#durig x reader

[romanarose]

IYWBW 👀 talk bitch (affectionate)

If You Wanna Be Wild, Santiago Garcia x latina!Reader x Javier Pena

Send me an ask

GOD I LOVE THIS SERIES!!!!

Below the cut is talks of sex, repressed bisexuality, religious trauma (catholic guilt) and emotional incest.

Santiago Garcia. Probably my favorite character in the oscar-verse. Wrote two series with him, Leather and Lace and then Awakening and, i adore him. So much

But young Santi? vunerable santi??? mommy issues Santi??? god. He's soooooo special to me.

The thing I wish i could emphacize better is the contrast between his abilities and his trauma.

I am not good at writting action... so i dont. But I need everyone to understand, Santi is incredibly capable as a soldier and as a DEA agent. He does not need protection, he does not hide behind Javi nor does Javi particularly stress about Santi in the field. He worries durig gunshots or when he hasn't heard from him OFC, bc thats his best friend, the man he loves, but he absolutly does not see Santi as someone he needs to stand in front of or control. He respects him as an equal the way he did Steve. He does not need his hand held and I hope I can do better in future chapters as they do more detective work going after Lorea. He's young, only 25, but a lifetime of being parentified and adult responsibilities had made him capable and smart beyond his years.

And in bed, although Candy takes the lead, through these weeks with Candy Santi has grown far more comfortable and can pleasure her for hours. It's just not shown rn bc in fics I have limited time

It's his emotions though, thats what needs protection.

We'll go more into it in a few chapters but his mom was emotionally incestuous. If you don't know what that means, let me clarify that it does not mean he was molested. It means that she treated him like husband. They Santi was expected to work from age 9 to keep the household afloat, the way his mom allowed him to stay up late with her as she complained about his dad and his sister.

His older sister, Elena, was not super helpful either but seeing as their mom was physically abusive to her and emotionally abusive in different ways, she was a victim too. These sorts of family dynamics are designed to keep siblings apart, to prevent them from banding together. Elena resented Santi a lot for not standing up for her, for their moms special treatment, but as she entered college and learned about feminist theories, she brought a new issue t Santi, even if it was inadvertent. The need to be a better man than their father, a better man than the men who victimized her.

Between his mother and sisters expectations and his strict catholic upbringing, Santi is absolutely CRUSHED by the need to be good, to be perfect, to never slip up ever. He's nto allowed to slip up, and that means repressing his sexuality, repressing his desire for Javi so far down it manifests in constant anxiety. Candy is his only outlet. Candy allows him to feel sexual without feeling like he's harming her, like he was taught sex before marriage would do...

Until A few chapters later, when the bubble bursts and all his guilt comes crashing down... but that's later.

[nomtterwhere]

beautifully kind || druig x reader

summary: druig sees the good of humanity in you every day

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the druig brainrot is alive and well, i am so obsessed with this man. anyway, this is the first of many druig fics to come, so if you enjoy it please leave a like and reblog! and of course, send me your requests! i will always try to get to as many as i can :)

There was a time when Druig would never have considered living among humans. That is, without his own personal touch. They were barbaric, they refused to live peacefully together. He would watch them fight over any and every conflict and see relationships fractured, hearts and bones broken alike. He wanted to erase it all, make them see that they could be better.

And then came you.

The first time Druig saw you, you were helping an older woman shop in the grocery store. Pushing her cart along, you reached the items that were too high on the shelf or too heavy for her to pick up. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of you as you passed an aisle he was in, and there you were: still at the old woman’s side. He kept an eye on your movements as you walked with her to the checkout line, making conversation as you waited.

Eventually, the bag boy took over. He bagged her items and helped her bring them outside as you waved goodbye to the woman. As you went back to the front of the store to retrieve your own cart, Druig realized that you didn’t know this woman. You must have simply helped her because she needed it. It was such a small act of kindness, one that others wouldn’t even think twice about.

But Druig had come to live for those acts of kindness. Too often he was subjected to the horrors of mankind. He had lived for thousands of years, witnessed countless wars, and was ordered to stand back and watch. In this beautiful moment, this small speck of humanity, he refused to let it pass.

“You know, I’ve heard these come in boxes now. More sustainable.”

You turned your head at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. The man standing beside you wasn’t even looking your way, instead, he was looking forward at the cases of water that you were reaching for. You let your eyes wander, taking in his black leather jacket and black jeans, his hands folded behind his back. He turned his head right at the moment you allowed your gaze to travel back up to his face and gave you a half-smile.

You returned it. “Yeah, I’m not really a boxed water kind of girl. And before you accuse me of hating the planet I do use reusable water gallons. These are just for a field trip I’m taking my students on.”

The stranger’s eyebrows went up. “You’re a teacher?”

You nodded. “Third grade. Shaping the minds of today’s youth.”

“That’s good.” He nodded, the half-smile still resting on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You only say that because you don’t know me. All my friends say it was a terrible idea of administration to put me in charge of children.”

“I don’t know, something tells me you make a great teacher. Someone for kids to look up to.” It was only then that you noticed the lilt in his voice, his accent giving his words a melodic tone.

“And what makes you say that?” You asked, playing along.

“Call it intuition.” He said, finally turning to face you fully.

You tried not to be too obvious as you took him in, though you were sure that you failed. Your eyes lingered on the square of his jaw then jumped to his pink lips, pulled up in one corner, as if he was amused. Black hair sat mussed at the top of his head and blue eyes shined as you made eye contact. His presence screamed unbothered and yet here he was concerning himself with a stranger in the supermarket. At that moment, you knew you wanted to get to know him. This man so fiercely declared that she was exactly who she was meant to be, despite not even knowing her.

You glanced at the case of water bottles, then looked back at him. “You mind helping me with this?”

And with that invitation, you earned your first full smile from Druig. Something told you those were not easily given out and you felt a flutter in your stomach as he answered.

“It would be my pleasure.”

//

“Okay, everyone, time’s up!” You said, and you heard collective groans throughout the room of the students who were still working.

“I was so close to finishing!” One little girl, Georgia, whined as she passed her paper forward.

You gave her an encouraging smile as you collected the sheets from the front person in each row. “And I’m sure next time you will finish. Remember guys, these are all for practice. I want to make sure you’re getting the answers correct, not just answering them quickly.”

“Then why is it called a Math Minute?” Jaime called out cheekily. He was on Minute 32, a good few sheets ahead of most of the class, and was very proud of himself for it.

“Okay, so it’s a little bit about solving the problems quickly.” Your students giggled as you took your place at the front of the room. “But I don’t want you to get discouraged if you’re not as fast as you want to be yet. These Math Minutes are also about perseverance. If you want to move forward, you will.”

You watched small heads nod in agreement and smiled as you walked to the whiteboard, where a small wheel was tacked up, with Low, Medium, High in each third. You turned the arrow to the Medium section.

“The volume in this room should not get higher than this, got it??”

“Happy medium!” Lily said, beaming.

“Correct. You may talk to each other as you wait to be dismissed for recess. Remember, happy medium.” You sat at your desk, ready to check over their answers as soft chatter began to fill the room.

A mere thirty seconds later, a knock on the door interrupted your steady flow of marking. You put your pen down, and quickly walked over to the other side of the room, opening the door to reveal a familiar face.

“Druig.” He had a soft smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

For the past six months that the two of you had been dating, he had never come to your school before. Though you figured it was only a matter of time. As aloof as his persona is, he’s also very charismatic when he wants to be and passionate. But you didn’t have plans to see each other today, hence your surprise at his standing in the third-grade hallway.

Druig held up a bag and as you looked in from the top, you could see a few containers in it, the smell wafting up into your nose reminding you that you haven’t eaten lunch yet.

“Brought you lunch. Figured you could use a pick me up after our conversation today.” He flashed you another charming smile. “Brought these by too.”

He pulled the arm that was hiding behind his back in front of him to reveal a bouquet of flowers, daisies to be exact, and you tried to contain your gasp. During the kids’ spelling test, you had been messaging back and forth and you revealed how stressed you were with work. You loved your job but the students’ end-of-year exams were coming up and it was more of a reflection of you than them. When you relayed your frustrations, Druig made it clear he wanted to relieve you of that pain but you had assumed he mean when you were home. But no, he was here, flowers in one hand and a delicious meal in the other. It was obvious now that the noise in your room had quieted down, which meant that your students were trying to eavesdrop on your conversation, not allowing you to give Druig the greeting you would have were there not peeping eyes.

“Thank you,” You whispered, taking the flowers from his hand.

You gestured him into the room, knowing the hall would be flooded with third graders soon enough and your class seeing him would supply more than enough eight-year-old gossip for today. Lucky for you, you didn’t have to deal with it right then because as soon as you closed the door behind you, the bell for recess rang.

“Your Math Minutes will be on your desk when you come back from lunch!” You called as you reopened the door to allow them to pile out of the room.

“Is that your boyfriend?” You looked down to see Lily standing in front of you, her gaze turned to your desk where Druig had started pulling out food containers from the bag. He must have sensed her gaze on him because at that moment he looked up and gave her a smile.

“He is a good friend of mine,” Was all you responded with. “Now go outside, I’ll see you when you get back.”

She simply giggled and ran out of the room before you closed the door, no doubt going to tell her friends that she had found out their teacher had a boyfriend.

Turning your attention to Druig, you can’t help but smile as you make eye contact with him.

“Druig, I swear to God–”

“How many times do I have to tell you, love, I’m an Eternal, not a god.” His nonchalant response came as he sat in your chair, focus completely on you.

You hummed in response, unable to form words even if you wanted to. Whenever he had his full attention on you like this, you often found it hard to focus on anything else. His eyes always remained the beautiful blue you had originally fallen for and yet you constantly felt like you were under his spell. He had a way of making you feel special; like you were the only one that mattered. When, in reality, you knew he cared all too much about everyone. Walking towards him, his eyes remained on you, the corner of his mouth turned up.

“Hello, beautiful,” He said, his head tilted upwards as you stood in front of him. His hands reached out, resting lightly on your waist and he tugged you forward slightly, so your body was tucked between his legs.

“Hi,” You said, suddenly becoming shy under his gaze. No matter how many times the term of endearment was used, it never failed to make your skin heat up or remind you of how lucky you were that this man had come into your life when he did.

The always enthusiastic, “beautiful!” when you stepped out in a new outfit to show him despite having spent hours in the mall. The low, seductive “so beautiful,” when you were laid bare in front of him, his hands not knowing where to touch first. The whispered beautiful when you were about to fall asleep and he thought you couldn’t hear him. And this.

“Beautiful” as a greeting, a way to convey how he saw you every day. Your soul was beautiful, you showed him that every time you were together. With every smile you sent his way, with every time you brought in morning coffee for your coworkers, with every gold star you added to your students’ papers no matter the grade. Whenever he looked at you, he was reminded of the beauty of humanity. The capacity for kindness and love that humans hold. The most minuscule acts that too often go unnoticed.

Now, Druig’s thumbs were rubbing small circles into your hips, allowing your body to relax against him, your legs still caged in by his own. His touch was so tender and intentional; every caress was thought about before being executed. His goal was to soothe you and it was working. Your hands found their place on the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing his jawline.

Without saying a word, Druig knew exactly what you needed and allowed you to pull him close enough so that your lips just barely touched. You released a sigh at the feeling of his lips on yours and surged forward, kissing him properly this time. You felt his grip on your hips tighten as your tongue slipped into his mouth. He was letting you take charge of the kiss, allowing you to set the pace and pressure. The low groan into your mouth indicated that this was something he needed as well.

Finally, you pulled back, feeling more at ease in his presence. You watched as his eyelids fluttered open, a glassy look having taken over his eyes, the look of how did I get so lucky, he explained to you once when you asked why he kept glancing at you.

“Come on, let’s eat.” He whispered, nodding to the setup he had on your desk.

Two take-out boxes sat atop your desk, Druig had already moved aside the papers you were marking up to make room. He got up from your desk chair with a light squeeze to your hips, directing you to take his place, and pulled up a second chair from your TA’s desk. Seating himself next to you, he opened up his own box, picking up a fork with his left hand and resting his right hand on your knee.

You were grateful for the contact and it was moments like these that made you appreciate the small touches even more. The simple act of eating with someone else, but to have a hand on them at all times, was something special for you and Druig.

“I really appreciate this Druig, thank you.” You said, sighing as you take your first bite of the pasta that he brought for you.

“Just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Y/N. But I’m always happy to take care of you.” He responded, giving you a small smile. "What would this world be without your beautiful kindness?"

[witchychanel]

Phone Names

▪︎The Eternals▪︎

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Druig

His phone: my beautiful beautiful Y/N 🥵

Your phone: Mister steal your food 🐿

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Makkari

Her phone: My treasure 💍

Your Phone: speedy gonzoddess 🏃🏾‍♀️

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Ikaris

His phone: my moon 🌙

Your Phone: my sunshine ☀️

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Ajak

Her phone: mi amorrr (my lovee) 😻

Your phone: Mami sorry, mommy sorry 🛐

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Kingo

His phone: the star of my life

Your Phone: my king-go

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Thena

Her phone: my goddess

Your phone: my warrior goddess

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Gilgamesh

His phone: my sweetheart

Your phone: sucker punch

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Sersi

Her phone: darling 🥰

Your phone: bunny 🐇

☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆

Should I do Phastos and Sprite ??

Also Makkari's is named after speedy Gonzales.

And Druig is always eating 💀💀💀

•••°°°•••°°°•••°°°•••°°°•••°°°•••°°°

Who should I do next?

[monsterfloofs]

Could you please write something with a cute, charming researcher or museum curator cervitaur guy? Thank you for reading!

Cervitaur (Curio) x Reader

(Hullo! Long time no see, it's been a while! Hope all of you are doing alright, and have a lovely weekend to look forward to! Hope you enjoy the short, it was nice to sit down and write again, I hope you enjoy the jovial Curio Flemming and the library of curiousities. ^-^ )

Opening the great oaken doors, you get a glimpse of a landing that looks out into a vast sea of books. Tall shelves that seem to reach up into the very hemisphere of the large domed library. The bright glass that formed the translucent bauble was made out of dazzling oranges and yellows, which cast golden shimmering panels of light across the library. Making the whole entryway seem to cheerfully and resolutely celebrate golden hour from dawn to dusk.

But you weren't here to peruse the books and while away the hours cozied into a corner. No, for today, you had a problem, and you hoped you could find someone to help you. You took the little business card out of your pocket. It was a plain card with simple gold lettering that shimmered in a warm manner when you turned it in your hand.

Curio S. Flemming

Scholar of Magical Quirks and Eccentricites

Housed in the Left Library Wing

Room B-28

Please watch your step!

"Please watch your step," you repeated aloud as you turned the card over to look at the back. Besides that little warning on the card. It did not further explain what to watch out for or why. Ah well, suppose you shall find that out when the time comes.

The library stood as a place where scholars in magic came to study and hobknob with one another. It was the biggest meeting place for the most intruiging magical minds by the far side of the moon.

So naturally, they all tended to conglomerate in the place with the most books and the most space to spread out in to study their unquie fields. So the library kept growing until, well, it had become as large as it was now.

As you move deeper into the library, your gaze turns upwards, watching the strange little small magical durigables carry letters to and fro the maze of hallways. Though some of the scholars prefered the quainter miniature hot air balloons, those also plodded along at a much slower pace. The mail would still get there on time, if not a day or so later than everyone else's.

The further you walked, the less library and more fantastical it became. There still were books, because of course there were always books in a library. Though, the floor turned to cobblestone for a short jaunt, then there was potions pluming multicolored smoke out of every crevice in doors. The mineral hall, which as the name suggests, everything was carved out of precious stone. Except the books of course, because they would be (sadly) just too heavy to read. You even passed a worrisome looking botanical area that seemed to be overrun with vines. Plants creeped out of the various botany doors and slowly curled their way up the walls to gather books from high shelves.

One friendly vine even held open a door for you. And you thanked it politely as you hurry past.

You check your card several times, before opening a small but cozy looking door. Looking up to watch a little diridgable marked with B-28 on it's underside, putter inside in the little opening above the door.

"Watch your step!"

Called a voice, just as your foot fell down, down, down. You stumbled forward into a field of clouds? Dream clouds, the kind made of cotton fluff and marshmallow. And they softly changed hue from pink to purple to orange and back again.

"The room heard you were coming! Though I feel like this might be just a bit over the top--"

The voice called to you before pausing and repeating a little louder and enunciating a few specific words. "It MIGHT be just a BIT OVER THE TOP?"

You feel your hands tighten nervously as the clouds slowly but surely disapate out of the room.

"There!" A pair of hands dust themselves together as one Curio Flemming trots out of the dispersing cotton candy clouds. Four legs of a graceful deer with a neat shawl drapped over his back. With a smart button up shirt and his curly hair a soft cloud of sable coils that frame a friendly smiling face.

"Sorry again about that!" Their dark eyes crinkling with a laugh just below the surface. "I have one of the more active rooms in this department, and it had wanted to make sure you were comfortable." Their fingers grasping yours to briefly shake your hand. faun ears tilting upwards before they trot back to their desk sitting down to gather up a pencil and paper.

"So," They look at their notes as they address your name, "Telll me a little about this anxious magic? How long has this been going on?"

You take a deep breathe, with the clouds gone you now find yourself standing in a cozy room with a desk that housed many arranged papers and files. A squat comfortable looking arm chair facing Curio's desk. You settle into the chair across the desk, though your eyes adverting downwards as you fidgit with your hands.

"As long as I can remember,"

There is a brief pause in the air before you start again.

"It's. . . usually just silly things that happen when I am in a crowd or when I get too nervous. My magic will teleport me home, or turn me invisible, create sudden gusts of winds, or even freeze time for a short period. Things like that. . ."

You can hear writing from the other side of the desk and you shuffle in your chair.

"I think the worst thing I think it's e-ever done really, was the one time it made a sound void around m-me-- in the middle of a busy coffee shop. P-people started panicking be-because they thought they went deaf or lost their voice--" You look up with round eyes as Curio laughs.

"I-it was aweful!" You stammer, feeling a familiar prickle on the back of your neck, "I h-hate having a-anxious magic, the teleportation, the w-wind vortexes-"

"Calm-- calm down, I wasn't laughing at you, honest!" They smile softly, "Trust me, I understand what it's like living with anxiety," he gestures to himself. "I am after all, half deer, and they are always on high alert, quick to run on a moment's notice. I don't think you should hate this magical quirk of yours. It's not trying to hurt you or upset you, far from it, essentially, I think all it's doing is trying to protect you."

You stop and stare at him blankly, trying to process the words. "It's. . . what?"

Curio smiles sadly and nods, "That's what it's doing. When you have that anxiety, that fear, in this case, all those people and the noise in the coffee shop for example. Your magic is quick to react and try to stop the root of what is making you uncomfortable. It's not a bad thing, is it frusterating? Of course! But it's trying to protect you from feeling too overloaded."

You stare at Curio, warmth rising to your cheeks as you bob your head. "I see. . . do you. . . think that's why it summoned a demon?"

The pencil in Curio's hand stops moving and he looks up at you. "A. . . demon?"

You chew your lip and stare at his paper, nodding your head. "Th-that's why I wanted to ask for your help. I. . . I don't know how I did it, and I ah. . . d-don't know how to send them back."

"And where. . . is this demon?"

"A-at my house. It won't leave."

"Oh. . ."

Your arms shrug up feeling guilty,

"That's absolutely fascinating!" Curio enthused, "I have never heard of anxious magic doing that! I'll go grab my coat!"

You stand in shock as you watch an excited cervitaur rustle into a light jacket.

"And no summoning circle? No runes?"

"N-not that I? Know. . . of?" You shake your head in bewilderment before you catch a glimpse of hind legs bouncing out the door.

"H-Hey w-wait for me?? Y-you don't know where I live!!" And with that, you hurry after.

[filmflowersbangtan]

Glitch | pt. 1

An abnormality in science creates your “perfect man.” 

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, parental issues 

word count: 4,150

a/n: thanks to @jiminvbias​ @hyyh-baeptae​ and last but especially not least @namjinbooty9298​ for all the love and support. You guys keep me motivated! Much love and many kisses to you all! I hope everyone enjoys this, and feel free to give me feedback. Thank you!

“What are you thinking about doing for your thesis paper?” Namjoon said to you from across the table. Like usual, books and pens and notebooks were scattered about in front of him. “There’s a method to the mess,” he said to you once when you asked him why he had to take up so much room. He got distracted easily like a cat, so the only way to keep himself focused on his studies was to surround himself with them.

You were sitting across from him, shopping online for a pair of Givenchy heels. “Um… I’m thinking about doing my paper on photosynthesis and why it’s important,” you said, more interested in those grossly expensive block-heeled mink and leather heels than biology.

“There is no way in hell that you’re going to write an entire paper on photosynthesis. In graduate school.” Namjoon didn’t sound too convinced. You could tell from his voice that he was making that face that meant he was judging you. The one where he squinted his eyes and pressed his lips together.

You glanced up at him from over your laptop. “What?”

He snatched your laptop, scattering some of his notes in a flurry. “These are the ugliest fucking shoes that I have ever seen in my life. You’re wasting time on looking at these rather than working on your paper that’s due in two months.”

You sighed dramatically. “Yeah, two months. Shopping for shoes for like, two seconds, won’t hurt.”

Namjoon slid your laptop back over to you. “It will hurt. Because, knowing you, you’ll forget all about it until the night before it’s due. And no one but maybe Jesus himself can write a coherent twenty-page paper complete with research and graphs and charts and references the night before without dying.”

You closed your eyes and rubbed at your temples. “Oh, God, Namjoon. You’re such a buzzkill. I just want to buy some fucking shoes.”

He slightly raised his hands in a fragile surrender. “I’m just trying to be a good friend here.”

Because of the unnecessary stress that your friend just placed upon you by talking about the inevitable thesis statement, you went ahead and bought the shoes to placate yourself. If you were going to fail out of graduate school, at least you were going to do it in style, goddamn it.

-

People in graduate school were boring. People in biology graduate school were even more dull. Nobody here partied anymore. But the guys at the engineering school across the town were pretty fun.

You met a guy named Taehyung there who had pretty eyes and even prettier hands that he put to good use when the both of you stumbled into an empty bedroom. You ditched the place with him after he gave you a world-trembling orgasm to get drunk at a frat house that was also having a party (who knew engineering schools had fraternities?). Everything after that was a beautiful blur of drunken sex.

The very next day, you regretted the entire night.

Something on the floor was buzzing insistently. The sunlight through the blinds was too bright. You squinted one eye open. The room you were in was unfamiliar. There was a strange contraption on a desk that looked like a mini rollercoaster that was in the process of being built beside a MacBook with too many stickers around the apple. The vintage Star Wars posters plastered all over the walls made you think that you had stumbled into nerd hell.

The object was still vibrating, but you were too tired to reach over to where it was on the floor to turn it off.

“Oh my God,” a voice deep and husky enough to make your knees weak if you weren’t so hungover said. “Shut that damn thing off.”

You fought through the heaviness in your head and bit back a snarky remark to sit up and grab the object. It was your phone, surprisingly unscathed. Usually when you woke up in unfamiliar rooms, it meant that your night was wild enough to shatter a perfectly good phone. But one look at the screen and you realized that you fucked up royally, and not in a way that meant you had to make another stop at Best Buy. Ten missed calls and five texts from Namjoon, seven missed alarms for your afternoon class, and three missed calls from your dad.

You held the breath in your lungs as you read Namjoon’s texts.

Namjoon [12:10 PM] ummmmmm where the hell are you???

Namjoon [12:13 PM] you know that you can’t miss class. you know what your dad will do!!!

Namjoon [12:22 PM] i’m risknig my life hre to text you durig lecture… whre the fuk are you!!!

Namjoon [12:25 PM] you rlly can’t miss class. you know professor lee and your dad are best buds

Namjoon [12:31 PM] fuk it i’m done tryig to help you

You ran a hand over your face. “I’m so dead,” you groaned.

The person behind you grunted as he stretched his arms and legs. “Good morning to you, too.”

You turned and remembered the handsome face but couldn’t place a name with it. “Um… What’s your name again?”

The guy blinked a few times and scrunched his eyebrows together. “I’m Taehyung. Don’t you remember? We had sex like five times last night.”

You sighed and got up to fetch your clothes. “The fact that you remember last night, and I don’t is not a good look on your part, my dude.” You tugged your jeans up your legs and hopped as you tucked on your heels. For some reason you couldn’t find your shirt.

Taehyung got up to pull on his clothes, too. “I thought we really had something going… You said that you liked my rollercoaster.”

Your shirt was still nowhere to be found, so you rummaged through the nearest clothes drawer and slipped on the first top that you could find. “Please. I like everything when I’m drunk.” You touched up your hair and makeup as much as you could in the mirror that hung on the back of the door. Thank God you didn’t lose your purse last night.

Taehyung was standing a few feet behind you, looking as if you just kicked his dog. You felt a little bad that you were treating him this way, but one glance at the Star Wars posters let you know that Taehyung was a guy that didn’t get a lot of one-night stands, which meant he was probably going to ask for your number and most likely wanted to keep in touch. You had probably said a few things to him that made him feel special, and making boys feel special will make them cling to you. So even though you did remember the sex (which was amazing by the way. The boy had a tongue like a snake), you pretended like you didn’t. Attachment wasn’t sexy.

You opened the door and turned to him one last time. “Well, it was nice knowing you. Kind of. See ya. Oh, and I’m keeping the shirt.”

As soon as you were in the hallway with the door closed behind you, all the strength in your body melted. You sagged against the door and shut your eyes, trying to calm the dizziness in your head. Whether it was from the onslaught of texts and missed calls, or if it was from the hangover, you didn’t know.

You wanted to scream. Your dad was going to kill you. Namjoon was going to nag your ear off for putting yourself in a situation to make your dad want to kill you. And you left a beautiful boy alone in his room because you were afraid of him liking you. Congratulations, Y/N. You’re a complete fuck up.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and your heart leapt into your throat. “Oh, shit,” you whispered to yourself when you saw your dad’s face pop up along with his caller ID. With trembling hands, you slid the green button across the screen and lifted the device up to your ear.

“Hi, Daddy!” you said in a too sweet tone that you used to use when asking him for money when you were in high school. “How’s work going?”

Your father was not amused. “Y/N,” he said. It was kind of sad that you heard his “I’m very disappointed in you” tone more than you heard him pleased with you. The only time you heard his happy voice was whenever you did something biology related. He actually smiled at you the day that you got accepted to that stupid graduate school.

“Where are you?” he said stiffly. “Professor Lee told me that you missed class again. What did I say the last time that you missed class?”

You were pushing out of the dorm building and into the afternoon that was bright enough to burn your eyes out of the sockets. “You said that if I were to miss class again, I would have to move back home and work at your lab to stay out of trouble,” you grumbled. There was no forgetting those words. You loved your apartment, and you hated being home. You hated that you would have to be under the eye of your father like you were fifteen again.

“Exactly. And what did you do today?” You hated his tone. Like he was scolding a five-year-old for drawing on the walls.

You fished your sunglasses out of your purse and pushed them on. “I missed class,” you mumbled.

“Yes, you did. Now, where are you?”

-

You waited for your dad on a steel bench outside of the engineering school’s library. You were still in last night’s jeans that probably burned a hole into your savings and still wearing those mink Givenchy heels that you bought online for a little over a grand, but you felt like you were waiting to be picked up with the day’s trash.

Your dad’s car pulled up in front of you, the black paint gleaming in the sun like a panther’s ebony coat. He rolled down the passenger side window, extremely serious in his pressed dress shirt and dark sunglasses. It bothered you that you saw your own face in his.

You got in the car without a word and yanked on the seatbelt.

“What are you wearing?” he said.

You glanced down at your shirt. Darth Vader’s head was positioned in the center with the words STAR WARS hovering above it. It was made to look like a vintage 80’s print, but to you it was simply tacky. “Of course,” you muttered to yourself. As if your father couldn’t judge you any more than he already was.

“You smell like alcohol and must,” your father said as he drove.

You ignored him, gazing out of the window at the buildings that passed by. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. Can we stop at McDonald’s or something?”

He was good at ignoring the things that you said, too. “Y/N, I just don’t understand why you still act like this. You’re twenty-five years old and you’re brilliant at math and science. You could excel in your studies if you actually tried.”

What if I don’t like biology, you wanted to say. What if I hate science? But those words would only fall on deaf ears. Your father was an award-winning biologist, gaining world recognition for his achievements in cell cloning. This caused you a lot of stress growing up. Everyone expected you to be as smart or as good at math and science as him like intelligence was a gene. Too bad you were actually good at the shit, making everybody believe that maybe good brains did run in the family. Too bad you secretly hated biology.

Namjoon was at your apartment when you arrived. Your dad waited in the car as Namjoon helped you stuff some your clothes into various suitcases.

“You’re a really good friend, you know that, right?” you said to Namjoon as he pulled some more of your clothes from your closet.

Namjoon laughed a little through his nose. “I would say the same to you, but you really need to get your shit together.”

You scoffed playfully and shoved his shoulder, and he stumbled dramatically. But the light-hearted atmosphere was dampened almost immediately. You sat down at the end of your bed with your shoulders slumped. “I really do need to get my shit together,” you said, staring down at the lines in your palms.

Namjoon stopped flipping through the clothes in your closet and sunk down on the mattress beside you. He wrapped an arm around you, and you rested your head against his shoulder. “I know that you hate this biology shit. You don’t have to tell me. I’ve seen all those beautiful drawings in your sketchbook. I’ve noticed how you pay more attention to fashion than you do about cells and molecules. I know that your dad is a pain in the ass and that you’re doing all of this for him. But you’ve got to tell him that you don’t want this. It’s the only way for you to be happy.”

Something sticky and warm rolled down your face. You swiped at your cheek and your hand came away moist. Oh Jesus. You were crying. “Goddamn it, Namjoon. Leave it up to you to make a girl cry.”

“I usually only make girls in Star Wars shirts cry on Saturday nights,” he said.

You choked out a laugh through the tears, wiping harshly at more that trickled down your face. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

He smiled and rubbed your arm with affection. “I don’t know. At least it made you laugh, though.”

What did you do in your past life to deserve him? Because in this life, you hadn’t done shit.

Outside, your father honked his horn once. You tilted your head back and groaned at the ceiling.

-

“I’ll take care of your apartment. Don’t worry,” Namjoon said as he loaded your last suitcase into the trunk.

“That means I won’t have an apartment to come home to because you’ve burned it down,” you said.

Namjoon smiled at you and you let him engulf you in a hug. “Stay strong, beautiful. Only you can be the one to tell him what you really want,” he whispered in your ear.

Your old room was the same as you had first left it when you were eighteen. A bed with an abundance of stuffed animals and down pillows. An organized desk with a cup of pens and sticky notes and a letter stacking tray. A bookshelf full of physics, chemistry, and biology books. Print-out calendars marked up with different colored pens. A shelf of trophies from robotics competitions, spelling bees, and science fairs. The only thing that was different was that the succulents were missing. Your dad must’ve tossed them out because there wasn’t anyone that would take care of them after you’d gone.

God, you hated this place.

“Make sure you get yourself some breakfast before we head out to the lab. We’ll be there all day,” your dad said as he passed your open door.

You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling and exhaled deeply from your nose. Your head was still pounding from the hangover, and your father wasn’t making it go any quicker.

You ate breakfast in your room while looking through some of the old sketchbooks that you kept in a shoebox under your bed. When you were in high school, you used to draw the same person over and over again. He was your “perfect man” (that was back when you thought such a thing existed, when you were young and naïve). Tall, well-dressed, and handsome with silky hair and big, brown eyes. A breathtaking smile with a barely visible dimple in his left cheek. You wondered what this guy looked like, what he smelled like. What was his favorite color? What kind of music did he like to listen to? Back then, the young, naïve you believed that if you thought about this guy really hard, he would come and save you from those stupid kids who thought that you were nothing more than a science geek with a rich dad and from that rich dad that thought you were his biology prodigy.

This perfect man understood you. He didn’t judge you or think that you were too nerdy to hang out with him.

Now, you laughed as you flipped through dozens and dozens of drawings of this one man. You drew him in several different styles of clothes. Maybe this was where your love for fashion began. You took one of the sketchbooks with you to the lab to give you some internal strength.

-

Your father and his team were working on some “top secret” cell cloning project. You didn’t know much about the project at large, but you did little tasks here and there for the team. Fetching coffee and copies, double checking to see if certain doors were locked, looking at cells in microscopes and writing down observations when one of the scientists were too preoccupied with something more important.

As you were getting coffee for the team that you were working with for the day, the fluorescent lights above flickered for a full minute before ticking to normal.

“We’re still trying to figure out how to stop that from happening,” a lab technician said when you asked her about it while giving her the coffee that she asked for. “It’s the energy from the system that we’re using for the project. We’re either using too much or not enough. So far all the tests have failed.”

That was the most that anyone had told you about this project that they called, “Project Aureus.”

During your lunch breaks, you found a place to hide in. It was one of the rooms that had to be locked twenty-four seven. Technically, you weren’t allowed in here, but you didn’t care. You were the only one who checked the doors to see if they were locked, so no one would figure out. The room was small and bare. There was absolutely no furniture and it was completely white. The plainness of it calmed you sometimes. It helped with the stress that your father and his colleagues were pressing onto your shoulders throughout the days.

You sat in here and ate a sandwich as you flipped through your sketchbook again, looking into the face of your once perfect man. He never did come to save you from high school. And now that you were stuck under the thumb of your tyrant of a father, seeing those drawings again only pissed you off.

No one was going to save you. No one was going to carry you out of the black hole that you threw yourself into. Namjoon was your friend, but he had his own life and career that he had to think about. You didn’t want to get in the way of that. Namjoon loved the hell out of biology, so there was no way that he could understand how much you hated it. How much you needed to escape from it.

A bead of moisture fell onto the paper, pressing a dark dent into it. You wiped at your eyes to discover that you were crying again and that pissed you off even more. Meanwhile, your perfect man’s stupid face looked up at you with his stupid eyes and stupid hair. You tore out all the pages and rushed out of the tiny room, locking the door behind you.

“Hey! What were you doing in there?” a scientist that happened to be walking down the barren hall at that very moment said. He had a clipboard tucked under his arm. You forgot that sometimes they made rounds to this side of the facility. “That room is used specifically for Project Aureus’ purposes. Don’t go in there again.” He spoke in a tone that resembled your father’s which only angered you even more.

You nodded and rushed off, your hands tight in fists at your sides.

-

The very next day, as you were returning to the lab from the longue with both your hands full with mugs of coffee, the lights flickered and buzzed like they usually did at this time of day. You were immune to it by now like everyone else in the building was. They were running tests again. But this time was different. The fluorescents completely shut off, resulting in the hallways being washed in the eerie red glow of the emergency lights.

You paused in your steps, your heart thrumming in your ears as doctors and scientists everywhere scurried about shouting things that you didn’t quite understand.

“It worked!” a man rushing pass you said with glee. “It actually worked!” You weren’t sure where he was going or what he was talking about, but you assumed that the current project was a success.

Curious, you headed back to the lab room to give the doctors their coffee. This was the only area that still had power due to its back-up generator because of its “high importance” (you didn’t know why this room was important, that was just what you were told on your first day). It was uncannily silent as everyone watched a set of monitors displaying whatever was going on. Their faces were a mix of confusion and wonder. It was so quiet, and everybody was so still that the sound of your footsteps rang eerily throughout the room. There were more people in here than normal, a majority of them standing to get a good look at the screens.

“Here’s your coffee,” you said to Dr. Greene, bending down to place the mug on her desk. You felt like you had to whisper because it was so silent.

Dr. Greene didn’t acknowledge your presence, which was usual unless she was barking her coffee order at you. “We made an entire human?” she whispered, her fingers in front of her mouth in awe. You knew that she wasn’t talking to you, so you moved on to find Dr. Kim’s desk through the bodies all standing around in their starched white coats.

“But those papers? Where did they come from?” another doctor responded.

“Were those papers the answer to our problem all along?”

“But that’s the problem. We weren’t trying to create a person. We were just trying to clone a solid subject without it coming out deformed.”

As everyone chimed in with their observations, the room began to buzz with conversation.

Your curiosity got the better of you. You knew that you weren’t supposed to know anything about the project, and you knew that the doctors sent you out of the room for coffee at the same time each day so that you wouldn’t see whatever was going to be displayed on the monitors in the front of the room, but what they were saying was so strange that you had to look.

You slowly pushed through the congregation of doctors and scientists, pretending to look for the owner of the coffee in your hand until you reached the front of the room where the two flat-screen sized monitors hung up on the wall.

As soon as you got a look at the screen, the cup of coffee in your hand slipped, crashing to the floor. The scorching liquid bit at your exposed ankles when it splashed, but that didn’t faze you. A few people around you jumped back, muttering insults at you, but you barely heard them.

The two monitors displayed an identical set of rooms that both looked exactly like the one that you ate your lunch in the day before. One still had the pages that you ripped from your sketchbook scattered across the floor.

And in the other –

The man in the room was sitting on the floor, his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms around his knees. He was completely naked, his muscles taut and toned. The room was drowning with red because of the emergency lights, but despite that, you saw the gleam in his eyes when he looked up at the camera in the corner. You knew that he wasn’t, but it felt like he was gazing straight at you.

Those were the eyes that you knew better than your own. Big and brown and doe-like. You’d been drawing them all throughout high school, and never in your life would you be able to forget the way that they looked.

“She has to get out of here! This is confidential!” Bodies made a path for your father, the man that this very facility was name after. He snatched your upper arm, but despite him dragging you away, you kept your eyes on the man on the screen.

This couldn’t be. There was no way that you were seeing this correctly.

Your perfect man was real?

another a/n: Okay, okay. I know Jungkook doesn’t show until the end, but this is just the set up chapter. I promise that there will be lots more Jungkook in the future!

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Um, hi. I love your writing and I don't mean to be a bother but a long while back I requested a Bruce Wayne x reader and I was wondering if you've already written and posted it but I missed it, or if you're still working on it? Thx love

Was it set durig BvS, and she's Clark's sister and dating Bruce and she's trying to stop them from fighting? If so, it will be up tomorrow. ;)If not, let me check again because maybe I'm the one that missed it. Or you can send it again.I'm sorry, I've been busy.

[witchychanel]

Eternals

Preferences

Phone Names

[witchychanel]

I really wish people do their hw when writing Druig fics when talking about the genocide of Tenochtitlan. Because it did not take place in the Amazon.

It took place in Mexico.

Why Zoe said Amazon I will never know but it was in Mexico.

Which is some things I'm gonna be touching on in some Druig fics, when I do write for Latina readers.

As much as I love Druig....making them live in harmony...girl...naurr