloane’s arm and dragging her two friends out of their seats.

They make their way to the centre of the rooftop where the stage is positioned, finding a space among the growing crowd of party goers. There’s an eclectic mix of guests around them, everyone seemingly swaying to the beat with a drink or two in hand, the crowd starting to dance and cheer as the opening song is played. Bec lets out a whoop and soon the three girls are laughing and singing in their own little world, Billie swinging her hips and throwing her arms in the air.

The sun is shining down with a vengeance now, the afternoon heat dry and the air almost thick, the growing crowd of people doing nothing to offer any kind of relief from the warmth. If Billie wasn’t several drinks down she’d have been a little more concerned about the possibility of being sun burnt and ensuring she stays hydrated, but her mojito-tinged brain has other ideas. Sloane throws her arms in the air, Bec dropping her head back and singing as loud as she can, Billie grinning at her two friends as she sways and jumps to the heavy, pulsing beat. She can’t remember the last time she’d felt so free and had this much fun, closing her eyes and savouring every moment of the present around her.

Three songs later, Billie announces that it’s time for another round, shouting as much in Bec’s ear over the heavy pulse of the music. Bec tells her that they’ll stay where they are, Billie taking off her hat and fanning her heated face as she makes her way towards the bar. It’s not until she arrives at the small queue that she notices the guy from before ahead of her, unable to help herself from looking him over as she fans herself.

He has medium length sandy brown hair that is pushed back in a messy slick look, a bone coloured linen shirt draped over what is undoubtedly a very muscled set of shoulders. His forearms are thick and muscled, a tan and gold expensive looking watch sitting snugly on his left wrist. She’s standing close enough that she can smell his cologne - something spicy and earthy with a hint of delicious warmth, letting out a breath and reaching up to run her fingers through her long hair.

As if he’s aware that there’s someone behind him, Billie watches as the guy suddenly looks over his shoulder - perhaps over to where his friends are, his gaze instead catching sight of her in a double take. In an instant she’s met with a gorgeous, effortlessly handsome grin that makes her breath catch in her throat, her cheeks instantly heating in a way that she knows has nothing to do with the afternoon heat.

Fuck.

“Another round?” he asks her, a Texan lilt to his voice that makes Billie swoon internally, a toothpick resting between his lips.

“Gotta deal with this heat somehow” Billie replies with a smile, holding up one hand in a shrug and still fanning her hat with the other.

The line moves forward and they both step forward, Billie moving to stand in the empty space beside the handsome stranger. The music is still pumping, the deep bass heavy in the air, Billie teetering on her heels and dancing on the spot. The girl behind the bar calls next and the hot guy gestures to Billie, but she shakes her head no and offers for him to move instead.

“No no, you were definitely here first” Billie counters, watching as he shakes his head defiantly.

“Ladies first remember?”

Billie laughs now, shaking her head as she smiles, knowing that she isn't going to win this battle even if she tries.

Begrudgingly she steps forward and orders, this time asking for four drinks instead of three. A mojito each for her and the girls, and a tequila and soda for her mystery gentleman. She puts her hat back on and rests her elbows on the bartop, feeling his eyes on her beside her as she bounces on the spot to the music.

“So are all boys from Texas this polite, or is it just you?” Billie asks suddenly, turning to look at him over her shoulder and tilting her head.

Now that she’s looking at him front on, she can’t help but check him out behind her sunglasses. Her eyes follow the neckline of his linen shirt - unbuttoned enough to show off the planes of his sun-kissed, muscled chest, but high enough to hide what Billie knows has to be a toned, defined torso. His jawline is strong and chiselled, covered with a short layer of few-day-old, golden brown stubble, a patch of sandy brown chest hair just visible at the base of his neck.

When he chuckles and smiles back at her - the toothpick resting between his perfect white teeth, Billie momentarily loses her train of thought.

“As much as I'd like to defend us all, I have to give my mama credit for that one”

Billie laughs, turning briefly to the bartender when one of her drinks is up, picking up the plastic cup and handing it to the guy.

He looks back at her questioningly, taking the drink from her when she nods, taking the toothpick from his lips and lifting the cup to take a sip. A look of surprise appears on his face as he swallows, his eyebrows raising in a mixture of amusement and confusion. In that moment Billie can't help her confident smile, knowing she's picked the right drink without him even saying anything.

“Tequila and soda? What makes you think this is my drink?”

Billie shrugs nonchalantly, her lips still parted in a smile, looking back at him from behind her sunglasses.

“Well, with a chest like that there’s no way you’re drinking beers” Billie reasons in a flirtatious voice, nodding at his muscled chest and feeling her smile grow when his eyebrows rise again, “Even though you’d probably love to be drinking a beer right now. True?”

He lets out a laugh though doesn’t say anything, regarding her with an impressed smile and tapping his fingers against the plastic cup.

“Besides” she says, turning back to the bar briefly and saying her thanks when the three mojitos are up, “Your Texan accent is hard to miss and tequila is basically the state drink isn’t it?”.

He laughs then, loud and throaty and in an instant Billie decides it’s the best sound she’s heard all day, gathering her three drinks and turning back to face him.

“Thanks for this” he says to her with another grin that threatens to make her knees weak, holding up his cup as if to cheers to her before taking another drink.

Billie flashes her best smile in return, pausing in front of him before she heads back to the girls.

“Might see you later for another round”.

The mystery man grins again - another effortlessly charming, utterly handsome smile that makes her want to melt into a puddle on the floor, tipping his head to her.

“You can count on it”.

She tears herself away before she can internally swoon over him any longer, forcing herself not to look back at him even though she knows he’s definitely watching her. It takes her a second to realise that she’s intentionally swinging her hips in a way that has nothing to do with the music, unconsciously giving the guy her best view from behind as she walks away from him at the bar.

A hot breeze blows by and Billie has to blow a stray hair from her face, pausing at the edge of the scattered lounges at the side of the stage to locate the girls. She sees Bec and Sloane dancing away a little further into the crowd, Sloane’s mango yellow dress like a bright beacon among the sea of moving bodies.

“And what pray tell, are you smiling at?” Bec asks as Billie returns to the group, bopping away to the beat of the song that’s pulsing in the air.

Billie grins sheepishly, handing off the drinks to each of the girls before taking a long, much needed sip herself. To say she felt hot was an understatement, a thin sheen of sweat threatening to form on her forehead beneath the multiple layers of setting powder she’d applied this morning.

“That guy from before, he was with me in the line again” Billie explains after she swallows, crunching down on an ice cube, “He’s really fucking cute”.

“Oh I could not agree more” Sloane remarks, turning to look over at the bar and letting out a low whistling sound.

Billie looks over at her friend and follows her eye line, finding her mystery guy walking back to his group with his drinks in hand, seemingly oblivious to his new private audience. Billie sucks in a breath as she watches him, suddenly desperate for another sip of her drink.

Fuck.

Cute, was not nearly a good enough word to describe him.

Billie takes a long drink and turns back to the stage, throwing her hands into the air and dancing along to the beat. She feels free and happy, without a care in the world, deciding that today was quickly shaping up to be one of the best days she’s had in the longest time. The low, chilled beat of the music feels like it’s echoing across the rooftop, the crowd singing along in unison in the best way that only ever happened at concerts. The afternoon sun is starting to lower now, the sunshine still hot and the air still more than warm, the faintest of breezes only just detectable across the writhing crowd.

A shriek from Sloane suddenly jolts Billie from her daydreaming dance trance, Billie and Bec both turning to face their friend, alarm on both their faces.

“Slo what the fuck?” Billie shouts over the noise, simultaneously frowning and laughing at her friend.

“That’s Miles Teller over there” she explains with wide eyes, gesturing with her head so as not to attract too much attention, Billie and Bec both glancing over in the direction. “Pretty sure that’s his wife too. Katie? Keleigh? Something like that?”.

Billie’s own eyes widen when she realises Sloane is right - it’s him alright, minus the Goose moustache he’d all but made famous again last year. They’d all simultaneously swooned over Miles Teller when the Top Gun movie had come out in cinemas, as did seemingly every other female in the world.

“I mean with how much we paid for these tickets, there was bound to be celebrities here” Billie yells over the music, turning back to face the stage and taking another long sip of her drink.

Billie can’t help but smile. She remembered the way she’d nearly freaked out the first time she’d seen a celebrity not long after moving to LA. She’d been out for brunch after a particularly brutal pilates session, grabbing a bite because she was sure she was going to pass out from lack of energy and not make it back home, when she’d looked up from her omelete and seen Chris Pine getting a coffee only a few feet from her. It had taken everything she had not to make an audible sound of surprise, doing her best not to openly stare at the guy she’d only ever seen on a screen before.

“Wait, Bil!”

Billie turns back around when she feels Sloane’s grip on her arm, her friend suddenly shaking her violently and making even Bec stop dancing.

“That guy? Your hot guy that I said looks so familiar?” she adds, eyes once again wide as she looks at Billie and Bec and back again.

Bec is frowning now, unsure what the hell is going on, looking from Billie and Sloane over to where the guy is standing with his group of friends.

“What are you talking about Sloane?”

Billie shakes her head still confused, Sloane’s entire expression transforming as her lips part in a wide, incredulous smile.

“The reason he looks so familiar, is because he’s the other hot guy from Top Gun. Glen Powell!”.

Next Chapter

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crayonboxcolors607 · 9 months

Text

in honor of Part 1 getting 100 likes and like 15 reblogs! (a lot for tiny stupid me lol) i decided to suck it up and write another part bc ppl have asked for it

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART ONE, PLEASE DO SO!

After Robin found out, things were a bit better for Steve. The two of them practiced their signs during slow shifts at the Family Video. Robin showed him a new sign every day and helped him improve his lip reading. It benefited his daily life too. Gone were the days when he had to walk all the way across the store to talk to Robin, now the two of them could have conversations from opposite sides of the store, their hands flying fast as they spoke.

Robin was a fucking godsend, bullying Keith into giving Steve more time off in case of migraines and providing excuses when he couldn't drive the kids around. She begged Steve to wear his hearing aids, eventually telling him that if he played his cards right he could cover them up with his hair, which ultimately convinced him. She'd helped him find a new hairstyle that almost eliminated them completely, clapping her hands excitedly as the shock on his face was evident when he turned them on and could differentiate sounds again.

Of course, there were still things that were hard, even with the hearing aids. Steve needed to be directly facing someone in order to have a basic understanding of what they were saying, and there couldn't be anything obstructing their mouth. This proved especially difficult when Steve interacted with the younger Party members, although they continued to chalk it up to Steve's usual airheadedness. For once, he was grateful to be stereotyped as a dumb jock.

One random day in October, however, things began to change.

Dustin had somehow roped Steve into driving him, Mike, and Lucas to some fancy-ass comic store in Indianapolis, claiming that "the one in Hawkins is not nearly comprehensive enough, Steve". He'd rolled his eyes and responded with what they referred to as his "Mom Pose", his hands on his hips and his eyebrow cocked as he stared at them judgementally. Eventually, though, he'd relented, letting them fight over who got shotgun and who had to sit in the back.

Somehow, although he himself didn't quite seem to know how, Lucas managed to snag the front seat. He'd slid in quietly as Dustin and Mike threw themselves into the backseat, yelling obnoxiously about unfairness and favoritism. Steve refrained from pointing out that he'd had no part in the tussle for shotgun, instead allowing it to play out.

He and Lucas had been engaging in conversation about sports when Lucas had quietly mentioned that he was thinking of trying out for the school's basketball team, tentatively asking Steve if they could meet up the next weekend so he could give him some pointers. Steve had agreed without even thinking, but he began to panic once he got home later that afternoon. How was he supposed to go over skills in basketball when he couldn't even hear out of his left ear?

But in typical Steve fashion, he procrastinated until the last minute, eventually deciding that he simply wouldn't wear the hearing aids. He'd be fine for one basketball practice, right?

And so, Steve drove to the basketball courts that Saturday, removing his hearing aids as he arrived, and thus reintroducing a fuzzy ringing in his ears that he hadn't experienced in a long time. It felt alien, but he shook his head around a bit and started to shoot baskets. He'd forgotten how good sports made him feel, and was pleasantly surprised at the adrenaline that began pumping through his veins. In fact, his new lack of hearing made it easier for him to practice, as it allowed him to tune out the rest of the world and focus solely on himself and his own fluid motions.

This did prove to be a slight problem, however, as he didn't hear Lucas dropping his stuff on the bench, nor did he notice him walking up to Steve. So the tapping on his shoulder startled him far more than it should have.

"Jesus Sinclair!" Steve exclaimed. "You scared the shit outta me, man!" Lucas seemed confused at Steve's reaction, and he silently reminded himself that none of the kids knew about his hearing.

"Uhh, sorry Steve," Lucas said slowly. "Are um, are you okay?" The concern on his face melted Steve's heart just a little bit.

"I'm fine buddy," he reassured the young teen. "Was just in my own world a bit, you know, focusing and stuff." His explanation seemed to comfort Lucas enough, and he grinned.

"You ready to get started?" he asked, tossing the younger boy the ball. Lucas caught it with a practiced ease and began dribbling, feinting left and right. Steve dropped down into his defensive position, mirroring Lucas's every movement, tracking his feet to predict which direction he would go next.

He felt himself slipping back into that headspace that he loved so much, the one that drew him into sports in the first place. Because he didn’t need to think about it, the strategies were always in his brain. He just needed to rely on muscle memory, all his former skills coming back to him as he and Lucas scrimmaged.

They played for about thirty minutes before taking a quick break to grab water and snacks, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Lucas opened his Gatorade™ and said something Steve, causing him to look over in surprise as he struggled to figure out what the younger boy was saying.

"Pardon?" he said, pretending he just hadn't been paying attention. Lucas repeated himself, or at least Steve had to assume that he did, because again, he couldn't understand a single word that left the younger boy's mouth.

There was a heavy feeling in his stomach as he debated asking Lucas to repeat himself a third time.

Someone tapped his leg, pulling him out of his own spiraling headspace. Steve looked up, feeling even worse as he registered the fear on Lucas' face.

"Steve," Lucas began slowly, seeming struggling with what to say next. "Can you, uh, can you not hear me?"

Of course, that sentence Steve was able to comprehend.

With a heavy sigh, he shook his head.

"Not really," he replied, looking anywhere but at Lucas. "My hearing started to go after Billy smashed my head with a plate. And it got worse after Starcourt." He looked up then, a grim smile on his face. "Turns out multiple concussions aren't exactly good for a person."

Lucas' eyes widened at the confession. "So, are you deaf?" he asked. Or at least, Steve assumed that's what he said.

"Partially," Steve replied. "I can't hear at all out of my left ear, that's where I got the most damage. My right ear can function, but not normally. I mostly rely on reading lips and context clues."

"Oh my god," Lucas said slowly, the gears visibly turning in his head. "Oh my god! W-we kept teasing you! We kept calling you stupid a-and laughing at you! You couldn't even hear us! And you-" The boy suddenly slumped over and placed his head in his hands. He said something, Steve was sure of it, but it was additionally muffled by him covering his face.

"Uh, Lucas, buddy," Steve said hesitantly. "I can't understand you if I can't see your face." Lucas looked up at him then, tears pooling in his eyes.

"It's my fault," he said. Steve felt his mouth drop open in shock, and began to protest, but Lucas stopped him.

"Billy was coming after me," he insisted, talking clearer so Steve could understand. "He was attacking me! You stepped in and tried to defend me -- now you're deaf and it's all my fault!"

Steve felt his heart drop.

He'd been so scared to tell anyone because he was worried they wouldn't view him the same way as before, that he hadn't even considered how the kids might feel if they knew he was like this because of his attempts to protect them.

"Oh Lucas," Steve said softly, gathering the crying teen into his arms. "It's not your fault. There isn't a world where I wouldn't have done the same. You're my kid. I'm always gonna protect you. That's just how it works." He felt Lucas try to push away, to protest, but he just held him tighter. "You and your little gaggle of idiots are worth everything. I'd go deaf a thousand times if it meant keeping you all safe."

With a sniffle, Lucas detached himself from the older boy.

"Really?" he said, eyes shiny with tears.

"Of course," Steve responded, without missing a beat. He gave the younger boy a final squeeze, before wiping away the few tears that had escaped while he and Lucas were talking. "I'd better get you home anyway. Your mom will have my head on a stick if you miss dinner." He kept his hand on Lucas' back as he wiped his tears and sniffed a final time.

"Okay," he said. "But you're staying for dinner."

HOLY SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED! ONLY TOOK ME 9 MONTHS LOL

okay okay so i did talk about the older members of the party finding out next as well as dustin but i just had to make a liar out of myself bc when i started writing this my brain was just like "but what if we did a wholesome reveal with Lucas instead??" and now here we are and i regret nothing

except the lack of sleep. i regret that a lot.

also, i am not an athlete. i am a depressed and introverted high school theater kid who has never played basketball in my entire life bc i am a measly 5ft 1in (roughly 155cm). so dont come at me if the sportsball lingo is incorrect bc i have no fucking clue what im doing.

also THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND ALL THE LIKES AND REBLOGS ON MY LAST POST!!

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #the battle of starcourt #post starcourt #deaf steve harrington #hoh steve harrington #hard of hearing steve harrington #fluff #wholesome #heartwarming #i cried writing this #i hope you cry reading this #jk #not really tho

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peachesandcreames · 11 months

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What Are We? Part 3

A/N: Any and All Military Mistakes Are My Own. I'd love to thank @mrsevans90 for helping me get the ball rolling on this installment. It would not be possible without their input and feedback!

Trigger Warnings: A Vague Disclaimer is Nobody's Friend. You and you alone are responsible for your reading material. Jake Seresin is a complete menace. I tried to tag as many as possible but it wouldn't let me tag everyone and for that I apologize. Angst in the form of parental death/drunk driving. Illusion to Goose's untimely passing. Airplane accidents. A little bit of smut because this is Jake we're talking about. I think that covers it. If I missed anything please feel free to let me know! Hearts, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤ Happy Reading 📚

The next morning came bright and early with Jake's alarm clock waking him. He groaned and rolled over to stop the offending noise. He slammed his hand down until he made contact and all noise ceased. Lying on his back he roughly ran his hand over his face trying to wake up, he looked out his window and the sun was barely peaking over the horizon. Today was going to be a very long day of running drills and flight plans.

Jake wished that it was you waking him up with your warm, soft lips and hands instead of his shrill alarm clock. He grabbed his phone that was sitting on his bedside table and saw that he had a missed text from you. Just seeing your name first thing in the morning brought a smile to his face. Y/N: Good Morning, Handsome. You're probably still sleeping. Call me or text me when you see this. If I don't hear from you I hope that you have a wonderful day!! xoxo Y/N

Jake tossed his phone onto his slept in bed and made his way to the head to drain the snake. His dog tags rattling around his neck and his grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. He quickly took care of business and washed his hands. He was desperate to hear your voice hoping that it would make his day go by quicker. Checking the time he saw that it was only a little bit past 6 in the morning.

He wasn't sure why you were awake so early but you hadn't texted him that long ago, he dialed your number and listened to it ringing on the other end. You picked up on the 3rd ring and answered, "Hello?" "Good morning sunshine. What are you doing awake this early?" You could hear the humor in his voice, Jake knew that you weren't a morning person at all. "Oh, ya know just thought that I would be up before the sun. You do this every day? On purpose?"

Jake let out a chuckle "hazard of the job, Sweetheart. So what are you doing up this early?" You groaned that Nat had talked you into joining her on her daily juice and jog as she called it. Phoenix always starts her day with a juice cleanse and a jog and she roped you into it. You were changing into a pair of leggings and matching Tshirt plus some sensible shoes. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and resumed your conversation.

"Oh you know, trying to fit in some sister quality time before she goes to work." You took a good long hard look in the mirror and decided that you looked fine for an early morning run. You were pretty sure that muggers wouldn't care what you looked like. "Can I ask you for a favor?" "Anytime. What you got for me?" You felt awkward asking and you figured that Jake could sense that.

"You don't have to be shy around me, remember I know what you sound like when you cum. " You could pretend to be scandalized but he was in the right. "Could I drop you my location? I'd just feel better knowing that you know where I am incase anything happens. Logically, I know that nothing will but I've definitely seen one to many true crime shows and horror movies that start with this exact scenario: Hot young women go jogging and boom they either find a dead body or end up as said dead body. "You were aware that you were rambling but couldn't stop yourself.

Jake thought it was adorable but he didn't want to diminish your anxiety and he thought it was cute that you were still shy around him after everything. "Of course you can. Do you know where Phoenix is taking you?" You pulled your phone away from your ear and googled the directions. "Mission Beach Park," you let Jake know as you scrolled through the pictures. It looked really pretty and not secluded but it was still dark outside and you'd rather be safe than sorry.

You dropped your location to Jake's cell phone and he heard the ding a few seconds later. You felt a little bit of relief that someone else knew where you would be. Now that you got that out of the way, it was time to move on to why you really texted him so early in the morning. You weren't sure how to broach the subject so you just dove right in. "So, next week Nat and I are hosting a little get together at the house. It was actually Amelia's idea and Penny's too. Everyone's invited. "

You kind of let the silence fill the void, the implication being that you were looking forward to seeing him again in a more personal setting. Jake decided to put you out of your misery, "wild horses couldn't keep me away from seeing you again. " You released the breath that you weren't aware that you were holding. "Good." Jake could practically feel your smile through the phone.

Phoenix yelled up the stairs that she was going to get ready and your freshly squeezed juice was sitting on the kitchen counter. You gave him all of the information for next week's gathering and you were hesitant to end the call. "I gotta run, literally. " You let out a snort and Jake thought you were adorable and had no problems letting you know that. "You're so goddamn adorable it hurts me. "

"Oh no, we wouldn't want you to be in any pain. You might have to come over and let me kiss it and make it better. " A sly smile on your face had Jake groaning into the phone. "Don't be a tease Y/N, you know that I'll drop everything and be there so fast your head will spin. " You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror and went downstairs to the kitchen.

You saw your juice where she said that it would be and you could hear the shower running as you took a sip of the green juice. It was surprisingly good and you finished about half. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Seresin." That brought a smile to his face as he was changing into a pair of athletic shorts and tshirt, you could hear his dog tags rattling as he slid them under his shirt. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Jake tried to keep his tone light when he told you that he was joining Coyote on his run followed by breakfast in the main dining hall followed by a few flight test runs and then being debriefed. "Just a typical day, sunshine. I should be done around 6. I'd love to take you out for dinner and drinks, pick you up and take you out on a proper date. You put on your best dress and get all dolled up for me. How's that sound?"

"I know what you're trying to do here, you're trying to distract me from you training for life and death missions, Lieutenant. " That got a laugh out of Jake. "Tell me that it's working?" You begrudgingly acknowledged that yes the idea of being wined and dined by him was definitely working on you. "Good. " You heard a banging on his door and you caught bits and pieces of his conversation with Javy. "Tell Javy that I say hi and you guys have a safe flight training."

Jake could hear the worry in your voice and he hated it. "I'll see you at 7 sharp, Princess." You tried to take the fear out of your voice so that he wouldn't worry about you being worried about him. "I'm counting down the seconds" you whispered into the phone as Nat made her way further into the kitchen to put on her running shoes. You both quietly hung up and you turned to face her.

"You ready?" You nodded and grabbed your light athletic jacket and you made sure that you had your gps on and your pepper spray. You and Nat stepped out onto your front porch and she locked the door behind you. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Phoenix asked you as she did some pre run stretches and you followed suit. You looked at her warily and let her know that Jake was picking you up at 7 tonight for a date. "Oohhh, the plot thickens, " she smirked at you.

"That's not until later tonight. I think that I'll look for a job or maybe I'll go back to school. I'm not sure yet what I want to do." Phoenix nodded and linked your arms together as you started to walk together towards the beach. "I'm really happy that you're planning a future here, I honestly wasn't sure if asking you to move here and uproot your entire existence was the right thing to do but I'm willing to help you figure everything out. "

"I appreciate you offering and for everything else that you have done for me. I should plan at least one trip back home to get the rest of my stuff out of storage and finalize the sale of the house." Phoenix lightly punched you on your shoulder and you looked over at her. "You know that you don't have to do everything on your own, right? I mean I'm all for being a strong independent woman but sometimes the adult thing to do is ask for help. Let me help you."

Your sister's words brought tears to your eyes and you were too choked up to speak so you just nodded yes and hugged her. "I love you, Y/N. You're my family and the squad already considers you one of us. There's no escaping it now." That made you laugh through your tears "only a crazy lady wouldn't want to be surrounded by hot U.S. Navy men and live near the ocean. "

That elicited a groan and an eyeroll from your sister who playfully kicked you in the butt. "I should have known that would have been the deal breaker for you. " You put your hands on your hips and started jogging down the path. "Catch me if you can," you called over your shoulder and kept up a steady pace. You two jogged in comfortable silence for a few miles and made it home just as the sun was rising.

Phoenix made sure that you got home safely and got her stuff ready for work and soon the house was quiet again. You made yourself a light breakfast of egg whites and avocado toast and took a quick shower. You threw your dirty clothes into the washer and changed into a pair of shorts and tank top. You found your laptop and fired it up, you were quickly burning through what little savings you had and you desperately needed a source of income. You refused to sponge off of your sister as you browsed the help wanted section.

In your previous life back home you were going to school for nursing and working part time when your world was turned upside down. You didn't want to go back to school so work it was, you emailed a few different places with your resume and hoped that someone would reach out to you soon. You cleaned up the kitchen and switched your laundry and decided that you would need something pretty to wear on your night out with Jake. You looked at the clock and saw that it was only a little bit past noon and you figured that it was as good as a time as any to text him and ask him where he was taking you so you could decide on an outfit. Standing in the middle of your room you shot him a quick text.

JAKE'S POV:

Jake was standing in line for lunch when his phone vibrated in his shorts pocket. His morning and afternoon consisted of a 5 mile run with Rooster, Bob, Payback, Coyote and Fanboy. A few laps around the track to cool down and then they hit the showers just in time for lunch in the mess hall. His blonde hair was still damp from the shower and he was starved. After lunch they'd be practicing evasive flight maneuvers.

He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out and saw that it was you asking for hints about how fancy should you dress up. He planned on taking you to the best steakhouse restaurant in San Diego. He fired off a quick text letting you know that he thought you would look stunning in a burlap sack. Two seconds later he got your response : not at all helpful, Seresin. Coyote was standing behind him and trying to look over Jake's shoulder to see who he was texting.

You had it narrowed down to a few different options and decided to send Jake some pictures and let him decide on which outfit was your best look. Unaware that Javy was still looking over Jake's shoulder he opened the picture messages and Coyote let out a wolf whistle. "Yo, who's the hottie sending you sexy pictures?!" Jake quickly put his phone back into his pocket but it was too late, the damage was done. All of the guys swarmed Jake trying to figure out who you were. Rooster and Phoenix walked in and saw the guys huddled around Jake.

"What's going on?" Phoenix asked and they all turned to look at her. Javy was the first to spill the beans, "Hangman has a hottie sending him sexy pictures and he won't share." If looks could kill there would be five mortally wounded men in the mess hall. Rooster glanced over at Phoenix and elbowed her in the side, "ain't that your sister, Y/N?" Phoenix slowly nodded her head and as she was walking towards them they at least had the common decency to scatter. "Before you attempt to rip me a new asshole she's not sending me nudes, she's asking for my opinion on outfits for our date tonight. "

That seemed to appease Phoenix as Jake showed her the pictures that you just sent him. "Tell her to go with the LBD and the black stilettos. " Jake quickly replied that he wanted to see you in that little black dress and sexy heels. With that decided the squad sat down and dug into their food. "What's on the agenda for after lunch?" Coyote asked Rooster. "We're going up in groups of four and practicing different counter strikes, basically the last two pilots flying are the winners. "

Hangman and Coyote fist bumped each other "Y'all might as well forfeit because you're looking at the winners right now. " That got a collective groan from the dagger squad as they made their way to their respective quarters to change into their flight suits. As they strode out onto the tarmac and waited for Maverick and the rest of the instructors to arrive Jake sent you one more text that he couldn't wait to see you tonight. Your reply was pretty much instantaneous: the feeling is completely mutual. See you soon 😉. The first four pilots got into their fighter jets and taxied down the runway.

Jake, Coyote, Phoenix and Bob were next. Everything was going according to plan, Hangman was in his element in the sky until he made a move to counteract Phoenix's attack and the sun was in his eyes and he didn't see the incoming flock of birds getting sucked into his plane's engine and everything started going haywire and he couldn't get it back under control. The next thing he knew was going into a spin and all of the fighter jets alarms started going off. "Pull up!" Coyote shouted at Jake as he struggled to bring it back under control. "I can't! All systems are in failure!! Eject!! Eject!! Eject!!"

Y/N POV

It was getting closer to 7 pm and Jake should be here any second now. You curled your hair and pulled it into a loose pony tail, you sprayed enough hair spray to put another hole in the ozone layer and once you were satisfied that not even a hurricane could move your hair you moved to put the finishing touches on your makeup. You went with a classic cat eye and fire engine red lipstick, you were spraying some perfume and getting your black clutch that matched your outfit and you heard the doorbell. You smiled as you grabbed a black leather jacket and made your way downstairs and opened the door expecting to see Jake but it was Maverick and Hondo instead. Your smile faltered and you felt your stomach sink.

"Hey Pete, Hondo. Is everything okay? Is Jake running late and he sent you to keep me preoccupied until he gets here?" Pete couldn't look at you and Hondo had his head down. Pete shook his head and cleared his throat, "I'm really sorry Y/N, earlier today we were flying flight maneuvers and patterns and there was an incident involving Hangman and Coyote. They lost contact with the control tower and ejected somewhere over the desert. Their GPS gave their last known location but it's not exact coordinates. Search and Rescue are out looking right now. "

You couldn't hear Pete but his lips were moving and Hondo looked to be on the verge of crying. You couldn't breathe, your chest felt tight and it hurt to inhale. Pete made a move to step inside your house and it all went silent. You must have dropped the stuff that you were holding but you didn't realize it. You tried to shove past them but they gently stopped you.

"No, I...we...he....had plans...." you weren't sure when you started crying but you were on the verge of hysterics and everything was happening at lightning speed while you felt like you were sinking in quicksand. Their words running through your head: Jake...Coyote....accident...desert....search and rescue. You couldn't focus, you couldn't breathe. You just knew that you couldn't sit here and wait for word if they were alive or dead. You must have made it to your room to change into jeans and a sweater.

It gets cold at night in the desert and you couldn't help but think are they hurt? Are they cold? Are they injured? Are they... no. Not possible. You wouldn't allow yourself to entertain the thought. You were frantically looking for a flashlight that you had somewhere and you found it under a pile of clothes, you saw Jake's brown bomber jacket and you grabbed that too. You ran down the stairs and grabbed your car keys sitting in the dish by the door.

Pete was chasing after you but you were quicker than him and Hondo. You got in your car and drove as fast as you could towards the base. "Shit, Hondo we have to get there before Y/N. She doesn't have the credentials to get on base and she's not thinking clearly. Text Phoenix and let her know that Y/N is headed that way. "

Hondo nodded and let Phoenix know that you knew what happened and were driving like a bat out of hell. The ride to the base was quiet and somber, Phoenix let them know that she was waiting for you at the gate. "Do you think that they're ok?" Pete took his eyes off the road for a split second and shook his head. "I honestly don't know, I really hope that they are. Y/N and Phoenix lost their parents not too long ago in a drunk driving accident. I don't think that Y/N would be able to recover losing someone who she cares about so soon after...."

You somehow made it to the base in record time without being pulled over for speeding. You barely put the car in park and jumped out leaving the keys in the ignition and the drivers side wide open. Pete and Hondo pulled in after you, "Y/N! Wait!" Their pleas fell on deaf ears and you barely recognized your sister standing at the entrance. "Natasha!! You were flying with him and Javy!! What happened?!" Pete parked your car in the visitors area and pocketed your keys and followed you onto the base and into a waiting vehicle designated to take you to the search and rescue site. "I'll fill you in on the way but you have to promise me that you'll stay out of the way and let the professionals do their job, promise me?"

You couldn't speak so you weakly nodded yes. Nat filled you in without going into to much detail. You felt stupid and weak for crying in front of your sister and her superiors but you didn't care. You couldn't lose Jake so soon after losing your parents. You made it to command central, military personnel and ATVs were scouring the desert.

Nat led you to the makeshift shelter that they had set up. It was at best controlled chaos and pandemonium. Radio chatter and flood lights overwhelmed your senses. You were numb and just standing under the white canvas tent staring into the inky darkness. You felt more than saw someone slip a wool blanket over your shoulders and hand you a cup of coffee.

You glanced over and saw that it was Rooster. He gave you a sad smile, you took the coffee into your ice cold hands and quietly thanked him. You took a sip and grimaced at the black bitterness but it was just what you needed. It was beginning to thaw out your hands and you were grateful. "We don't have to talk but just so you know I'm here for you. "

You were too overwhelmed with emotions to thank him but you hoped that he could tell you appreciated him and his efforts. Rooster led you over to a chair and you all about collapsed. Rooster sat next to you and ran his hand over your back in comfort. You had a million different questions and you wanted to ask but you thought it would be inconsiderate. You had a death grip on your coffee cup and your leg was bouncing wildly.

Rooster's big hand was on your leg trying to cease your jumpy movements. You put your hand over his and held on so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. There was a lull in the commotion and you could hear excited chatter throughout the crowd of military personnel. ".....found the wreckage ..... ejected....no sign of......bringing in trackers...."

Your head snapped up at the mention of trackers being brought in to help with the search. You looked at Rooster with hope in your tear stained eyes and he didn't have the heart to tell you that it wasn't always a good sign. He didn't have it in him to add to your heartbreak. "What does that mean? That's good, right? They walked away from the crash? They're still alive?!" Rooster silently pleaded with Maverick and he came and sat on your other side. "It's too early to tell but we should know something soon."

Dejected and overwhelmed with worry you felt a fresh set of tears forming behind your eyes. You were starting to succumb to exhaustion and fatigue. Your eyes drooping shut, you just decided to close your eyes and rest your head on Rooster's shoulder. Soon enough you let the comfort of darkness consume you completely with one last thought of Jake and Javy. Please let him come back to me.

~fin~

@tess-love @erindiggory @luna-lovethegood @scarlettwidow19 @ilack3 @imlilconcerned @sarahwasfound @sgt-barnesveins @angelbabyange @mini-bee-bee @supergirl000983 @mrsevans90 @trickphotography2 @jakeyzzz @jessa-21 @madisonmg @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @1111zxc @topgunfan1986 @tess-lecter-blog @tgmavericklover @hangmandruigandmav @hookslove1592 @the-romanian-is-bae @kyliesalvatore @runningawayfromsociety @awhitemanswhoresblog @halibshepherd @atarmychick007 @86laura11 @rockstxr-x @kissmunalodz @crispycitrus @dizzybee03 @caitsymichelle13 @bellaireland1981 @blah-blah-blah-bla @mamachasesmayhem @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @beautifulandvoid @rosiahills22 @erindiggory @tonkatesuramen @fandom-life-12 @tootser98 @ellianwhite @mamaskillerqueen @kyliesalvatore @toobouquet

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

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The Rebound 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Curtis Everett

Summary: after a divorce, you try to start over.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You get up early on Saturday. You’ve made up your mind, you’re not going to let your ex ruin your progress. So you missed a few days, that doesn’t mean it’s over. You can always pick up and keep going. You’re not starting over, you’re finishing what you started.

You head into town first. It’ll add some extra kilometers to your daily walk, just a small dent in what you skipped. You stop by the bakery, closer to a cafe with its steaming espresso machines, and pick up an Americano for a boost. No dairy, no sweetener, you’re sticking to that at least.

You resist the call of the strawberry tarts in the display and thank the woman behind the counter. She’s younger than you and she owns this whole place. A pang of envy nips at you as you turn to go. You feel like you missed out on the years you could’ve built something of your own.

You set off, blowing over the slot of the cup’s lid. The brew fills your nose with its rich scent as you set down the path towards the trees. Up a hill and the coffee’s cool enough to taste. You nurse it slowly as you wind around the rise and fall of the village.

You enter the woods, this time from the opposite edge and the shade of the leaves cools the sweat on your nape. You sigh and take a rest, leaning on a tree as you savour the flavour of the diluted espresso.

You nearly spill as you hear a twig snap. You turn and look around either side of the tree. You’re not used to the strange noise of the wilderness. Out there, something’s always moving, something’s always fluttering or chittering.

The trail stretches on and you follow it down to the babbling stream. You’re close to done the coffee, you hadn’t thought about what to do with the cup. Oh well. You hang onto it as you near the water’s edge.

You stare down at yourself. The ripples distort your reflection and yet, not very much. You’ve got some padding to lose around your thighs and tummy. Maybe even your upper arms. You need to put more energy into walking. You’re older and your metabolism can’t keep up.

You sigh and drain the last of the coffee, choking the bitter dregs in the bottom. You crush the cup flat and slide the lid inside. You drop your shoulder and spin on your heel. A yelp lodges in your throat but can’t escape. You grip your chest as a figure stands watching, so silent and unmoving he nearly blends in with the trees.

“I– I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you,” you gasp as you drop your hand.

Curtis blinks and doesn’t say a word. He steps forward, treading down to the river, stopping just a foot away from you. It’s like he didn’t even hear you. You stutter and snap your mouth shut, slowly retreating.

“It’s fine,” he says at last and bends to dip his hands into the water. “Ran into some skunkweed.”

“Oh, uh, that’s… cruddy,” you utter awkwardly. “I was just going.”

He continues to stir his hands in the water. You back away and look down at the cup in your hands. The tweeting of birds tweaks in your ears.

“Nice to see you back,” he says, so low, you’re not sure he truly said a word.

You stop, “pardon?”

He stands and shakes his hands off, “out here.”

“What do you…”

“I have traps,” he gestures to the trees, “for rabbits.”

You frown, “oh, I didn’t see you…”

“Habit,” he shrugs, “hunter’s instinct, I guess.”

You flick your fingers over the curled brim of the cup. You know some people like the game around here but they usually go up to the northern patch, not down here. You nod and try to smile, “didn’t think there was any big game around here.”

He just stares at you, “I make do.”

“Right,” you shiver out a breath, “anyway… I’ll be off.”

He nods, “see ya around.”

“Sure, um, enjoy your book… and your hunting.”

You slowly make your way towards the trees. You pass between an oak and slender birch before you peek back. He just watches after you, unmoving. You try to shake off the goosebumps as you turn back to the path. You stop on the trail and crane back again. He’s gone.

The smell of moss and dirt drifts up from the river behind you. You crush the cup in your hand and the lid pops out. You bend to pick it up and hear something snap. You stand up so quickly it makes you dizzy. You whip around, searching, the trees adding to your disorientation.

You stumble and set yourself straight. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. Faster. Faster. It’s just the wind, it’s just a squirrel or a rabbit. It’s nothing. Those twigs snapping, the branches rustling, it’s all just natural.

As you come in sight of the treeline and the open expanse of the fields, you’re almost running. You stop just as you escape the forest. You let the question bloom in your mind. How could he have seen you all as you had no idea he was there? Why hadn’t he said hello?

You slow but not much. Your lungs burn and your calves ache. You shouldn’t think too hard about it. Curtis is just quiet, he’s not much of a talker. Yet, the man you saw in the woods seemed much different than the one in the library. The way he looked at you, as if taking the measure of you, as if you were prey.

No, it’s all in your head. Don’t be silly. The woods are desolate and eerie, it plays tricks on you. Besides, look at you. You’re definitely not drawing any unwarranted attention. Not from anyone but your bitter ex.

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #the rebound #series #snowpiercer #au #backwoods au #drabble

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ink-flavored · 2 months

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🐕50 Questions About Your OC’s Pet🐱

Does your OC have a pet? Does your OC have a LOT of pets? Take a look at this list of 50 entire questions to get into the weeds of your OC’s relationship with their animals. Remember to send an ask to the person you reblog it from to make sure everyone gets to play!

Do they have a pet? What kind? More than one?

How did they name their pet(s)?

How long have they had their pet(s)?

Did they have a childhood pet?

Do they have a favorite pet?

If they don’t have a pet, do they want one? What kind?

Are they finally able to have a pet after being denied it in the past?

Is their pet their favorite animal?

Do they have their pet(s) on purpose, or did it drop into their lap by chance?

If they have multiple pets, do they get along? Are they even allowed to be in the same room together?

Is their pet considered a “normal” pet that lots of people have, or an “exotic” pet that’s uncommon to find?

Is their pet considered dirty, dangerous, or otherwise socially unacceptable to keep? How does this impact their decision to have one?

Why did they want a pet in the first place?

What did they expect when they got their pet(s)? Was it an accurate expectation?

Have their opinions of animals changed since they got their pet(s)?

What do they love most about having their pet(s)?

What’s their daily routine with their pet(s)?

Did they get their pet for a “purpose” (guarding, herding, hunting, etc.)?

Have they ever had a pet run away? Were they able to find it?

Have any of their pets ever died?

Did they do any research before getting their pet(s)? Did they do any after?

Does their pet have a favorite food?

Does their pet have a favorite toy?

Does their pet have a “best friend,” or preferred playmate?

Does their pet have a favorite place to sit or sleep?

Does their pet have any personality quirks?

Does their pet cause trouble around the house? Have they taken any precautions to prevent the damage?

Do they let their pet(s) sleep in bed with them? Do they wish their pet(s) would sleep with them?

Does their pet wake them up in the morning regularly?

How much clean-up does their pet require?

How much exercise does their pet need on a daily basis?

Does their pet enjoy being picked up and carried around?

Is it hard for them to keep their pet(s) in their current environment? What makes it difficult?

Have they ever snuck their pet(s) somewhere they weren’t supposed to be? How did it go?

Have they ever had to keep their pet(s) a secret to keep living somewhere? Have they ever been caught?

Are people often frightened by their pet(s)? Do they care?

Have they trained their pet(s) at all? How intensely?

Have they gone full “pet parent”? Do they treat their pet(s) like their child(ren)?

Do they go out with their pet(s) a lot?

Does their pet shed (fur, feathers, or scales)?

How often does their pet go to the vet?

Has their pet ever eaten something they weren’t supposed to?

Is their pet hard to take care of? In which ways?

If anything was possible, what would their ideal pet be?

Does their pet help them emotionally? In which ways?

What would it take for them to rehome their pet(s)?

Do they want any more pets, or are they fine with what they have?

If given the ultimatum “it’s me or the pet,” which side would they take?

Is their pet a good judge of character?

Wild card! Answer any question you want!

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onyourhyuck · 1 year

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MRS NA? | NA JAEMIN. | PART THREE.

— Prologue: “Did you know your son can’t read?.” + “They don’t need a friend. They need a father.”

— Summary: Wherein Go Yeeun wakes up from a coma and meets Na Jaemin claiming to be her husband and have five children together.

— Genre: jaemin series. Romance. Found family. Mystery. Smut. Crack. Fluffiness.

Notes: THIS IS A JAEMIN SERIES ON MY BLOG. reblog and follow me for more daily updates.

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Go Yeeun ran across the room reaching the ringing telephone attach to the plug. It was one of those house phones you wire to the wall in the plug, it wasn’t anything fancy technology at all. It’s not like the household could afford anything fancy or new; they were a poor family.

As the phone was lifted closing to the ear, breathing few series of pants as she ran across the room. Yeeun spoke on the overhead phone line. “Yes hello?”

“Is this Mrs Na?” An elderly woman on the phone spoke and Yeeun’s eyebrows furrows. “Yes that’s me.”

What was the phone call for? Yeeun has no idea but many things ran through her head. All possibilities were bad. Heart was racing as if it was a hostage situation, as if this was something to be afraid of. Afterall Yeeun has only been living in this house for only two days or so. Nothing to see positive. Especially after going through the chores she’s been doing all day.

The elderly voice was sensing the panic in Yeeun’s voice and she reassured, though the news wasn’t the brightest. “I am calling from your children’s school to let you know that your sons have all gotten detention for misbehaviour. I am calling you to come to school and pick them up.”

“Their teacher would like to have a conversation with you about their learning process.”

Yeeun’s eyes rides with the voice on the line flowing and the woman drops the phone. She treads to the cloak bringing a jacket on and then grabbing house keys. The dogs sat in front of the door sniffing, as if they were wanting to go on a walk. Yeeun turns to the two collie shepherds dogs; Ruby and Pearl watching with glistening eyes.

‘They want to go on a walk…’ Yeeun thought to one.

At first she wasn’t going to take the dogs with her. But Jaemin took the car to work today and Yeeun will have to walk the distance to the school. It’s not too far. By walk it would take about thirty minutes or so. However even if Yeeun had the car she wouldn’t be able to drive it. She would most likely stress out. She sighs watching the dogs sitting, wagging their tails as if their puppy eyes weren’t enough.

She’s definitely not leaving without the dogs now.

“Argh… fine.” Yeeun said coming forward again opening the glass door. Reaching forward on the shelves grabbing the two dog leashes. Then reaching to the two dogs attaching them on the collar. Ruby and Pearl were suddenly happy with joyous barking. Yeeun slightly smiles. “You guys wouldn’t leave me alone without me walking you.” She sighs.

And then pulling the dogs out of the door Yeeun closed the door shut locking the front with the house keys.

The dogs were making the distance quicker if honestly Yeeun has been glad she took the dogs. It would’ve made the whole chores more easier. Though sometimes the dogs were a massive pain to take care of considering they bite everything. Every little furniture in sight. They require a lot of time to be watched over.

They were like another set of children Yeeun did not want.

Arriving to the school Yeeun walks through the reception in which they take her through the classroom where she then meets eyes with teacher sitting down at the desk motioning Yeeun to come inside. The children were sitting down on the chairs, as if they were punished by the teachers beforehand the arrival of their mother.

The teacher stands up greeting the woman. “Mrs Na?” She questions and Yeeun nods slowly focusing back on the teacher away from the children now. “Yes that’s me.”

“I wasn’t aware they had a mother,” The teacher softly let out.

“Why wouldn’t they have a mother?” Yeeun��s eyebrows raise up suspiciously. “And why are my sons with injures?” She comes forward grabbing Insung’s hand out seeing red marks, what looks like long lines.

Insu would be left with scarring on his neck, it looks like someone had to grab him from behind roughly. And then Hanuel the eldest boy had a bruise on his cheek. It looks faint as if it was a fresh mark.

Yeeun glares over at the teacher as she takes steps away from Insung to approach Yongsoo who was hiding his hands. They had red scars on them covered by dry blood. It wasn’t much, but it made Yeeun’s protective nature want to protect them. Who dares land their filthy hands on her children?

The teacher softly said. Trying to stay calm. But Yeeun could see right through it. They were definitely the one behind these horrible things.

“They had a fight with students. They’re disruptive. And they do not learn anything.” The woman tells.

Yeeun raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me other students attacked my sons and gave them these injuries on their bodies?” She couldn’t believe it. If they had a fight where are the other students who attacked them, shouldn’t they be punished too? Not just her boys.

The teacher stays quiet. It looks like Yeeun caught them red handed and she comes forward staring down the woman. As the boys watch their mother up front completely look like she was one step away from murdering this woman.

“What is your name?” Yeeun demands, not asking at all. The woman stumbles on the words as if she was scared to tell them her name. “The students call me Mrs Hong.”

“Mrs Hong.” Yeeun repeats darkly. “I will make this very bluntly obvious,

Your job is to teach my sons, not to harass them and openly abuse them. And then play it out on other students as if they were a bunch of delinquents.” Yeeun seethes slamming the hand on the desk. Mrs Hong flinches at the slam and looks down on the floor slowly nodding. “Do I make my self clear, Mrs Hong?” Yeeun glares.

“Yes M’am…”

“If I see my children hurt again, you best believe I will be getting the police involved and I’ll make sure you rot in a prison cell somewhere far away from civilians.” Yeeun wasn’t joking she seems like she’s done this before and it openly terrifies the whole room causing a dark atmosphere to take over.

Yeeun turns around grabbing Yongsoo. She lifts the small boy up and holds him close to her chest. She then turns to the twins and Hanuel speaking firmly. She was filled with unexpected anger; Did Jaemin know his children were getting hurt? And how come no one else helped them out? This was ridiculous. Yeeun will not tolerate any harm come to her children.

“Come on boys let’s leave, Haewon is outside with the dogs.” Yeeun said. The boys don’t rely but nod at their mother’s side as they walk out of the classroom.

It’s safe to say, Mrs Hong will not be able to get away with such actions anytime soon again.

When arriving home the boys were sitting down the long dining table together with their mother trying to do the homework they were given.

Usually the boys would refuse to do such things. Jaemin would never care if they do their homework because he’s simply more laid back and relaxed about such trivial things. However Yeeun wasn’t so much lenient about such things.

She wants them to have a good education.

“You’re starting to get it.” Yeeun smiles praising down Hanuel who was doing the mathematics homework writing it down on the lined paper. She softly pets his hair from behind. Hanuel slowly trails. “You’re very smart mum.” He beams.

Without Yeeun’s help Hanuel would never have understood how to solve these problems. Surprisingly Yeeun wasn’t sure how come she was so good at maths.

It just clicked in her brain, like an unlocked memory she couldn’t remember before until the moment she was sat down helping Hanuel to figure this out.

“How about you Insung and Insu?” Yeeun suddenly turns to the twins watching them write down the English words.

They’re meant to translate the Korean to the English however they are a lost cause when trying to learn languages. They simply don’t understand English. Yeeun saw the twin boy’s struggle becoming slightly more or less not focused anymore with each fail.

“I don’t know what Apple is in English.” Insu complains crossing his arms on the chest. Insung rolls his eyes. “It’s obviously this one.” The boy points down at the word in English for ‘Orange’ and Yeeun stares tilting her head in confusion.

“That’s not right either Insung.” Yeeun said as she comes forward pointing at the finger without thinking, it’s like her body moved on its own. She would find the correct word for apple in English. “It’s this word.”

“Oh!” Insung and Insu let out unison surprised by their mother’s presence of help. She can do English too? Just how much can their mother do, they weren’t aware how smart she is.

“Thanks mum.” The twins say beaming as they write the correct answer down. Yeeun smiles feeling warmth burn in her heart. She never though helping others this much with homework would be so sweet and wholesome.

However one person was rejecting help and that was the youngest, Yongsoo. Yongsoo was staring down at the homework paper struggling quietly as if he hasn’t moved ever since they sat down all together to do the homework. Yeeun walks to Yongsoo. He was the youngest so he was only having to do reading exercises. However even if he had the less work to do than his older brothers, Yongsoo hasn’t done anything.

He was frozen in space while sitting down on the chair watching the paper with disinterest.

“Yongsoo, what does that word say?” Yeeun’s finger pressed on the word ‘car’ and the small boy with brown long curly locks looks away with embarrassment. He was so quiet that he just ran off from the table.

“Hey Yongsoo where are you off to?” Yeeun shouts. Yeeun watches Yongsoo run away. He leaves the rest and Yeeun turns to the other boys in confusion.

The boys sigh as if they knew what just happened and Yeeun was the only one left behind wondering what was that just about? Why did Yongsoo run away like that?

“What happened to Yongsoo?” Yeeun questions in a prance. Confusion written on the woman’s face and Hanuel murmurs first. “He cannot read.”

‘He can’t read…?’ Yeeun thought that was impossible. Children his age know how to read and write already. How come Yongsoo was not taught anything?

“He is ashamed of himself.” Insu adds softly as if he was quiet and getting sad knowing their younger brother was probably beating himself up for not being able to read or write at his big age.

“The teachers ridicule him because he’s behind reading and writing. The kids make fun of him for it too sometimes.” Insung the other twin tells their mother and she straightens upwards with a worrisome amount on her head.

Yeeun stumbles thinking. “That’s horrible. And your father never did anything to help Yongsoo?”

Where was Jaemin when all of this was happening? Where was their father when they needed him the most?

Hanuel and the twins stare at the woman in silence. They given no answer because, they didn’t know either. They didn’t know where their father was. He didn’t claim the responsibility title at all over them. But the silence was a loud enough answer for Yeeun. She clenched her hands together behind lowly.

She can’t help but pity the children.

Yeeun leaves the room going up the stairs creaking on each other sound the moment the feet land on stairs made of all sorts of wooden material. The door slowly opens letting herself in she would see Yongsoo hidden in the corner of the bedroom. It was a small bedroom where all the children slept together. They had their own beds while sharing this small room. It was their space with toys. Books. The posters on the walls and what not.

Quiet sounds of crying was heard and Yeeun wraps arms round the boy pulling him closer to her body to engulf the poor boy in an embrace.

“Yongsoo…” Yeeun softly whispers as she runs his back down with the palm. It somehow dents the boy’s worries away. It was soothing in a way to have parental figure after so long embrace him when he was always crying alone.

Alone to deal with all these emotions he can’t seem to process well.

Yongsoo croaks. “I am sorry for not being able to read or write.”

The woman holding him in this warm heart-full embrace wants to say to the boy that he shouldn’t apologise for something he cannot control. For something that was not his fault at all only the fault at the environment he grew up in with the lack of parental guidance. Yeeun feels responsible. Where was she all this time? Surely she wouldn’t have let Yongsoo deal with this all along? And where was his father when he needs one?

“You shouldn’t apologise. Let’s not say sorry. It’s never too late for me to teach you to write or read, Yongsoo.”

His eyes slowly light up. It’s the first time he’s ever heard that from anyone. Yeeun smiles seeing Yongsoo’s tears wiped by her hand as she would kiss his temple on the side of the boy’s head. “Look it’s not that hard to learn reading and writing. You’re a smart boy. So how about we go downstairs and I teach you?”

Yongsoo would like that a lot. He would like to learn from his mother the most.

“Okay, let’s do that.”

“Goodnight children.”

Yeeun said standing by the door. The children were all tucked into their representatives beds. Hanuel and Haewon’s separate beds next to one another. The boy was sleeping under the deep navy blue sheets with planets on them.

Haewon was neatly tucked inside the purple and white blankets on the bed on top of her. She had a bunny doll next to her bed tuck into the right area where she held it to sleep every night.

Yeeun looks over to the right side of the room where the twins beds were next to one another. Insu with green blanket with flowers on them. While Insung would have a red iron man blanket over him as he was soon to fall asleep. She could see his eyes getting heavier.

And finally her eyes meet Yongsoo and she smiles at him as Yongsoo was finally happier than he was before. They studied hard all day. And he was actually pretty good at learning to write and read. Yeeun slowly goes over to tuck the yellow blanket around the younger boy smiling.

“Goodnight Yongsoo.” She says. Yongsoo mutters tiredly. “Goodnight Mum.”

“Goodnight mum!” The other children said as Yeeun smiles back at them. She slowly turns off the light switch and closed the door letting the children finally go to sleep in the dark room.

She slowly walks away from the door and enters the bedroom sitting on the end of her own bed in the bedroom she shared with her husband.

However she doesn’t sleep on this bed, her husband does. She crossed arms together as she was in deep thought wondering when he was about to return. She had a lot to discuss with him.

Soon the man comes inside the house. It was few minutes before she tucked the children to bed and they were fast asleep by now. Jaemin made his way up the stairs to go inside his bedroom as he took off the shoes and the jacket slipping off the body. He had a tired expression on his face today too; he seems tired from all the work he did today. But when he least expected it Yeeun sits on the edge of his bed as he turns the light switch on.

“Oh god!” He jumps back a little with a fright catching his heart in his chest. He sighs deeply. “It’s only you Bunny lips. Geez why were you sitting in the dark alone here?” Jaemin shakes his head.

He doesn’t understand Yeeun sometimes.

Yeeun doesn’t reply but keeps her stern gaze on him she was so unimpressed. Jaemin whistles as he didn’t hear anything from his wife and he slowly turns to her.

Why was there so much tension? Jaemin couldn’t brush it off.

“What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like I did something today.” Jaemin couldn’t even figure out what he did today to her. They barely spoke today. They were far too busy.

Yeeun sighs. “I have a lot to say to you right now, about our children.”

Jaemin hums as he was taking off the jacket putting it back on the hanger, as he spoke he was multitasking taking off his shirt. “Ahuh? Like what.”

Yeeun glares. ‘Cant he at least stop doing something as I’m speaking about something important?’ She can’t believe that he can’t stay still and listen for a minute to her.

“It’s about Yongsoo.” She adds. “Did you know your son can’t read?”

Jaemin didn’t seem fazed for a moment. “Well he is only two is he not?” Yeeun blurts out cutting him off. “He’s four.” She corrects him standing up from his bed and Jaemin paused slightly shocked.

Was Yongsoo already that old? Jaemin couldn’t believe it as he turns around facing Yeeun slowly. Yeeun sighs out, she feels her blood boiling. Jaemin was irresponsible enough and it’s hard to do this alone taking care of five children; and Jaemin wasn’t doing his role correctly.

He wasn’t doing what a father was meant to be doing.

“Did you know the children get hurt at school? The teacher abused them. Assaults them even.” Yeeun snaps angrily. “Did you even bother checking on them with their school work?”

“Education isn’t that important to people like us.” Jaemin replies shrugging. “We are poor. The society doesn’t expect anything from us other than the bare minimum hard labour jobs.”

“That shouldn’t be the examples you should be setting for our children.” Yeeun spat. “I want them to have a good education. I want them to be able to go to college and university later on.”

“And that fucking bitch, she hurt them.” Yeeun swore holding her tongue as she grasps the fact that Jaemin hears her swear for the first time. He stands there trying to motion her to stay calm.

“Yeeun maybe you should calm dow—“

“Jaemin I am calm.” Yeeun seethes staring at him. “I didn’t murder that teacher so I think I’m perfectly calm right now.”

“I’m trying my best to be their friend, Yeeun.” Jaemin slowly treads as he was finally understanding the frustration that she must be going through. He saw her look at him holding his arms tight. He pauses watching her with widen eyes as Yeeun looks.

Yeeun slowly murmurs watching him as if she was pleading him but at the same time having loss hope. “They don’t need a friend. They need a father.” She softly whispers closing her eyes. “They need your guidance Jaemin the most at this age.”

Jaemin slowly nods. Yeeun was right and he knew she was right because he was denying this whole responsibility of being a parent for far too long. He didn’t even know how to take care about them. So all he thought about was a distraction to get away; working and working all the time.

And somehow he assumed the children will figure it out on their own. But oh how wrong he was.

“You’re right… I’m sorry.” Jaemin finally apologised as his eyes were avoiding to look directly at her eyes. He suddenly feels the genuine shame on his poor part of parenting the children.

Yeeun pulls away as she starts walking out the bedroom. “Goodnight Jaemin, sleep well.” She didn’t know what else to say. But she remembered that it was late and she has to get up earlier to help the children get ready for school.

“Goodnight Yeeun…”

That night Jaemin had an awakening, that perhaps he should have been a better father. Better husband. Better person.

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@onyourhyuck the refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates and masterlist for Mrs Na on my pinned.

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writerpussyindulgence · 24 days

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A Fool Out of Time: A Deep Space Nine Story. Chapter 1

Author’s Note: okay, so I was initially going to wait and post this on my AO3 account, but then I said “Fuck it” and decided to put at least a few bits on here first. This is a silly little self indulgent AU that I wanted to write simply because I’ve been rewatching DS9 from the start, and also to work on my writing skills. It takes place around season 2 (don’t ask me which episodes, I haven’t decided yet). If you like this, please consider following this blog and reblogging this chapter. I appreciate it and I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Warnings: none

Chapter One: The Girl in the Ice

It had been a relatively mellow day on Deep Space Nine. There were no threats towards the station, no bizarre visitors, nothing particularly notable. This allowed the crew to take their time and relax. There had been a few ships that had flown in to drop off their contents, mostly supplies for the station and mutual aid for the rebuilding of Bajor. The only exception was a junk freighter that was importing goods and services from Earth to other Federation planets, as a way of sharing Human culture with other aliens. Commander Sisko was in his office, filling out a daily log, when his combadge buzzed.

“Odo to Sisko” the gruff voice called.

“Go ahead” Sisko replied

“There’s something you need to come and see. One of the merchant ships at docking bay 3 brought in something that…well, you just need to see it to believe it.”

“I’m on my way. Sisko out” the commander said, and he walked out of his office towards docking bay 3. When he arrived, he saw Odo, Chief O’Brien and Dr Bashir surrounding a large metal pod with a small, glass window at the top front. The captain of the freighter, a human man about mid 40’s stood over to the side, arms folded.

“What have we got here?” Sisko said as he approached. He took a look at the inside of the pod, and was taken aback by what he saw. Inside there was a person covered with a light dusting of frost, stuck in a cryogenic sleep.

“Captain McGill here claims that he found it in an abandoned warehouse in an Earth city called Chicago.” Odo said skeptically as he gestured to the man standing to the side

“Well it’s true!” McGill interrupted indignantly. “What are you implying? That I kidnapped somebody and stuck them in a cryo tube? I’m a merchant, not a kidnapper”

“He’s telling the truth, sir” Miles remarked as he ran a tricorder along the metal exterior. “According to the readings, this tube is from the 21st century. Around 2023 it looks like.”

“And yet you still took it for your own?” Sisko asked McGill, a hint of distrust in his voice.

“I didn’t know it had a person in there!” McGill protested. “There was a lot more ice on that window, I couldn’t see through it. I was going to take it to an outpost and have it looked at! Honest!”

“Outpost? Why not just take it to Starfleet on Earth? We have a base in Northside Chicago.” Sisko queried.

“I didn’t have the time.” McGill spluttered. “I had an important rendezvous with a customer on Rigel VII.” He quickly pulled out a pad and handed it over to Odo. It was a proof of purchase from said important customer, and an itinerary of planned stops, which indeed included Outpost 12. Sisko and Odo carefully looked over everything. Finally, with a shared look, they handed the pad back to McGill.

“Everything looks like it’s in order, but we will be keeping an eye on you, Captain McGill. In the meantime, we will take this tube into our custody.” Odo stated gruffly. McGill nodded aggressively

“Well that’s all very fine, but I believe I deserve some kind of compensation for this inconvenience? Or at least something in return since I am a merchant?” He remarked with a smarmy attitude.

“Your compensation is that we don’t place you in a holding cell for further investigation” Sisko stated firmly. “Now, if there’s nothing else that we need to know, you’re free to go about your business.”

McGill huffed resentfully, then pivoted and stomped away to his ship. At that, the three men and 5 other security officers turned the cryo-tube onto a large moving cart on its side, and pushed it into one of the large observation rooms on the station.

Lieutenant Dax, and Major Kira were already there waiting for them.

“Commander, we got a call from one of the security officers to meet you here. What’s going on?” Kira asked.

“It looks like we’re about to find out.” Sisko replied.

With the help of several officers, the tube was finally pried open, and the person was set on the examination table. The crew gathered around to take a good look. It was a young woman, about early 20’s and plus sized with dark red, shoulder length hair, pale skin and freckles all over her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were closed and her teeth clenched as her face reflected frustration. Her fists were raised as if she was pounding against the inside of the tube. She wore ripped jeans, black Doc Martens, a baggy red short sleeve shirt and a leather jacket. At her feet in the tube there was a knapsack made of carpet carrying goodness knows what

“How long will it take to thaw her out and regain consciousness?” Sisko asked, turning towards Jadzia.

“Well if we keep the temperature at a level where she won’t get hypothermia, about 2 hours minimum. As for waking her up, there’s no telling” she responded

“I’ll look after her.” Julian said “She’ll need to be inoculated when she wakes up, and most importantly she’s going to need someone to calm her down. This century and station is going to be a vicious culture shock for her. It may send her into a panic”

“Do whatever you need to” Sisko insisted. Julian and Jadzia had themselves and the woman beamed to the infirmary, where they got to work on the thawing process and the other necessary procedures

About 5 hours later, Julian was adding some data input to the files he had open on the woman and the information he had been able to find from old archives of the 21st century and the 2020’s. Suddenly from behind him, he heard the rustling of movement and a low groan. His ears perked up and turned around. The woman was starting to slowly move. Her foot twitched as she tried to move up her arm to stretch. She gasped in pain as her muscles ached after being stuck in place for so long.

Julian stood over her with a gentle hand on her shoulder and a tricorder in the other as her dark brown eyes fluttered open. She squinted up in confusion at the doctor above her and groaned in protest at the bright lights obstructing her vision

“Computer, dim the lights by 30%” Julian called out. The lights dimmed, putting less strain on her sight “It’s okay, you’re alright now.” He said, gently squeezing her shoulder. The woman turned her head to try and get a look at her surroundings.

“Where am I?” She croaked.

“You’re in an infirmary.” Julian replied gently “I’ll answer more of your questions soon if you could answer some of mine, if you please”. The girl nodded weakly. “Good. Now tell me first, what was the last thing you remember?”

The girl looked at him and then back up at the ceiling in contemplation.

“I…I was in an abandoned building, on the West Side. I was running from…from somebody. I needed to hide, they wouldn’t leave me alone. I was in a cellar full of these…these big tubes. Tubes with…frozen people inside of them. I got scared and…I got stuck in one. I kept banging on the door trying to get out and then…And then…it got cold and dark” she trailed off, then fear filled her face as she looked back at Julian. “Am I dead?”

He chuckled and took her hand in his, gently rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

“No, you’re very much alive. Do you think you can answer a few more questions for me?” She nodded again. “Good. Now who is the current president?” He asked

“…Biden. Unless….was I out for long? Like months? A year?”

“….No. Now finally, can you tell me your name and your pronouns?” Julian asked again

“My name’s Harper D’Amata. She/her.” said she, starting to look at him with increasing suspicion. “Where am I really? This doesn’t look like Northwestern” she tried to sit up but winced in pain again, because of her sore muscles. Julian made her lie back again.

“Well then, Harper. My name is Dr Julian Bashir, he/him. And I have no other way I can tell you this, but I suppose I’ll need to just rip the bandage off. That tube you were stuck in was a cryogenics case. You’ve been in a frozen slumber for about 348 years.”

Julian could only stand there as he watched the color drain from Harper’s face. A look of confusion, terror and denial washed over her.

“What!? No no no, it's not true.” She sputtered out, tears threatening to spill over.

"It's true," Julian said softly, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions evident in the room. “and I’m very sorry. I can’t possibly imagine what you’re feeling right now”

“You’re damn right you don’t!” Harper cut him off, her voice cracking from fear, rage, and the lack of usage. “You’re lying! Where am I really?? Did you break in to that room and kidnap me?” As she spoke, she struggled to sit up despite her body’s aches and pains. Julian firmly put a hand back on her shoulder and tried to push her back down

“I assure you that I’m not a liar nor a kidnapper” Julian said firmly. Harper shook her head repeatedly and shoved him away. She threw herself off of the biobed, frantically grabbed her knapsack off of one of the chairs and sprinted out of the infirmary. Julian tapped his combadge.

“Bashir to security. Patient 12 has escaped the infirmary. Track her down, but please don’t scare or stun her!”

As soon as she was as far enough away from the infirmary, Harper stopped to catch her breath. She looked down the long, dark halls of the station. Everything looked the same, she couldn’t tell which way was which. Her heart racing, she continued running forward, her muscles throbbing in pain. She turned left and ran out onto the Promenade, and stopped short, taking in the bizarre new environment around her.

Humans. Aliens. All together walking around the wide area, conversing with one another, buying food and articles from vendors, sitting down. All around her there was a cacophony of unfamiliar sights and sounds. Harper felt as if her heart was going to burst out of her chest, her breathing labored. Eyes darting this way and that, she desperately searched around her for something that looked like an exit, but she couldn’t see one.

Before she could even take another step, a shout echoed across the Promenade.

“You, in the red! Stop right there!” She glanced up and saw Odo on the top level, pointing directly at her. She recoiled in fright at the sight of his smooth, undefined face and ran in the opposite direction. Weaving her way between individuals as carefully as she could, she pushed her way through the crowd. She didn't dare look back, but she could feel the presence of pursuit gaining on her. She ran faster, no longer caring who or what she bumped into.

Suddenly there was a loud *zing!* sound and she felt something excruciatingly sharp and agonizing hit her right between her shoulder blades. She shrieked in pain, and fell onto the floor, face first and unconscious.

Odo and two Starfleet officers walked up to her and stared down at her motionless body. The changeling had fired a phaser and stunned her. Julian came running up, and looked down at her in worry

“I told you not to stun her!” Julian exclaimed in exasperation.

“I had no choice.” Odo said. “She resisted my order.”

Julian sighed and crouched down, scanning her with a tricorder again. She was alright, but she was showing severe muscle trauma both from the blast and from running. He had them both beamed back to the infirmary, and had two nurses help lift her back onto the biobed

Julian immediately set about treating her injuries, administering a hypospray to ease the muscle trauma, and another to wake her up. Harper opened her eyes, and flinched when she recognized him. Julian put both hands on her shoulders firmly, but with the most care he could muster

“It’s alright.” He said. “I know you’re scared and upset. I really do. But I give you my word as a Starfleet medical officer that no one has kidnapped you. You were brought to this space station through a series of very unfortunate events.”

Harper blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to fight back tears again. It was no use as they began to fall down the side of her face. Julian softened his voice.

“Just focus on breathing, okay?” he asked. Harper nodded and took a deep, shaky breath, now starting to cry. Julian signaled for one of the nurses to replicates some tissues. He handed one to her and she dabbed at her eyes. “You’re going to be alright. You’re safe here, Harper. We’re going to take care of you.”

“But…but my life…my life back on Earth,” Harper stammered out through the sobs. “My friends. My family. My parents. All…all dead. And the worst part…the worst part is that it’s all my fault!”

Julian helped her sit up on the biobed, and he sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder in comfort.

“It’s not your fault.” Julian consoled

“Yes it is!” Harper wailed. “You don’t understand. I got into a really awful fight with my parents. I had said some things I didn’t have any business saying. I mean…I guess I did because they never were the greatest people. But still! And then I stormed out! And now I can’t even apologize to them”

Her head fell into her hands as the sobs wrecked through her body. Julian wrapped both arms around her and held her close in a tender embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Harper,” Julian whispered, his voice filled with empathy. “I promise you that none of this is your fault. I understand that this whole situation is overwhelming and terrifying, but I give you my word that everything is going to be alright.”

They sat there for several minutes in silence, save for Harper crying. Eventually Julian got up again to replicate her a glass of cold water. She looked over her shoulder at the device in confusion

“What is that?” She asked.

“It’s a replicator. We have thousands of them all over the station.” Julian replied with a smile. “We primarily use them for nourishment, but they can make anything out of reused matter”

“Anything?” Harper inquired again, an idea dawning on her.

“Yes, anything”

With that, Harper shakily sat up and walked over to the machine.

“Uh…hi computer. I’d like one cup of black coffee” she stated

“Please specify temperature.” the computer said

“Uh…hot?” Harper said, perplexed. The replicator beeped in response, and a porcelain white mug of coffee appeared in a shimmer of light and particles. She picked up the mug with both hands and splashed the scalding liquid onto her face with no hesitation. She screamed and jumped back, dropping the mug to the floor and she clutched her face. Julian lept up and ran to her, dermal regenerator ready for any burns she received

“What did you do that for??” Julian demanded, panic in his eyes. Harper dabbed the coffee from her face with the end of her shirt and blinked her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I had to do something to make sure I wasn’t having a bad dream” she groaned. Julian ran the regenerator over her face, the burn marks fading away twice as fast than they were forming.

“Well I assumed that a simple pinch would suffice.” He scoffed.

“This is too bizarre for a pinch to wake me up. What the hell even is this place? Where did all those aliens come from? How far away from Earth are we? What happened while I was asleep? Was Earth destroyed?”

Harper kept babbling out questions, until Julian held up his hand.

“I can only answer so many questions at a time. But I’d be more than happy to do so, while you let me finish examining you.”

Harper nodded and sat back down on the biobed as Julian told her about how the United Federation of Planets was created, what Deep Space Nine was, the work they did on there and about the wormhole. She hung on every word he spoke with intense curiosity. Finally he finished his exam.

“Well, you seem to be in perfectly good health, but I will try to see if I can get you a counselor for your emotions and for processing everything…if we even have one here” he stated with a cheerful smile.

“But what about my medications?” Harper asked.

“That will be no problem.” Julian replied. “I found your prescription list in your wallet when security was going through your bag, and I can easily get the molecular pattern so we can start replicating them for you. Now if there’s nothing else you need me to look at, I’d be more than happy to give you a tour of the station. My shift is done for the day.”

“Wait wait, that’s it?” Harper asked incredulously. “You’re like…not going to tell me off about my body or give me a diet?” Julian cocked his head in confusion at her.

“Well no, not really. Aside from your cholesterol level being a tad high, but it’s nothing severe. Why? Would you like me to recommend a diet? Do you have certain allergies?” He inquired, concern in his voice.

“No no, it’s just…” Harper paused and looked down at her twiddling thumbs. “It’s just my weight is always the first thing that all my doctor’s I’ve seen over the years bring up. They always point out how high my BMI is and that I need to control what I eat. They’ve always blamed every cold and problem I’ve had on me being fat”

Julian looked at her, feeling incredibly sorry for her. He had read in medical history books about how cruel the medical industrial complex of the 20th and 21st century was, especially towards disabled and fat people. About how diet culture was less of a means to wellness and more of a fashionable trend to starve yourself, drink dangerous beverages that promised “instant weight loss” and new drugs constantly being marketed that offered instantaneous results, but ultimately left the users with intestinal cancer. He tilted her head up with his finger to have her look at him, and gave her a warm smile.

“You don’t need to worry about that. The Body Mass Index was abolished back in 2077. I promise you that you’re a very healthy and beautiful woman the way you are.”

Harper’s heart fluttered. Both at his kind words, and his handsome, boyish face. She smiled back at him, gratefully.

“Thank you so much. I think I will take that tour, please.”

#wren writes #star trek deep space 9 #star trek deep space nine #deep space nine #deep space 9 #Star Trek ds9 #star trek au #star trek oc #star trek fanfiction #benjamin sisko #odo ds9 #julian bashir #jadzia dax #kira nerys #miles o'brien #quark ds9

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theerurishipper · 6 months

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What do you think of the take that despite the show telling us that Marinette is against injustice and unfair systems, the show's execution of her character pretty much just made her a person who primarily doesn't like not being on top of the food chain. You know, since the show/ Marinette never undoes unfair systems, she's just put in charge of it to be the one benefiting from them.

I don't remember anymore if the post I saw this in had alot of likes and reblogs and if this is a more widespread opinion, but I remember thinking that it was harsh but unfortunately not exactly inaccurate either.

I mean we all know what treatment Cat Noir gets/ got under Ladybug's leadership and guardianship (in comparison to Alya getting the deluxe partnership) to the point where saying it stands in ugly hypocrisy against how big of a deal the show makes about Marinette's past as a victim of bullying and systematical power abuse is an understatement.

By all means, she's been doing all of that to Cat Noir on a daily just without malicious intentions. But the only actual difference is taht she is benefiting from it and therefore the show supports Marinette's hypocritical treatment of Cat Noir and even calls it "good leadership and friendship he had to learn to be grateful for"

And Marinette's guardianship didn't exactly paint her as being much above Su-Han's level either, of yelling and stomping her foot regarding everything until she gets his way and her way only. She answers to no one and she does whatever she wants or else she can't function as a leader and you must learn your lesson.

Not to mention the show just... dropping Felix' excellent point from Emotion where he called out that Ladybug is one of the people in power who decide subjectively who gets to have powers and a voice and who doesn't. The end of season 5 wants to pretend as if her giving out the miraculous somehow disproves that but no? Shes still basically the magical monopol of the Miraculous? She's still deciding everything subjectively, even if it's just her giving her okay for Félix to keep the peacock. That's still her having given permission and she could take it away on a whim too because nothing about his correct point was done, he just dropped it and the show called it a day.

The show's writing just does her no favor in anything of this. Because I guess yes, in canon Marinette doesn't actually mind social hierarchies, she just doesn't like not being the one on top because her leadership style fundamentally requires for a hierarchy to exist since Marinette is now less and less tolerating not getting her way ever since season 4.

So Marinette as a character doesn't really mind systemic injustice and will absolutely uphold them to her benefit, we're just supposed to think it's fine for her to do it since Marinette isn't maliciously intentioned and will try to help if she notices injustice against others she's bothered by.

Which raises the question though how Marinette will react in future to any civilian person who Lila will work up against Ladybug? Her writing has by now painted a clear picture that Marinette doesn't tolerate not being treated well anymore, so how will Ladybug react when civilians will "bully" her?

If it's a person like the racist guy who arrested her mom in season 4? Will they continue the bully-logic despite Ladybug being the all mighty power monopol in Paris and on top of the city's food chain? Cause Ladynette defending herself can easily overstep the line to tyrannical behavior since SHE'S the superpowered monopol in charge of everything while THEY are regular civilians who get to have no saying or power in anything.

I don't know how to end this ask, this already went to places I initially didn't wanted to bring up. I just would love to read your opinion since I enjoy your takes alot ^^

Honestly? I think it makes sense that it might come off that way, even if I don't think it's right. I don't think Marinette is not someone who likes being on top, but she is someone who likes being in control of a situation, which can manifest in ways that seem like she does. And since the writing never portrayed her as in the wrong and only doubled down on her actions, I can see why it would seem that way after 5 seasons of it.

Thank you for your ask!

#ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Marinette Salt #Ladybug Salt #Asks

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holdinbacksecrets · 9 months

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hii lovely, do you have any fic recs?

actually while we’re at it, your writings and the things you reblog are just beautiful, do you have any book recs too?

i have so many! and thank you for sharing kind words 🖤

my bts side blog is @sayeuphoria and my fic rec tags are ‘sticky feelings’ and ‘sweet like honey’

i’ll also make a little list of my favorite fics and ones i go back to regularly. the majority of these are 18+. mdni

also, please interact with fics you love. reblog them! reblog them with tags! reblog them with comments! send an ask or message to the author! but please reblog. you know how good it feels to take yourself out for a little treat? that’s how reblogs feel, and they make writers want to keep writing. it warms the hearts of writers to know someone was touched by our work, and a part of a piece that we’re really proud of ended up being someone’s favorite part of the fic. plus, don’t you want others to read your favorite pieces?? reblog to help people find them 🖤 it’s a potluck, and if you aren’t bringing a dish (which is totally fine), at least be willing to slice and serve some cake!

Rattled by @gukslut i first read this series over the summer of 2021, and i think about it on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. i reread it every six months. it’s an absolute gem, impeccably written. one of my favorite jungkook’s i’ve ever read

My feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic i read this series as it was being posted last year, and i used to wake up so excited on the morning of a new chapter. this namjoon unleashed something in me, and i’ve been left craving love more than i used to. i love the presence of poetry too.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx this series was the first mafia au story i read and fucking loved. i’ve gone back to it so many times. i love the way hoseok’s perception of oc changes as the story progresses. oh so good and satisfying.

these blurbs by @darlingjoon tore me in half and stitched me back together

i’m a sucker for angst, and i love all the angst my lovely friend @taetaespeaches writes, especially for yoongi. perfection, but i’m going to drop some of my favorite titles of her fantastic, beautifully written work:

“i thought you left.” yoongi

“You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” yoongi

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.” yoongi

“You’ve been my future since we were teenagers.” taehyung

“Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” taehyung

“I may or may not have met someone.” taehyung

“You think I’d leave you if you falter?” jungkook

my @here2bbtstrash favorites:

deep end namjoon. this fic changed my life.

the shape of your body jimin

the spins jungkook

Love cafe by @chocosvt this jeonghan piece!!!!! AHHHHHHHH! the whole piece is amazing, but there were some scenes that were especially sweet and endearing. i remember sending a friend screenshots of dialogue freaking out.

i was so excited to share @by-moonflower-deactivated202401 bc their writing is incredible, piercing, and feels so nostalgic, but oh shit 😭😭 just learned they deactivated ☹️

book recs:

i’ve read almost everything by taylor jenkins reid, and i’ll recommend her books forever.

last year i read the book of azrael by amber v nicole and loved it. it’s a dark fantasy romance. i haven’t read the sequel yet.

this year, so far, i’ve read days at the morisaki bookshop. it’s a quick read but very sweet and comforting, with life lessons just beneath the surface. i’ve also read heavenly bodies by imani erriu. it had me screaming and kicking my feet. i posted about it here a few days ago. i’m reading the sequel right now.

dub finding ceremony by alexis pauline gumbs is a book i read my senior year of college, and it inspired a lot of writing for my independent studies prose class. braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer is another beautiful read.

#s talks #lovely nonnie #fic recs #book recs

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cssns · 2 years

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CSSNS23 IS A GO!!!!!

Alright y’all!!!! Get ready!!!! Sounds like there’s still PLENTY of interest in another year of the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer!!! I have to admit, I’m AMAZED AND SOOOOOO EXCITED!!!!

THANK Y’ALL SO MUCH!!!!!

So here are the deets...

Sign ups will be open from February 20- March 1.

Get To Know Me’s will start dropping in late April or early May.

Posting Dates will be in July, stretching into August if needed.

For those new shipmates not familiar with the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer, this is an event I created back in 2018 to address the woeful lack of Werewolf Killian fics. And we have succeeded many times over!!! The event is open to everyone. The only requirement is the fic or artwork has to be CS focused and supernatural in nature. In past years we’ve had werewolf, vampire, fae, selkie, soulmate, shapeshifter, witch, ghost, and many, many others!!

All of the past years fics can be found on ao3 here.

Any fic length is fine, from a 100 word Drabble to a 250,000 word epic MC. Any rating is fine. Any type of artwork is fine, from using traditional mediums of paint and drawing, to digital artwork to videos to gifs. Artists can elect to do their own original artwork and/or they can be paired with a fic writer to do artwork for the fic being written. And we certainly hope to have enough artists sign up that we can pair every author with an artist that wants to be paired. So please! SPREAD THE WORD!!!

Signups open a week from tomorrow, and this post will be reblogged daily on this blog as well as this years mods’ blogs in order for the most people to see the announcement!!

Any questions, you can leave an ask here, or get in touch with me or one of our other mods- @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @jrob64 @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop - either on Tumblr or discord.

Come join us!!! It’s gonna be another great SUPERNATURAL SUMMER!!!!

Tagging all former participants to help spread the word!!! Under the cut unless Tumblr ate it.

@kymbersmith-90 @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @searchingwardrobes @emmaswanchoosesyou @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @shireness-says @the-corsair-and-her-quill @youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat @everlastingcaptainswan @resident-of-storybrooke @donteattheappleshook @artistic-writer @winterbythesea @awkwardnessandbaseball @branlovestowrite @natascha-remi-ronin @distant-rose @pirateherokillian @flipperbrain @snidgetsafan @thejollyroger-writer @seriouslyhooked @doodlelolly0910 @courtorderedcake @delightfully-difficult-pirate @nerdyhuntress @rouhn @drowned-dreamer @stubble-sandwich @its-imperator-furiosa @technicallysizzlingcloud @spartanguard @captainstudmuffin @andyousaidtruelovedidntexsist @wordsmith-storyweaver @snowbellewells @initiala @ilovemesomekillianjones @jarienn972 @coaldustcanary @gingerchangeling @blessed-but-distressed @mahstatins @jennifer-morrison @polarbearmorgan @teamhook @totheendoftheworldortime @stubble-sandwich @winterbaby89 @lenfaz @yayimallamaagain @tehgreeneyes @cocohook38 @eastwesthomeisbest @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @forestiyari @abeylin1982 @shipsxahoy @seastarved @wingedlioness @the-irish-mayhem @katie-dub @shady-swan-jones @bleebug @blackwidownat2814 @darkcolinodonorgasm @djlbg @emeraldwitches @faerytold @huffleporg @idristardis @lassluna @let-it-raines @lizzyc807shipscaptainswan @wistfulcynic @thislassishooked @ultraluckycatnd @welllpthisishappening @whimsicallyenchantedrose @wyntereyez @demisexualemmaswan @imlaxdris71 @ohmightydevviepuu @shardminds @thisonesatellite @stahlop @lovelivingmydreams @iamstartraveller776 @goforlaunchcee @carpedzem @mariakov81 @clockadile @eirabach @thesschesthair @tornadoamy @justanother-unluckysoul @killianjones-twopointoh @veryverynotgoodwrites @everything-person @myfearless-love @zaharadessert @deckerstarblanche @killiansprincss @wefoundloveunderthelight @th3capta1n @sotangledupinit @grimmswan @motherkatereloyshipper @mie779 @o-wild-west-wind @whatevenisthisbloganymore @romanceapologist @undercaffinatednightmare @tintedfl0wers @tennant-the-tigger @piinfeathers @freechoicedreamer @purplehawkcaptain @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64

#cssns23 #announcement #cssns23 is a go!!!#come join us!!!

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she-karev · 1 month

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Quarantine (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Covid Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 4

AN: Hey guys the next chapter will come tomorrow, let me know what you think below and like and reblog.

Summary: Amber is quarantining in her hotel room after testing positive for covid and suffers from the symptoms. Her family tries calling her, but she doesn’t answer, they reluctantly let Andrew DeLuca check on her when their out of options.

Words: 2136

April 15th, 2020

Jackson Avery has his phone to his ear tapping his fingers impatiently on the kitchen counter of the attendings lounge waiting for the person he’s calling to pick up. It’s been three days since his best friend and roommate, Amber Karev, tested positive for covid and has been quarantining in a hotel room provided by him.

He, Alex and Jo have made a schedule where they each call Amber and make sure she’s okay. At first, she was asymptomatic but over the past 24 hours she has had headaches, fatigue, coughing and loss of taste. Her increasing symptoms have worried her family who pushed for twice daily nurses’ visits despite Amber insisting she is fine and has no shortness of breath. Alex knows that Amber acts tough to hide her pain which makes Jackson worry about her more.

He hears her voicemail for the eighth time causing him to mutter under his breath, “Fuck.”

He turns to face Alex and Jo who are in the lounge as well on their lunch breaks looking anxious and worried as well. The three of them have tried calling Amber over the past seven hours but she hasn’t answered their collective 25 calls. The one thing all three of them share in common is their love for their sister figure Amber and the stress that has come over the past three days.

“Should we call the paramedics?” Jo asks in worry for the only sibling she has ever had.

Alex inhales rubbing his tired eyes, “Let’s send a nurse to check on her and report back, she could be sleeping. Covid patients are out like a light throughout the day and her last nurses visit said her lungs were clear.”

“That’s the thing with these patients, their fine one minute and then they tank the next.” Jackson reminds him sharply, “Instead of sending her antibiotics we should have given her supplemental oxygen and taken her in for a scan.”

“Okay, okay.” Alex tries to soothe Avery’s worries sharing them as well, “Let’s send a nurse first and if Amber doesn’t answer then the paramedics barge in and take her here.”

“Your gonna have to come up with another plan.” Webber tells them with regret as he exits the bathroom in his uniform, “All of our nurses are busy with visits the whole day, the next available one is tonight.”

The three of them groan at that before Jo makes a suggestion, “What about 19? Jackson can you call Vic and see if she can visit Amber?”

“I would but their firefighter’s god knows what their schedule is like, and I don’t know if Vic would do this for me a month after she dumped me.” Jackson inhales in agony, “I would check on her, but I have a daughter and I don’t want to risk exposing her.”

“I have a full day.” Alex says with regret.

“Me too.” Jo adds with a frown.

Webber steps in knowing the pain their feeling and wanting to mend it, “I know someone who’s off today, he’s a surgeon, he’s worked on plenty of covid patients, and he would drop everything to make sure Amber is okay.”

Jackson groans knowing who his stepfather is talking about, “No! Anybody but Andrew DeLuca.”

“He saved my life.” Webber reminds Jackson, “He’s a damn good doctor, he’s stable and he loves Amber.”

“Yeah, he loves her so much he broke up with her and kicked her out after he told her she was like her abusive parents.” Jackson sarcastically points out.

Alex nods, “I’m grateful he saved your life but when it comes to my sister he can go to hell before he goes to her hotel room.”

“Look I know what he said to her was awful, but I was there at the intervention, and I saw the pain in his eyes when he admitted there was something wrong.” Richard retells to the angry men, “His priorities have evolved, he knows when to set limits and he knows to appreciate the people he loves more than ever and make up for his mistakes his illness caused. I wouldn’t make this suggestion if I didn’t believe he would move heaven and earth to make sure Amber makes it through this virus and comes back to you all alive and healthy.”

Jackson and Alex are still on the fence as they were both witnesses to Amber’s sorrow following her breakup with Andrew. Alex hugged her close to him as she cried when Andrew had a public breakdown in the lobby. Jackson opened his door to her when DeLuca viciously kicked her out during the blizzard.

Jackson thinks of Amber as his little sister and along with Alex hated seeing her growing depression over the past few months. They both know seeing Andrew again is gonna make Amber feel worse than she already does and are vehemently against Richard’s idea.

Jo however knows what it’s like to have your mental illness push the people you love away and refusing to acknowledge there’s something wrong. She knows the guilt she felt after she threatened to leave Alex and wanting to make up for it as best as she could. She’s known DeLuca longer than Amber and knows that he’s a good guy who will go above and beyond to help people especially the ones he loves.

“I say we do it.” Jo says in agreement causing Alex and Jackson to look at her in shock.

“What?” Both men ask equally annoyed.

“I’ve been where he’s at and I know the guilt he feels will drive him into checking on her and making sure she’s okay. DeLuca will cross his t’s and dot his i’s like he does with all of his patients. We can’t afford to be petty especially when it comes to Amber’s health.”

The boys are slightly calmer but still apprehensive of DeLuca visiting Amber so Jo tries again, “Hey think of it this way, maybe seeing her bastard ex will make her wake up with renewed energy that she’ll use to kill him. It’s a win-win.”

Jackson and Alex’s eyes brighten at that scenario looking at each other before nodding in agreement. Jackson turns to Webber.

“Call him and tell him she’s at the Royalton, room 1401.”

Later

Andrew walks down the hotel hallway wearing PPE carrying medical equipment in a rolling suitcase behind him. When he found out Amber was positive for covid 19 he felt scared for her life despite seeing firsthand people her age are more likely to walk away from this thing. He knows she’s healthy and in prime shape and takes necessary vitamins and fruits daily to boost her immune system. But knowing this doesn’t stop the worry that grows every day.

Webber told him that Amber hasn’t been returning her family’s calls and her symptoms have gotten worse since last night. He also said the nurses were busy, so he appointed DeLuca to go and check on her since it’s his day off.

He put on his spare baby blue scrubs that he had around his apartment knowing he would need to burn his clothes after the visit. He is grateful to Maya for lending him a gown, goggles and KN95 mask from her station when he told her where he was going. She also told him to come back after so she can hose him down with sanitizer in a serious tone.

He stops outside room 1401 and knocks on the door, “Amber? It’s Andrew are you in there?”

He waits several moments that feel like an eternity before he knocks on the door harder, “Amber?!” He pulls out the spare key the front desk gave him and the door opens after scanning. He quickly enters the room, closing the door behind him and sees Amber in bed huddled under a blanket with her eyes closed. The sight of her unmoving body causes him to assume the worst and he shakes her body trying to wake her up.

“Amber! Can you hear me?!” Amber groans at his voice slowly opening her tired eyes, seeing her awake and responsive finally makes Andrew breathe, “Thank god your awake.”

“Andrew?” Amber asks in a nasally voice looking up at him with confusion, “Am I in hell?”

Andrew chuckles at that willing to take an insult if it means she is able to, “No thank god, can you sit up?”

Amber groans but complies sitting up in full view in her blue tank top. She’s wearing black sweatpants that are covered by the comforter on her lap. She reaches over to her nightstand where she has two tissue boxes and a mask that she puts on. Andrew registers a small trash can next to her bed that is filled with used tissues no doubt used by her. He hooks her up to a pulse ox monitor on her fingertip before moving to check her breathing.

He takes his stethoscope out, “Didn’t you hear the phone ring? Your family has been calling.”

Amber explains as he hears her chest, “I turned the ringer off and set up my alarm for three hours I don’t know why you all are making a big deal out of this.” Amber checks her phone that causes her to see the problem, “And I didn’t start the timer, that’s perfect. How long was I out?”

“Seven hours. Lean forward.” Andrew informs her as she leans forward so he can listen to her breathing in her back, “Your lungs sound good on both sides, they said you’ve been getting headaches and feeling fatigue has it gotten worse since then?”

“Why are you here?” Amber bitterly asks with a nasally voice, “Aren’t there nurses that do this or did I draw the short straw as usual and get saddled with you?”

“Our nurses are busy with other visits.” Andrew tells her trying not to take her insults too personally, “There are other staff members that caught this thing and their hotel rooms are scattered across the city.”

“I guess I’m not the only one who got infected by an arrogant asshat who likes to spit in people faces.” Amber half jokes, “I think you and that guy should get a beer and make a podcast on why your right and everybody else are idiots.”

“You’re not gonna drive me away Amber.” Andrew states blankly knowing her tactics, “I’m here, I’m doing your exam and if need be, I’ll take you to the hospital if your numbers aren’t where they should be.”

“Not if I kill you first.” Amber numbly says feeling her anger dissipate due to her illness, “And I don’t have to drive you away it didn’t take much last time.”

Andrew inhales knowing she’s mad that he’s here while she’s vulnerable and is putting up a mean front to push him away. However, he knows the only way to gain Amber’s trust in him is to ride through her punches and show he’s committed.

“Well last time I was manic and irrational and made very stupid choices that almost drove all the people I love away. I’ve set boundaries, I’ve been taking my meds and going to therapy. I’ve impressed Webber enough for him to vouch for me to your folks who agreed to let me come here and make sure your okay.”

“They sent you here because they were hoping I would kill you by either strangulation or covid.”

Andrew chuckles darkly, “Yeah, I know. Your pulse ox is at 94, do you feel shortness of breath? Do you have trouble breathing?”

“No, I can breathe as long as I use up half my tissue supply.” Amber informs him as she lies back on the bed, “And my D-dimers and inflammatory markers were all negative the last time the nurse drew my blood.”

“Yeah, but that was 24 hours ago I’m gonna draw more blood and put a rush on it.” Andrew sets her up for a blood draw.

“Fine whatever just take what you need and go.” Andrew is hurt by her cold tone and what follows, “And next time I’ll take a nurse even if the next one is by the end of this thing. I already see you at work and it’s painful enough I don’t need to see you when I am sick and tired it makes everything worse. Okay this is actually causing me pain and not the good kind. Just put the needle in my vein and leave.”

Andrew sighs at that and is anguished by her cold treatment but does as she instructs taking her blood choosing to keep quiet seeing that his presence upsets Amber. He only wishes he was the one to mend her pain instead of amplifying it.

Next Part Here

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