#evelyn... ev please

[cute-chamomile]

I know I've written a lot of poetry around names in my time but the concept is genuinely just so interesting to me

[hysteria-things]

PLEASE WRITE LIKE A LITTLE BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT MATT GRABBING READER'S FACE LIKE HOW HE DID WITH CHRIS

thank you😭

TEMPTATION (part two)

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you fight to not fall for matt’s charm for the second time the same day, but the tension is too strong that you can’t resist.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (female receiving), fingering, praising/degradation, p in v (pull out method), stomach bulge

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,563

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i want to get through my requests and sprinkle them into fics so if you see something that seems like it was requested a while ago that’s why LOL

(dilf!matt au originally by @luvs4matt)

clinking of dishes and water running is a good distraction. the sudsy soap coating your hand on the sponge as you wash a plate feels warm on your skin. you’re focusing as hard as you can on your senses, matt standing just a few feet away while you’re helping him clean up after dinner.

he brought evelyn to bed a few minutes ago, and now you can feel him staring into your back. your heart pounds in your chest, thinking about what occurred only this afternoon in this same kitchen. nobody made a peep about it after it happened, but that’s all you’ve been thinking about all day—his cock moving past your lips so naturally, his grunts and groans intensifying the closer he got, his praises, the way he made you look up at him with the soft grip of his hands on your cheeks…

you bite your lip and clench your thighs at the thought, but you shake it out of your head the second it arrives.

you can’t do that again. that was a mistake.

when you dry the last dish and place it into the cabinet above, you jump when you notice matt standing directly in front of you when you turn around. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckles. “i want to thank you for your help today. you know, with ev and all.”

“you’re welcome.” you say quickly, taking a long exhale. “it’s my job.”

his arms cage you in against the counter, each one planted on the edge of it by your sides. he groans, leaning into where his lips ghost yours, and your chest heaves even faster. he takes his knee and parts your legs with it, pressing firm against your covered mound. he starts kissing down your neck, biting at the skin in the process. not to leave marks, but to show you how desperate he is for you as much as you are for him. “tell me to stop.” he mumbles against your jaw, bringing his face up to meet yours again.

your eyes dart over his features, shaking from how turned on you get from such little contact. “i can’t.” you whisper, heart beating rapidly.

“say it.” he murmurs, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you gasp slightly. “say that you want me to stop.”

“no,” you say shakily. he’s so fucking mesmerizing that it annoys you, but you’re aching for his touch, his body, him. it’s only been a month of nannying for him, but goddamn do you need it bad.

matt pulls back, frustratingly running a hand through his hair. you let out a sigh, finally being able to breathe when you think he’s going to walk away, but no. he grabs your hips and lifts you roughly onto the counter, caging you in once again by pulling you towards him with a hand possessively wrapped around your waist. “you’re fucking killing me.” he pants, moving to raise your arms above your head to remove your shirt and unclip your bra. he smirks when you help him get off your leggings, throwing them aside. you wince when the elastic of your panties snaps against your flesh when he rips them off.

“fuck.” he breathes, scanning your body over and over again. “fuck.”

your nipples are hard peaks, breasts moving with each breath you take. there’s a sticky mess on your thighs, your dripping hole aching for his cock. he hurries to get his shirt and pants off, eyes still locked on your flushed body.

“look at her,” he says, thumbs spreading your soaking folds. his eyes look frantic and hungry, pupils dilated almost fully as he admires your pussy. he runs a finger up the slit, and you shiver. “she’s practically begging for me.”

the ticking of the wall clock seems to become louder when you watch him kneel, hot breath against your sensitive heat. he flicks his tongue once… twice… three times over your clit, and you jolt with each lick. he runs a hand over your thigh, squeezing the inside before he starts to suck at your bud, also soaking one of his fingers with your juices before inserting it. a hitched gasp is caught in your lungs, matt putting in his middle finger next.

his eyes roll back, tasting you and fucking you with his fingers at the same time. you whine, gripping tight onto his hair for stability. he groans, adding a third, scissoring the digits nuzzled into your cunt. arching your back, you moan from how full you feel already. you’ve never been fingered with more than two, but this—

you snap out of it when he goes in with four, and you’re so wet that they move in and out quite easily. he hums approvingly, the vibration letting another moan slip out of you. the erotic sounds of his tongue and squelching from his fingers make your toes curl. you can feel him stretch you out at the way he moves his digits, and you clench around them.

keeping your grasp on his head, your low moans turn into whines. he’s eating you out like a starved man as if you’re his last meal. it seems that from now on whenever matt is hungry, he’ll just go for your pussy. your eyes flutter, mouth agape when your hands reach to your tits and clutch hard, twirling your nipples.

he pulls his mouth away from your swollen clit, licking his lips to get an extra taste. his knuckles plunge harder, curling his fingers to hit that spot right where you want it. you start to twitch and quiver, the knot in your stomach snapping the second it appears. he slides out the digits from your still-tight hole.

you’re left a trembling mess, settling down from your orgasm when he stands back up. he wants to kiss you so you can taste yourself, but he can’t. sex is one thing, but kissing you is another. it’s more dangerous because if he does, he won’t ever turn back from wanting you.

instead, he forces his fingers into your mouth, and you lick them clean with a satisfied hum. “good girl…”

then, his palms hold the creases of your knees, lifting and spreading your legs open. his dick throbs, wrapping his hand around the base and pumping himself a couple of times to get him harder than he already is. looking at your naked body while he does so makes him grunt, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. he nudges the head between your folds, coating it before slowly pushing into you.

“come on.” he grunts in concentration, watching your face contort in pleasure when he pushes in inch by delicious inch. “good girl, stretching out for me.”

you let out a small yelp when he’s balls deep, slamming your eyes shut from the pleasurable pain by accommodating his size. “shh, shh.” he soothes you, pecking your shoulder. he starts thrusting slowly, but gradually gets faster when he feels you split open for him. “there you go.” he sighs contently, spreading your legs even wider to get deeper. “what an obedient slut, taking my cock.”

your hold onto the counter for dear life, moans getting more high-pitched until you slap your hand over your mouth. evelyn is sleeping just upstairs, and you have to remind yourself of that. your vision is blurry from the tears forming in your lids, eyes rolling back so far that only the whites show.

strings of cum connect to his thighs and your cunt, the sight having matt drilling into you faster to the point where his tip reaches your cervix. you feel the bulge in your belly when he bottoms out, and that alone has you clamp down on his dick harder like a vice. he curses under his breath when he sees himself peeking out of your abdomen. “such an innocent whore.” he coos, and you moan from the degrade, it being muffled by your palm. “you like this dick?”

removing your hand, you babble some ‘fucks’ and ‘oh gods’ when you clench repeatedly. you start to spasm again, the same hot feeling building up like it did before. you’re not a screamer by any means, but your pants and whimpers alone have matt’s thrusts get sloppier. he notices your expressions and smirks.

“look at me.” he snarls, hips snapping against your ass and grabbing your face with so much force that your cheeks squish. your eyes flutter to look at him, half-crossed. he smiles menacingly at your dumbed out face before speaking. “i want you to look at me when you cum. i want you to look at who’s fucking you this good.”

moaning in response, some spit coats the corners of your mouth. he can tell you’re close by your incoherent voice and squirming, but he’s also not far behind either. you throw your head back, biting your lip to lessen your filthy sounds when you gush around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. he pulls out with a wet pop and groans, balls tightening as he spurts hot cum all over your stomach.

it takes a load of silence to get your breathing back to normal and your brain less hazy, tilting your head when you realize something peculiar painted with his semen: the letter ‘M.’

he must be so damn proud of himself.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mattgirl4lyfe @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[radicalrascals]

The usual air of determination surrounding Detective Evelyn Adeke was softened by a smile as she tried to convince Sami to go out for the evening. She had been looking forward to this outing for weeks, ever since she had promised to take xem to that charming little restaurant she had discovered. Now that her case was closed and she found herself with a more reasonable amount of free time at her hands, Eve had decided that this was the perfect time. Only Sami didn't seem to agree.

"Come on, you deserve a break," she urged gently, her voice brimming with warmth and persistence. But as she coaxed and cajoled, Evelyn began to sense a hesitation in Sami's demeanor, an invisible weight keeping xem anchored to the spot.

The detective’s brow furrowed as the realisation hit her. The restaurant wasn't the problem. Neither was she. Sami didn’t want to leave the house. The usually astute detective mentally kicked herself for not noticing sooner.

With the same patience she used in the trickiest of cases, Evelyn sat beside Sami, her eyes kind but probing. She didn’t need words to know that something was wrong. Whatever it was, she would unearth it. But gently. Sami’s comfort was her priority, but she needed to understand what shadow had settled over xem, preventing xem from stepping into the world beyond the door.

"Can you help me understand what's really keeping you from wanting to go out, Sami?"

open to all !! plot: Sami lying about being busy so they don't have to leave the house because they're afraid to, your muse trying to convince them to go out with them for the evening/afternoon/whatever

"I'm sorry, I, uhhh... I can't."

The answer is about as evasive as Sami can get, trying not to have to elaborate too much. He wrinkles his nose a little, avoiding the others gaze--something he tended to do when he was lying. He'd never been a very good liar.

"Nope. Can't go out today, got too much to do. Uhhh..." Xe scratches the back of xyr neck, staring at the ground in front of the other, unblinking. "Need to clean up a bit round here, get an article put together I've been putting off for a while now. Y'know...boring stuff." Xe swallows, shaking xyr head as xe ducks it low so they can't see the embarrassed flush of xyr cheeks.

"Busy..."

[nyoomfruits]

short little kid fic drabble for @mecachrome with single dad!lando and engineer!oscar, love you, hope you enjoy!!!!!

“Hey,” Lando says, when he wanders over to where Oscar’s sitting in front of the screens in the back of the garage. FP2 is officially over now, and he’s finished discussing some last minute set up changes with his mechanics, so he’s free to go now. His race suit has long been unzipped, and is dangling around it waist as he leans over Oscar’s shoulder. “How did it go?”

Evelyn, who is perched on Oscar’s lap and had been staring at the screens intently, perks up and turns around. “Dad! Oscar says you were the fastest, like woosh,” she points her fingers forward, determined expression on her face.

“Did he?” Lando says, making eye contact with Oscar over Evelyn’s head. Oscar smiles innocently at him. Lando had only gotten as high as P3.

“Yeah!” Evelyn continues enthusiastically. “He’s been showing me the telletries.”

Lando raises his eyebrow at Oscar. Oscar shrugs. “She asked,” he says.

Lando eyes him a little skeptically. “My five year old asked you to show her my telemetries,” he states.

Oscar shrugs. “Well technically she asked if you were the fastest ever, and so then obviously I had to prove her you were in fact, the fastest ever.”

“Obviously,” Lando says, trying not to let the smile on his face turn too fond. He had been very nervous, when he first started brining Evelyn to races, last year. But the team had taken to her like a charm, had taken her in as one of their own, and while there was a nanny to make sure she never got in the way of anyone’s work, none of the team minded entertaining her for short bits at a time.

Especially Oscar, the youngest performance engineer in McLaren’s history, always made sure to take time to explain things to Evelyn, whether it was aerodynamics, brake balance, or in this case, telemetry.

“Alright Eve,” Lando says, gesturing to Evelyn. “Time to say goodbye to Oscar, we’re going to get you those chicken nuggets I promised you, yeah?”

Evelyn’s face lights up, but then falls immediately when she glances at Oscar. “But…” She says, frowning. “I want… Can Oscar come?” She asks, face suddenly turning excited again as she turns back to Lando. “Yes! He was going to tell me more about the telletries, he can totally do that over dinner! Dad, please.”

She’s pulling the patented Norris Pleading Eyes, the ones people have told Lando time and time are impossible to say no to. He thought they were exaggerating, until he became a victim of them himself.

But he’s strong. He’s been here before. He can do this. “I don’t know, bug,” he says, ruffling her hair. “I’m sure Oscar has plans.”

Evelyn turns back to Oscar, eyes in full force, adding in a bonus pouty lip. “I’m free,” Oscar says, immediately, because the man has no fucking backbone, clearly.

And god. The thing is, the thing Lando’s never really told anyone is that Oscar is kind of… Cute. In his own soft, nerdy way. Lando doesn’t like to dwell on it much ecuase it’s not like he’s ever going anywhere with it, not when he has Evelyn and racing and not much time for anything else, but.

But sometimes, in these little unguarded moments, he indulges himself, daydreams about a life together. A life with Oscar. Dreams about sleepy early morning and quiet late nights and all of the joy and laughter in between.

Except that way madness lies. So he tucks it away in a box called ‘Have Yout Lost Your Mind Not In A Million Years’ and moves on.

But now, with the full force of Evelyn’s Norris Pleading Eyes back on him, Oscar’s own nervous, expectant, hesitant expression behind her, he can’t help but fold, nudge the box open just a tiny little bit.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, admits defeat. “Sure. Why not.”

[luvzpagie]

DEAD TO ME!

series masterlist

may 15, 2019

“are you serious paige, you want to reschedule again?” your face was contoured with confusion and irritation, your girlfriend had been putting you off for a couple weeks now.

“i’m sorry baby, i just been busy with basketball and shit” paige sighs, leaning back into the gym wall behind her.

“but i’ve been planning this for so long” you cross your arms, you were beyond fed up with the excuses paige gave you.

“and plus you know i move in a week, i wanna spend as much time as you.” you whined.

paige looks down at her phone, smiling at whatever was the screen.

everyone had her attention but you, and it hurt. you were obviously the last thing on her mind, you just didn’t understand it.

“i’m so sick of being your last priority!” your voice slightly raised, catching the few people around you attention.

paige scratches at the her neck awkwardly, looking up from her phone. “can you not yell? people are staring” she talks in a low tone.

“the fuck? so me yelling is what you care about right now?” your voice cracking, as tears begin to well up in your eyes. you quickly pack up your things.

“y/n- baby please” paige grabs at ur hand trying to stop you.

“no i’m done with you, fuck you paige.” you spat at her, your voice filled with anger and hurt. you snatch you hand away from her storming out of the gymnasium.

leaving her there to soak in what just happened.

august 6 2020

it’s been a year since you broken up with paige. you almost forget her, enjoying your “new” life in cali. but the way things ended wonders in your head, you cringe at it.

“hellooo, earth to y/n”

you were quickly snapped out of your thoughts as your best friend evelyn called out for you, swatting her hand in your face.

“did you even hear what i said” she sassed while passing you a box of your belongings.

“yes ev.” you sigh.

“jeez, no need for the sass” you roll your eyes as you walk her past her to the elevator.

it dings as the doors, a few seconds past waiting for it to get you the level your dorm was on.

as you leave the elevator, you walk to your room.

“ev where’s the room keys?” you watch the girl pat herself down, searching for them.

“shit! i left downstairs!” she yelp, she quickly rushed down to get them.

you put the last bit of clothes away in the mini dresser, you fall back onto your bed sighing from exhaustion.

“finally”

“i’m so glad we getting to share a dorm!” ev clapped, you smiled, it was so long since you had seen her. you felt a sense of peace knowing you guys were together again.

the dorm goes quiet for a while, leaving you in your thoughts again.

“you hungry?” you squint your eyes at ev.

“how’d you know?” the curly head girl looks almost as if your dumb. “im your best friend duhh! i know everything”

“okay weirdo”

“cmon!” she said grabbing her keys off the desk.

august 8 2020

it’s been two days since you’ve moved in, it was the first meeting of your cheer team. you nervous yet excited, hoping to make good friends.

one problem— you were lost, completely unaware of this new place. you try to look around searching for where dance room was.

“where the hell is it” you mumble to yourself. you flatten out the clothes you were wearing, trying to make you look less pathetic.

“yo, are you supposed to over here?” a kinda raspy voice spoke, it sounded familiar yet you couldn’t make out who.

“i’m not even sure, i’m looking for the dance room” you chuckled. “you apart of the cheer team or somethin?” the unknown person said.

“yeah, do you know where that is-” your eyes widened as you turn around, heart dropping at the tall figure in front of you. you were stunned, no words could come out of your mouth.

you were not prepared to see her.

“y/n?”

[cevansbrat0007]

Cross-Country Christmas

Summary: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle...

Warnings: Light Angst, Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec), Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Full story! Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

2:00pm, Christmas Eve – Bell’s Creek, Texas

You couldn’t believe this was happening. After spending the last several days out of town with his family, Ari had been due to fly back to Bell’s Creek tonight so that the two of you could spend the holiday together. 

Your first Christmas as a couple. 

But that was before the surprise arrival of the severe winter storm that was currently sweeping through the Midwest, resulting in numerous canceled flights that had left thousands stranded across the country – including your handsome Bounty Hunter.

“Are they at least trying to get you on another flight, or are you just shit out of luck?” Putting the phone on speaker, you set it on the counter so that you can go back to rolling out more dough for your next pie.

“Well, the airline is being a little evasive.” Ari admits, blowing out a heavy breath. You can practically hear him raking an agitated hand through his chestnut locks. “But with this storm comin’ in, I’m gettin’ the sense that I’m most likely fucked until tomorrow. Maybe a little longer.” 

“This is exactly why you should’ve just stayed at your sister’s place.” You sniffle, blinking away tears as you wield your rolling pin with a touch more force than necessary. 

“Bird.” You can tell he’s doing his best to keep hold of his patience. 

“Oh, don’t “Bird” me.”  

“Bird.” This time your name is spoken with a slightly more authoritative note. It’s one that your body recognizes almost immediately. “Please don’t start with me, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

Too bad you weren’t neccessarily in the mood to obey today. 

“I’m just saying.” You continue, feeling more pissed at mother nature than anything else. “If you would’ve stayed with Evelyn and the kids at least you would’ve been able to be with your family on Christmas.” You toss the pin in the sink, wincing at the loud clatter it makes. “Now you’ll probably be stuck all alone, sleeping with a bunch of grumpy strangers at the flippin’ airport!”    

“That’s enough of the sass, baby.” Ari grunts. 

“It’s not sass if it’s the truth, Ari.” You hum, peering over at the apples you’ve got soaking in a bowl filled with 7-Up. 

“Sweetheart.” The soft rebuke rolls easily off his tongue. “I made a promise to spend Christmas Day with you – all wrapped up in you – and it’s one I intend to keep. Somehow.” He tacks on the last bit, which unknowingly brings a smile to your lips. 

“At this rate, you’re gonna be spending at least part of the holiday sleeping at your gate.” 

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath. 

“Want me to call the airline, sugar?” You ask as you go to rest your elbows on the counter so you can attempt to stretch the muscles in your lower back. “See if I can fight with ‘em enough so they at least put you up in a nice hotel so that you can get a good night’s rest?”  

“Nah, baby. They got me on standby and all that. I’m trying to get away from this shithole as soon as possible.” While you appreciated his determination, not even your big, bad Bounty Hunter could beat a snowstorm. 

“Hey! Omaha is not a shithole.” You chuckle, feeling a little defensive on behalf of a city you’d never visited. “I looked ‘em up. They’ve got some amazing museums.” You fish an apple slice out of the bowl and pop it into your mouth, chewing slowly. “I could have a good time in a place like that.” 

“Then get your pretty ass down here already and we’ll take every goddamned tour they’ve got.”

“Would if I could, Beast.” You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “I’d give anything to have you back in Bell’s Creek with me. I miss you taking up all the space in my tiny kitchen while you help yourself to my treats.” 

“I know. I promise I’ll get there. Just do me a favor and don’t start looking for my replacement just yet, okay?”

Your stomach dips when you realize he’s about to say goodbye. Which is fine because you also still had a ton of baking to do. And while you still weren’t quite sure if you were going to follow through with your original Christmas Day dinner plans, the last thing you wanted was for Ari to hear you crying at the unfairness of it all over the phone. 

It would only make him feel worse than he already did. 

“I’m not sure if anyone could ever replace you, not that I would ever try.” You tell him honestly. “I love you too much.”

“Damn right you do.” Comes your man’s rich, self-assured reply. “No better feeling in the world than being loved by my Duchess.” The warmth in his tone has butterflies stirring in your belly. 

They were the good kind of butterflies – the ones only Ari could cause.

“Go get some food and then call me in a bit.” You glance at the clock to check the time. At 2:06pm, there was no way that all hope was lost just yet. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll be an update.”

“Sure thing, baby. But the same goes for you. And don’t just snack – eat something real for me.” His bossy tone has your pulse kicking up. 

“You didn’t say please.” Your hand goes to cover your mouth as you tamp down a playful giggle.

“Mmm.” Ari groans as he moves to stretch out the kinks in his back. At least that was what you imagined he was doing. “Could you please do me a kindness and keep feeding those curves? I reckon I’m gonna need a little taste of something sweet when I walk through that front door. You with me?”

“I–I’m with you.” You stammer slightly, your mouth suddenly dry. Another effect that man seemed to have on you. “And I promise I’ll eat. Now hang up with me and go make some friends or something.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. But we’ve been over this, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only friend I need.” He quips rather smugly, his voice deepening ever so slightly. 

“Ari…” This had the makings of one of the older, more ridiculous arguments you’d had written all over it. 

“Because the way I see it, we’re best friends.” He continues almost as if you hadn’t spoken. “What with all of the sleepovers, and the hair braiding, and don’t get me started on how many times you’ve kept me up late so you could make sure I’ve had my fill of all that sweetness you’ve got between –”

“Okay, okay, okay!” You cut him off with a hiss, not missing the way he laughs. “Fine, we can be best friends as long as you work on getting your cute butt home to me before Christmas, alright?” 

“Yes, Duchess.” He finally replies after taking some time to collect himself. “You have my word I’ll keep working on that too. Just hold tight and I’ll be in touch with an update as soon as I have one.”

“Thank you, Beast. I’ll, uh, talk to you soon.”

“You can count on it.” Is all he says before the line goes dead, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. 

If Ari couldn’t make it back for Christmas, you would be devastated. Here you were, finally feeling safe in a secure and loving relationship, and now there was a strong possibility that you both might be forced to celebrate the holiday hundreds of miles apart from each other. 

“God, I can feel a headache coming on.” You mumble as your fingers go to massage your temples. 

8:30am, Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep. 

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well. 

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it came across a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.” 

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you should dump out the pot and brew a fresh one. 

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.” 

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess. 

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.  

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned. 

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.” 

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. Sometimes pushing his buttons a little managed to bring joy to your life. 

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm. 

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him. 

“It was a joke.” You amend when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you could even be bothered enough to cook today. 

Granted, the spiral cut ham you’d purchased from the butcher wouldn’t take very long in the oven. All you had to do now was throw together the glaze and it would be ready to do its thing. Plus, you’d already baked the pies yesterday, which meant that all that was left for the day was the cake.   

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.” 

You blow out a frustrated breath at the same time as you roll your eyes. Couldn’t he understand that you needed to make yourself laugh now and then in order to keep from crying? What was so wrong about that?

“I just said I was kidding. But if you wanna plead your case to someone, plead it to your new friend, Clint. See what he says.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them. 

Now you could feel your sadness slowly giving way to anger. Not at Ari or his newfound airport buddy, but at the situation as a whole. Which meant it was time to get off the phone before you said something you would later regret.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean, Duchess?”

“It’s – nothing.” You clamp your mouth shut and close the fridge, all the while trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Because if I had my way, I’d be there with you right now so we could have this stupid argument in person. You gotta know that.”

“I know.”  

“Do you, sweetness?”

“Yes, I do.” You respond a touch more firmly, scrubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I just hate this. I hate that it’s Christmas, and that you’re stuck all alone in Omaha and I’m here. But I don’t wanna fight with you, Beast. Not really. I just miss you.”

“So then let’s not fight.” His soft plea makes you sniffle. “I’m gonna go figure out how all this hotel bullshit works and get myself settled in. In the meantime, I want you to go take yourself a nice hot shower and just relax. I’ll call you later, okay?” 

For a moment, you allow the gentle warmth of his voice to wash over you. If you closed your eyes it was almost like you could pretend he was with you now. As if he was only seconds away from wrapping his brawny arms your waist and hauling you close. 

A tear rolls down your cheek as you imagine him burying his face in the crook of your neck, planting tiny kisses along your sensitive flesh until he had you giggling and squirming in his grasp. 

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname jolts you from your reverie, reminding you that it was time to say goodbye. At least for a little while. Good Lord, when had you become so needy for this man? It must’ve happened when you weren’t paying attention. 

“Goodbye, Ari.” You whisper before using your thumb to end the call.

Setting your phone on the counte do a quick spin, silently taking stock of everything you still had to do. If you started cooking relatively soon, you’d be able to occupy yourself until mid-afternoon. And then you would take a shower, and while you were busy doing that you would figure out your next move.

You’re sitting in a chair that isn’t yours with your arms propped up on a desk that doesn’t belong to you while your chin rests on your palm. Instead of spending the afternoon moping, you’d decided to bring a little holiday cheer to your local boys in blue in the form of a home cooked Christmas dinner.  

“Glad you like everything.” You say for what feels like the umpteenth time as you watch Bell’s Creek’s newest Deputy, Milton Foster, happily devour his second helping of macaroni and cheese. 

A few days ago, you would never have imagined that this would be how you would spend your Christmas Day. But, as they say, beggars couldn’t be choosers. So, it was either enjoy a front row seat to watch Milton wolf down his food at an almost alarming speed, or you could go home and maybe watch a Christmas special on TV. 

Alone. By yourself. Yeah, no thanks.  

“Yep.” Milton grunts once he finally comes up for air. He manages a sip of his drink before diving back in for a slice of glazed ham, stabbing it with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. “Looks like Levinson’s loss is my gain. Sorry buddy.” 

The words are spoken through a mouthful of food, but you understand them just fine. But just because Milton was arguably your favorite member of the town’s police force didn’t mean he was above pricking your temper every now and again. 

And today you were feeling mighty prickly. 

“Another crack like that and no pie for you.” That stops him cold, his sharp gray eyes immediately zeroing-in on the whole cherry pie you’d decided to bring along as dessert. 

“My apologies.” He beats a hasty retreat, using his fist to muffle a burp. “You know I was only kiddin’. I’m just happy I don’t have to subject myself to another year of Ma’s Christmas Tuna Casserole.” He shudders playfully. “I don’t think I coulda’ handled that one.”

“Yikes.” You mutter before pushing away from the desk to stretch your legs.     

“Yeah, it’s a hard-knock life.” He offers you a smile before wiping at his face with a napkin. “You sure you’re not hungry? I know the man’s not here, but I doubt he’d like the idea of me sittin’ here stuffin’ my face while you nurse a Diet Coke.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “He knows how I am. After tasting and smelling everything for hours on end, I’m not typically all that hungry.”

Which was one of the reasons your Beast liked to take it upon himself to help you work up an appetite – usually by stripping down and fucking you senseless. But Deputy Milton didn’t need to know all of that. 

“Hm. More for me I guess.” He hums, snagging another freshly buttered dinner roll.

“Yep.” The word is spoken like an airy sigh. “More for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go find the ladies room.” You rise to your feet and polish off your beverage before tossing it in the trash. “Be back in a jiff.” 

Forty Minutes Later…

The drive from the station back to your place feels surprisingly short. Loneliness weighs on you like a heavy blanket as you pull into the driveway and kill the engine. Groaning, you let your head collide against the steering wheel with a dull thunk.

As much as you didn’t want to go inside, you knew you couldn’t linger out here in your car forever. It was much too cold for an extended outdoor moping session. You’d probably catch frostbite halfway through. 

You briefly debate giving Ari a call. Other than exchanging a few text messages here and there, you hadn’t heard from him since this morning. The thought of him being upset with you on Christmas just didn’t sit right.

Maybe you’d call him later, after you’d put the food away and gotten ready for bed. Perhaps you’d even convince him to FaceTime with you so that you could enjoy teasing him while nibbling on a slice of the red velvet cake you’d baked especially for him. 

Yes, that was the new plan. But first, you had to get out of the car. Grabbing your purse, you duck out the driver’s side door and make a mad dash up your walkway. It’s so cold that your teeth are already chattering by the time you finally fish your keys out of your bag to let yourself in.

First, you had work to do. And then you would check-in with your man just to make sure that all was right with your world. 

8:30pm, Christmas Day – Bell’s Creek, Texas

Glass of wine in hand, you plop down on your living room couch with a defeated huff. You’d just tried Ari a few minutes ago while standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but your new lacy, red chemise and matching thong you’d purchased just for tonight.

Because you’d known how much Ari would like it. 

Except your Bounty Hunter hadn’t answered. Instead, it had gone straight to voicemail both times. Even if he was still pissed at you, you were confident that he would’ve answered. The only reason he would’ve ignored you was if–

Just then your phone dings, alerting you of a new text message. Reaching into the pocket of your robe, you’re elated when you see Ari’s name flash across the screen. But your hopes are soon dashed the moment you read the words written on the screen.

“Hey. Out with Clint. We’ll talk in a bit.” 

For a second you’re almost too stunned to speak. Were you really playing second fiddle to a man he’d just met? And all because you’d been a little snippy with him this morning? No. That couldn’t be right. 

Your bottom lip begins to tremble as you hastily type out the words: “I miss you.” And it only gets worse when he responds with a simple thumbs up emoji. That fucking bastard!

“Oh fuck you, Ari Levinson. And you too, Clint!” You snarl, snagging your wine and angrily gulping it down. “I’m sure you both will be very happy in Omaha. Where you can fucking stay. Forever!”

Now thoroughly pissed, you stomp your way back into the kitchen to fetch the bottle you’d left behind before returning determined to find something on television. So you could ignore the fact that your heart was breaking. 

On fucking Christmas Day.

After a few minutes, you settle on the live action version of A Muppet Christmas Carol. And then you grab a blanket and snuggle up. You’d deal with all of this later. Preferably after your second glass of wine. 

Hell, you might even need a third to convince yourself that murder was not the acceptable way to handle these kinds of problems in a relationship. Perhaps you’d simply pour a little sugar in the tank of his truck and see how that made you feel. 

Sure, you were probably being petty. But seeing as you’d been on an emotional roller coaster for the better part of two days, you were more than ready to hop the hell off this ride. Ari could stay put for all you cared. 

Anger aside, there was no denying the fact that you were absolutely crushed. With that in mind, you decide that you’re not answering whenever Ari finally found the time and inclination to call you back. If he was busy, then you would be too.

You finish off your vino before snuggling even deeper under your blanket. It was officially time for you to go to bed. And when you woke up tomorrow, hopefully all of this would be nothing more than a bad dream.  

And if it wasn’t, then you might find yourself asking the Lord for forgiveness after you let the air out of one of your man’s precious tires.

10:45pm, Christmas Day – Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Wake up, little Bird.” 

A faint brush of lips along your cheek has your eyes slowly fluttering open as your body fights through the last vestiges of sleep. You weren’t sure what had woken you up. Hell, you didn’t even know what time it was. 

You take a moment to stretch before sitting up to reach for your phone. Squinting, you scroll through the handful of last minute messages you’d received from a couple of friends during your nap. But unfortunately there’s still nothing from the one person you’d been hoping to hear from the most. 

Ari.

Your eyes stray to the TV and you’re confused when you see the black screen staring back at you. Now that was strange. Maybe you drank a little more wine than you thought. 

You curiously examine the still half-full bottle sitting on your coffee table with so much focus that you almost miss the notes of Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song filtering into your living room.

It was your favorite song, but the last time you checked, it had not been set to autoplay. Which meant someone was in your house.

“Hello?” You call as you rise to your feet, stepping over your blanket as it falls to the floor. Your hands come up to rub your arms in an effort to ward off the slight chill in the air. 

The warm scent of spiced cinnamon apples fills your nostrils and delights your senses as you round the corner and scurry into the kitchen. Your legs don’t stop moving until you’re standing mere feet away from the one man who seemed to rent space in your mind from sunup to sundown. 

Ari Levinson. 

He’s standing there in your kitchen wearing a pair of dark blue denim jeans and a slate gray thermal, eagerly helping himself to an impressive slice of red velvet cake. He smiles at you through a mouthful of dessert, and it’s impossible to miss the way his sparkling blue eyes darken once he gets a good look at the red silk robe that matched your holiday lingerie. 

“I don’t believe it. Y–you’re home.” You breathe as one of your hands flies to your chest, seeking to calm your increasingly erratic heartbeat. “But–but how?” Clearly, forming coherent sentences wasn’t your strong suit right now.

“I made my woman a promise.” Ari shrugs, setting his now empty plate aside. “And like I told you, I aimed to see it through. That cake is fucking fantastic by the way.”

“You managed to catch a flight?” You’re so convinced that he might disappear again that you’re almost afraid to drink. 

“Nah. Clint and I decided to rent a truck and brave the elements in favor of a little cross-country road trip.” He leans back against the counter, as if bracing himself for your response. And you sure as shit aren’t the type to disappoint. 

“Through a flippin’ blizzard?!” You squeal, gripping your face in your hands. “Jesus H. Christ, Beast! Are you insane?!” 

“Clearly.” His grin quickly fades into a grimace when you let out another scream as you flail your arms wide. 

“I can’t believe you did this!” You tell him as you feel hot tears wet your cheeks. “I can’t believe you–you…you’re here on Christmas.” The words come tumbling out as the dam breaks. 

“Bird…” 

Ari reaches for you then, although you’re quick to bat his hands away in favor of throwing your arms around his neck and hauling him close. At a loss for what else to do, one of his heavy palms comes to rest on your lower back, rubbing in small, soothing circles while you busy yourself with sobbing into his broad chest.

“Breathe, baby. There we go.” He coos softly, waiting patiently for you to pull away long enough for him to get a good look at your tear stained face. 

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You hiccup, using his thermal to dry your eyes. “But I’m also really mad at you for putting yourself in danger like that. You and Clint.” You quickly amend, offering him a watery smile. “You could’ve died, and then I would’ve had to kill you.”

You weren’t joking. You’d been experiencing a variety of violent thoughts lately. 

“Is that right?” Ari wraps your arms around his neck again as you two begin to sway to the beat of the music playing in the background. “Well, I’ll make sure to pass that on.” 

“Please do.” You murmur as you rest your ear on his chest, content to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. “Was it a long drive?” You allow your eyes to fall closed as you wait for him to respond. Regardless of his answer, you’re determined to keep your calm. 

“Eh, about ten hours or so.” He hums, dipping your bodies in time with the song. “Give or take. But the weather got much better around the middle of Kansas. We took our time. We were careful. In fact, Clint’s still out there.”

“Oh God, why?”

“He’s headed to Louisiana. Something about needing to track down an old friend named Nat.” He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before pushing you away so that he can twirl you around. “But enough about him. I missed you, Bird.” He briefly pauses your dance before bringing your knuckles to his mouth, making you melt.

“Yeah?” You purr, rising on your toes to nip at his jaw. “I missed you too. That’s why I’m wearing one of your Christmas presents. I was gonna show it to you on FaceTime, but you didn’t answer.”

Apparently because he’d been too busy driving across the country at the time. Who would’ve thought?

“This all for me?” His hands go to the belt of your robe, deftly undoing the knot. Once free, you give a little shimmy, content to let the robe pool on the floor at your bare feet. “Oh, yes the fuck it is.” The silky timbre of his voice has you soaking your panties.

As if they weren’t already ruined. 

“Merry Christmas.” Planting your hands on either side of his bearded jaw, you draw him down until your lips meet his. Groaning, your Bounty Hunter wastes almost no time deepening the kiss, his expert tongue sweeping past your defenses to duel with your own. 

God, he tasted so good. Like spearmint and coffee on a cold winter’s night. You honestly had no idea just how much you'd truly needed this man.

“Next time your sexy ass is comin’ with me.” Ari snarls, breaking the kiss to lightly tug at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Was gonna lose my mind if I had to go another day without this.”

“Okay, Beast.” You whimper when he sharply smacks your ass. “Whatever you say.” Right now, this man had no idea just how close you were to giving him whatever he wanted. All he had to do was ask. “Oooh!” You jolt when he delivers another blow. “Yes, baby. More!”

You’re rewarded with yet another delicious spank, which goes straight to your already aching clit. It was taking everything in you not to reach between your thighs and touch your dripping pussy.

But you refuse to give in, knowing that your man would want that privilege all for himself. 

“Mine.” He rasps, his tone taking on an almost feral quality as his calloused palms go to cup your heavy breasts through the thin fabric of your teddy. “Missed these perfect fuckin’ tits.” That’s your only warning before he grips the front of your garment and tearing it in two like it was nothing.

“Ari!” You gasp, arching your back when your man leans down to capture a pouting nipple into his warm, wet mouth. He sucks hard, using his tongue to tease the sensitive flesh. “Ungh!” You squirm in his grasp as long fingers dig into your hips to hold you in place for his sensual assault. 

Eventually, he releases you with a slight pop, just as his hands fall away from your hips. “Hope you’re ready, baby. Cuz’ I ain’t lettin’ you outta bed until New Year’s.” His roguish grin has a fresh tendril of heat unfurling in your belly. “Maybe later.”

“You’re all talk.” You giggle, slowly backing away as Ari continues to stalk towards you, using his muscular body to his advantage. 

“Nah.” He shrugs, his grin growing impossibly wider when your ass connects with your dining room table. “I can’t wait to lose myself between those thick thighs. Want you to fuckin’ suffocate me, baby.” 

Your Bounty Hunter drops to his knees in front you before burying his nose in your panty covered pussy and inhaling deeply. You feel your legs begin to quiver when he does it again, a soft cry escapes your lips when you feel his sharp teeth graze over the outline of your swollen clit.

“Need you to fuckin’ drown me while eat this pretty cunt.” Ari growls, delicately nipping at your inner thigh. “Swear I fuckin' see God every time I get you to sit on my face. That's how divine you taste.” 

“Oh!” You whine as he nuzzles his nose against the swollen bundle of nerves, making your core spasm. 

“But first, I’m gonna fuck you.” He places one last open-mouthed kiss on your mound before standing up and spinning you around in one blended motion. You cry out when your hands slap against the cool wooden surface. “Teach you a lesson for all the sass you fed me earlier today.”

On a growl, Ari makes quick work of his jeans, shoving them down his hair covered thighs along with his boxers almost faster than you can blink. 

“I’m so sorry, Beast…” You moan, offering up your stinging rump for another smack. Thankfully, Ari is more than happy to oblige. “Please…please...” Next thing you know, your thong has joined the rest of your ruined lingerie, putting your weeping cunt on display.

You let out a harsh gasp when you feel his hard, fat cock enter you in one swift thrust. Not wanting to wake the entire neighborhood with your screams, you find yourself biting down on your fist to keep yourself quiet. 

Ari takes a moment to readjust his position, spreading his legs so that he can go deeper, get a  better angle. He loves the way you sob for him, the needy little sounds you make while he fucks the shit out of your greedy little pussy. 

His hips snap in time with the music as your sweat-slick flesh connects again and again – driving you both closer to the brink. Your passion-filled cries fill the room as Ari somehow finds a way to go even deeper, giving it to you so good you know you’re gonna feel him inside you for days. 

Just the way you liked it. 

“Best Christmas ever, Duchess.” Your man grips the front of your throat, holding you in place while he uses you the way he needs to. God, he made you feel so good. Even when he had you ready to pull your hair out, he still had this way about him that made almost everything feel infinitely better.

“Best-oh God! More!” You cry out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head when he spanks your pussy with a measured flick of his wrist. This man wanted you to see stars, and he was more than up to the challenge. “Oh Jesus - f–fuck yeah!”

“There we go, sweetheart.” Ari purrs as his thrusts become a little more erratic. “Now how ‘bout we see how many times I can fill you up before the clock strikes midnight?”

“I–ooh!” You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a small shriek when he administers another wet smack.

“Huh.” He chuckles, leaving a trail of kisses along the curve of your throat. “Guess I’ll just have to take that as a yes.”

END

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[pardonmymannerssir]

(This wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it.)

Rook enters the dinning room -or what he likes to consider the mess hall- and recognizes all the faces present but one.

Strife steps forward immediately and the stranger follows. He’s tall, a few inches taller than Rook, and has short, curling blonde hair that’s graying at the temples. Theres a scar on his lip that somehow makes him look dashing instead of grizzly, and he’s wearing a breast plate emblazoned with a familiar symbol.

“Rook,” Strife says, “meet Commander Cullen Rutherford, of the Inquisition.”

The Commander extends his hand as if he’s not a legend made suddenly flesh. Rook has read stories about this man. Some of them rather salacious. His smile is crooked. “Just Cullen, please. Since the Inquisition disbanded the only thing I’ve been in command of is a few litters of Mabari puppies from time to time.”

Rook takes his hand firmly, because he’s a professional, damnit. “Right. Cullen. Pleasure to meet you, I assume you’re here to help?”

“Eve- the Inquisitor sent me ahead, I’ve a dozen men with me, the remnants of the Inquisition that we could spare from the South. It’s not much but they are some of our best.”

Rook nods sharply, catching Neve’s eye from across the room and trying to ignore the way his heart skips. The memories from the night before try very hard to distract him. All warm brown skin and breathy sighs. Her expression is unreadable but her eyes glitter.

They just need to get through this alive, he tells himself. Just this last bit. All they have to do is kill two gods. Easy.

“Every little bit helps,” he says finally, though an army would have been nice. “We’re grateful to have you. Now, let’s figure out how we’re going to get to Ghilan'nain.”

—-

Rook, for one, is deeply pleased to see the Inquisitor and Morrigan burst through the door. Especially considering the alternative had previously been either Venatori or Darkspawn.

Commander Cullen is… less so. The large man barrels forward with a grim fury in his eyes as Rook sags with relief against the nearest wall. The Commander has a small cut on his brow that has bled down the side of his face and he is splattered in blight, blood and general grime like the rest of them. The man is certainly formidable with sword and shield, and he may not have brought an army but he’d probably saved Rook’s life a dozen times on their way through the barrier.

The Inquisitor looks pristine in contrast, her nondescript robes are spotless and her coppery hair is carefully braided away from her face. She’s pretty and stately as always, but pale and sharp like a small dagger. She looks to her Commander with steely resolve and the air of a woman who’s been here before.

“I thought we agreed you would remain behind,” Cullen bites out.

Magister Dorian slips past them with an affectionate roll of his eyes for Rook’s benefit. Clearly this is a display he’s seen before.

The Inquisitor smirks but the steel in her eyes remains. “What, and let you have all the fun.”

“Evelyn-“

“Not Inquisitor?”

“You shouldn’t be here. We agreed.”

She sighs, shoulders sagging a little. “Cullen… I have to try.”

“You have tried,” Cullen insists. “For Makers sake, Inquisitor he cut your hand off and left you unconscious and alone.”

Huh. Rook adds dismemberment to his long list of reasons why Solas is an ass.

“Well yes, but he did it to save my life.”

Cullen shakes his head. “So he claimed but in case it’s escaped your notice he’s rather known for lying.”

“It is pretty hard to deny that the Mark had been killing me, love.” She looks at him and there’s a pleading in her eyes. “This time it’s different, we’ve got Mythal and-“

Cullen reaches out and takes her arm and the moment becomes instantly more intimate and Rook can read the anguish in the other man’s face. He should look away but finds he can’t. Transfixed by the devotion nakedly on display.

“Evelyn, please, it’s too dangerous. We aren’t as young as we once were and I can’t bear the thought of you endangering yourself again. Not after what he did to Varric.”

The mention of Varric burns, a fresh and gapping wound.

The Inquisitor reaches up to cup the Commander’s cheek and she mutters a spell softly under her breath, healing his wound. She pulls a handkerchief from her robes and mops gently at the blood left behind. The sharpness in her dulls and her fingers linger at his jaw. “Typical of you to berate me for risking my life while you’re covered in blood. Besides, you’re the old one. I’m a full six years younger than you and in the prime of my life.”

Cullen grabs her hand and traps it against his face. He closes his eyes for a moment with the air of a man praying for patience. “Ten years hasn’t made you take matters more seriously,” he says dryly.

The Inquisitor chuckles. “And here I thought you fell in love with me for my fantastic sense of humor and great a-“

Cullen shuts her up with a kiss. Firm. Desperate. Lingering. Rook finally manages to look away to find Neve watching him. This time her expression is very easy to read. He peels himself away from the wall and sheathes his sword. A kiss sounds rather nice, he decides.

—-

Solas disappears and the veil snaps closed with a sound like a clap of thunder. Silence descends as the enormity of what just happened hovers just beyond Rook’s comprehension.

It’s over. It’s really over.

Next to him, the Inquisitor sinks to her knees, fingers pressed to her lips. There are tears in her eyes. Rook follows suit, though his own decent is much less.. graceful. Neve helps him down and he uses his sword for a bit of support as the aftershocks of adrenaline and pure relief course through him. His entire body beneath his armor feels like one giant bruise, but he throws an arm around Neve’s shoulders and plants a sound kiss to her temple that makes her blush before she sinks into him. It strikes him that he has time. So much time now. To touch, to kiss, to talk. To laugh.

“It’s over,” the Inquisitor whispers. “He’s gone.”

Commander Cullen is rushing across the terrace, worry etched on his face. The rest of Rook’s team is fast on his heels. The Inquisitor must recognize the clattering sound of Cullen’s approach because she forces herself unsteadily to her feet. She turns just in time for her Commander to gather her into his arms.

“Thank the Maker,” he says with the reverence of a true believer and he takes the Inquisitor’s face in his hands, looking her over for injury.

The Inquisitor laughs. It’s a bright sound, like the chiming of a bell, and shoves his hands away to throw her arms around his neck.

Cullen stumbles back a step and then swings her around once, twice, his smile blinding. They kiss, tenderly. When the Inquisitor pulls away, however, she looks toward the space where Solas had once stood and there is sadness and regret in her eyes.

“He went willingly… alone… possibly forever.”

Cullen’s mouth forms a hard line. “He has much to atone for.”

“Yes… I know. I only wish-I don’t know, that we’d had more time to talk. He was my friend once…”

Cullen only squeezes her gently before setting her on her feet. The Inquisitor turns to Rook, an air of formality settling about her like a cloak. It makes him sit a bit straighter. In her simple robes with wisps of hair fluttering in the breeze, she manages to look regal.

“Thank you, Rook, for helping me finish this.”

He manages a nod, not at all sure how to react. “Hard to imagine where we go from here,” he says, then looks at Neve whose heart is shinning in her eyes. “Well, I suppose you two have given me a few ideas.”

[greeniegirl23]

Radio Babies 1#: How They Act When They Are Sick 🤕

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Welcome to the first (not really) chapter of the Radio Babies series!! And yes that's the name because I am both corny and lazy so hahaha.

For those of you who don't know, this is the official kick off chapter following the same mood as my "Alastor As A Father" scenarios. Despite it being called "Radio Babies" not every chapter I write about will be them actually being babies. Just making that clear...

And we have names for these kiddos! From now on the daughter is named Evelyn or Eve for short, while her brother is named Alphonse or Ali for short.

I hope you enjoy the chapters I'm planning to cook up and add to this series, but if you guys come up with something you want me to write about these two, I absolutely can! I enjoy being given prompts, so don't hesitate to comment or even send an ask requesting something.

Now that the intro is done, on with the chapter!

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

It all started when Alphonse came home from school with a cough. You thought nothing of it and gave him some tea with honey to soothe him.

Three days later, Alphonse and Evelyn are blowing their noses until they turn red. Finally you checked their temperatures and found that sure enough, they both had fevers. Immediately you panicked. It was rare for someone to get sick in Hell because of the hot temperatures making it next to impossible for germs to exist, but after having a doctor check them out, he assured you it was just the flu and that they would be fine as long as you took care of them.

When you told Alastor about this, he literally went right back out the door and ran to the nearby apothecary. After an hour he returned home with comically large grocery bags, filled to the brim with things that looked funny and smelled weird. Wasting no time, Alastor asked for your assistance as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his Mother's old school tricks that were ingrained in his mind after years of her care.

“Here darling,” He said, handing you a bunch of spices. “Place those in the pot and let them boil for a while, when your finished please grab me a pair of socks from each of our patients. I'm going to cut these onions up in the meantime.”

“What do you need socks for?” You asked, completely unaware of his foreign methods from the south.

He smiled sweetly, yet you could still see a hint of mischief in his eyes. “You'll see shortly, however I'm very sure that our little fawns will absolutely despise it.”

Soon enough, everything was finished and Alastor was ready to knock this sickness out of the ballpark. Calling his children down stairs, Alastor got straight to work. Every remedy he could think of, he gave them.

Ice packs on their heads? Check. Onions in socks to draw out the fever? Check. Homemade chicken soup for nutrition? Check. Tea with honey to soothe the throat? Check. Lemon candy with fresh herbs? Yep! He even had them inhale steam from bowls of hot water with cloths on their heads to break up the mucus.

Just as he predicted, your children immediately started whining, groaning, and moaning. Complaining about everything except for the soup since Alastor’s cooking was enough to make Gordon Ramsay cry.

Evelyn, your sweet baby girl absolutely despised the feeling of the onions in her socks as she walked around the house when needed. Even going so far as to hiss at Alastor when it was time to change them out.

Her brother, Alphonse was no better. Your poor boy was ready to submerge himself in an ice bath in order to stop the perfused sweating that he was generating from being forced to inhale steam with a bunch of random plants he couldn't even name.

“Thou will pay for this Father..!” Eve growled, struggling against the tendrils that were restraining her while your husband struggled against your preteen. “Get these filthy filths OfF oF mE!!”

“Ah-ah! No lip Little Miss,” He replied, finally getting one of the socks over her hoove. “Your mother and I worked hard to make these remedies all in an effort to aid you and your brother, which means that you will wear tHe daMn sOcks ChiLd…”

“Language!” You scolded him. He snapped his head towards you with an irritated twitch in his eye. “Oh, but she gets to curse me out in Shakespearean?!”

“Mama!” Alphonse whined. “Please make him stop, we live in Hell but I feel like I'm actually burning alive!!”

You sighed. “I'm sorry Sweetie, but I trust your Dad enough to believe that he knows what he's doing. As long as you do the same, I'm sure you'll be better in no time.” A simultaneous groan left your children as they continue doing what their father demanded of them. Even though Alastor didnt walk away from Eve without a scratch or two.

For the next few days Alastor put them on a schedule that ran like clockwork. From food, to tea, to even taking medicine of his own creation. This man was playing no games with the infection that dared to sicken his little bambi’s.

They tried to seek you out for comfort, coming to you with enough complaints to fill a small notebook. Alastor put a stop to that real quick though, giving them a stern look when they tried to pull your heartstrings via puppy eyes and toddler-like crying. He hated being so cruel to them he really did, but he had to since their health was on the line. He remembered when he'd do the same with his mother only for her to send him right back to bed.

On day three, Al and Eve were much much better. Your husband's chest puffed up with pride as the little ones returned back to their normal ways and you forced both of them to thank their Dad for all his hard work.

However, that pride turned bittersweet as Alastor came down with the flu that same weekend. You felt bad for him as he laid in bed like a wet noodle, all stuffy and congested. Fussing like a baby about this interfering with his work.

He didn't have to worry long, because you reminded him that he had three personal nurses by his side and that as long as they were around, he'd be in good hands.

[farmerstarter]

Alex is my fave bachelor. Any random headcaons for him? Please and thank you! ☺

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Random Headcanons

tags: alex from sdv x gn! reader

Alex supremacy !! I love the personal headcanon of Alex being one of the best cooks in the town. Our favorite sports boy 🥰💞

𐙚⭑To your surprise, Alex is an amazing cook. When he moved onto the farm, he brought with him his grandmother’s many cookbooks. He promised to cook for you every day, and he made sure you had eaten enough before you started working. “Your body needs the fuel!” Alex would exclaim, sliding another pancake onto your plate. Without your knowledge, Alex contacted your parents to find out what your favorite foods were. Your mother did not waste any time and immediately sent her cookbook in the mail for Alex to skim through.

𐙚⭑He took it upon himself to help you on the farm, more specifically when it came to the chickens. After getting some tips from Shane, the brunette insisted he take care of the coop while you handled the crops. He was very adamant about it too. For his work, he only asked for an egg (which he slurped down his throat, much to your dismay).

𐙚⭑You, Alex, and your pets would always find the time to play catch on Saturdays. It’s Alex’s favorite day of the week.

𐙚⭑To make it easier for George and Evelyn to visit the farm, Alex fixed up the path towards it, laying down paths and shoveling away any roots and rocks his grandparents might trip over.

𐙚⭑Alex wanted to go with you whenever you went to the mines. It goes smoothly most of the time, save for that one time Alex’s jacket was absolutely ruined by a slime. He was so bummed out about it because Evelyn had sewed it for him. But his grandmother reassured him she could make another one for him. You were the one that actually sewed his new jacket under Evelyn and Emily’s guidance. You gave the garment to him on his birthday. He may, or may not, have cried buckets after the small birthday gathering. Both yours and Alex’s names are embroidered on the inside of the right sleeve.

𐙚⭑Alex gets REALLY into decorating the farm for each season and holiday. He loves putting up lights for Winter Star, setting up spooky decorations for Spirit’s Eve, and putting flowers all over the farm for the Flower Dance. You have the aching suspicion that he got this little quirk from Evelyn.

𐙚⭑Consider: Alex and Harvey being jogging buddies and Alex is the most aggressively supportive gym friend, ready to scream encouraging words whenever Harvey starts to slow down.

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were (One Shot): It Fit Too Right

a/n: welcome to my all the things i did metaverse. please meet evelyn, a hollywood a-lister who falls in love with her co-star callum turner while filming masters of the air. this will most likely be a request based series so send them all in! would also love to flush out this relationship more with you guys through asks and chats. let me know what you think!!

He stood in the doorway of their hotel suite with a smile as he watched one person tug the corset of her gown tighter, another brush powder across her cheeks and a third place her hair over her shoulder in a meticulous manner. 

“I promise we’re almost done, baby.” 

“Don’t rush perfection on my account,” he said with a smile as he took a few steps into the room. “Let me help, love.” Callum grabbed the pair of heels from her stylist and dropped to one knee, Evelyn steadying herself on his shoulder as he slipped on one shoe and then the other. He kissed up her leg for good measure as she giggled, standing with a matching smile as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“People might get the wrong idea. You being on one knee like that.” In reality, he was just waiting for her to say she was ready and he’d be on one knee with a ring in hand in an instant. 

“The right idea you mean.” Evelyn blushed as her team began to filter out of the room. There was always a moment before every event that the two of them wanted time to themselves. They had gotten used to picking up the tempo for when it was arriving. “One day,” he followed up with a whisper. 

“One day. Soon.” He felt something blossom in his chest at her words. “Help me with my necklace?” The gold chain held a dainty C charm and fit perfectly snug around her neck as he clasped it securely.

“Gave you this necklace almost two years ago. So much has changed since then.” Yet so much had also stayed the same. They were still in each other’s orbit, circling the sun together and happy to live in this pattern for the rest of eternity. 

“And we finally get to show the world our love story.” Callum wrapped his arms around her from behind and they swayed gently to the song playing in his head. “Tracy told me there’s already stories lined up about the timeline of it all. About the overlap of still being legally married and filming the show and meeting you.” Her publicist warned her as soon as the premiere was scheduled that all the questions were going to get dragged up again. The accusations and the whispers of infidelity.

“I know the truth and you know the truth, Ev. That’s all that fucking matters.” The truth was that her marriage was a disaster the entire last year. The fights about his job and her job and fertility issues and the occasional bump of coke all mixing into a toxic sludge she was still working her way through years later.

“You’ll punch anyone who asks on the carpet or on the press tour?” She looked at him over her shoulder. 

“With a smile on my face,” Callum answered with a pucker of his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Begrudgingly, she untangled herself from his arms and interlocked their fingers together in its place. He squeezed tight as they took the elevator down to the lobby with their security, her other hand wrapping around his wrist for two anchor points at the sight of the paparazzi waiting for them on the sidewalk. 

“Evelyn! Callum! Look to the left!

“To the right, guys, come on a little smile please!”

“Callum, how about a kiss?”

His hand landed on the small of her back as he helped her into the waiting SUV before sliding in next to her. Evelyn collapsed as the door shut. “Fucking brutal,” she muttered.

“I’m hoping they get what they want at the carpet and they can leave us alone when we get back tonight.” He reached for her hand and held it in his lap. “What are my lanes in the road for touching you tonight?” 

“Are you feeling particularly handsy tonight, Mr. Turner?” she asked with a smirk as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed across each knuckle. 

“That dress is an inspiration.” She leaned in with a giggle and kissed him square on the mouth. 

“Then make sure everyone there tonight knows that.” His eyebrows raised on their own accord. 

“Yeah? You mean that?” Normally, she was much more reserved. Making him settle for longing stares and soft, hidden smiles and subtle allusions to each other. She hid from all the attention and let her work speak for itself. 

“Maybe…maybe the part of me that always wants to hide should work on healing herself tonight.” It also had been a piece of homework from her therapist this week. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah, we’ll work on it tonight. Together.” 

“Together,” she reiterated as he kissed her hand again and then her lips. 

“You make me so happy. No matter what.” 

“You make me happiest,” she laughed as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and left a few kisses there. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

----

The ride was over all too quickly, the SUV idling at the start of the carpet and the sounds of muffled screaming and yelling reaching their ears instantly. Ever since their relationship had been made public, there had been attention on them like neither had ever experienced. 

She had been called a cheater, he had been called a social climber. Accusations of adultery and a months-long affair behind her husband’s back and questions on how valid Callum’s feelings could be as a less well-known star than her. Hell, Howard Stern had straight up asked her on his radio show how it felt to have power over the person she was in a relationship with when she had been so powerless previously. Callum certainly hadn’t taken kindly to the implication. 

Quarantine had been the perfect bubble for their love to take root and flourish. Had insulated them from the outside world as long as possible and allowed her walls to come down. They were built up so high after her failed marriage. Reinforced as her mind worked through the mental fuckery of falling in love with your co-star. Evelyn hadn’t known where she began and the character ended for the longest time but she knew in her heart she wanted to figure it out with him. 

The roar reached a fever pitch as Callum stepped out of the car, buttoned his jacket and waved to a group of fans on the side. He waited for her, watched her take a deep breath and square her shoulders before she took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the vehicle. 

Her movie star smiled flitted across her face easily as their fingers interlocked and her own hand raised in a wave before letting her boyfriend slot his lips against hers to the delight of the camera flashes. 

“Let’s do a couple autographs before interviews.” Her publicist gently pressed on the small of her back to guide in the direction of glossy photographs and posters and an endless sea of markers.

Evelyn smiled warmly as she let go of his hand and began to scrawl her name across various posters of her in Targaryen garb or an old military uniform or the occasional photo she had taken with a fan previously that they were now adding her penmanship to.

“Can I get a selfie?”

“Yeah of course!” She smiled with as many fans as she could and let them take a few photos to choose from before she was getting the signal it was time to keep it moving. “Thanks for coming!” Evelyn blew a few kisses to the crowd before Callum had her hand right back in his for the ensuing carpet walk. 

“Ev, you want to go first?” Tracy asked as she was beginning to urge her to the first photomark. She hit the X and did her best to look at the cameras like she wanted to fuck them. Those were normally the only shots that kept their hunger sated and kept from yelling too explicitly at her the rest of the night. 

She looked over her shoulder and watched Callum smile and show off his suit like it was second nature and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to look at the photos later to see just how in love she was in this moment. He took her extended hand with a mischievous smile, falling in love all over again with this side of her that he knew well but she kept hidden from the outside world. 

“Let me get the two of you looking to the right!”

“Put your hands on her, mate!” “Look right at the camera with a smile, Evelyn!”

Callum furrowed his brow and wrapped his arm around her waist a little tighter as they kept fighting for a piece of them. They had both worked so hard to keep this one corner of their lives sacred and private but they couldn’t stay that way forever. Especially when they were trying to promote the show that brought them together in the first place. 

“You good?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Hold my hand the rest of the carpet?”

“Of course, love.” Their eyes stayed locked together as he kissed the back of her hand and they made their way towards the first interviewer. 

“It’s so good to see you guys again!”

“It’s good to see you too! It’s been a minute,” Evelyn replied.

“Last time I saw you, Callum, you were with George Clooney which is a hard interview companion to top-”

“Oh, I’ve done it. This one’s my companion for life.” She couldn’t help but blush at his forwardness. “This show brought so many beautiful people to my life and introduced me to this incredible story of these men and the sacrifices they made for us but I’ll never be able to articulate what meeting this woman and falling in love with her has done for me and the honor that has truly been.” 

“This is why my team is always trying to keep us separate in front of a microphone because we always get a little in our feels about each other.” Evelyn rested her cheek against his chest.

“Tell me about that. You guys film this show and feel some vibes and then the premiere gets delayed for two years. Does this add to the nervousness or does it add to the excitement?”

“Definitely both,” Evelyn teases, “the characters are real people, real heroes, so there is such a desire to make sure the story is told in the most accurate, thankful way. Part of making sure that happened was fully devoting ourselves to the relationship between these two and to discover something real in the process was a really happy accident.” Her hand rested on his cheek and he kissed her palm, looking at her like she was the only girl in the entire world. For him she was.

“We had the opportunity to meet their children and grandchildren which was such a blessing because on paper I was skeptical, it seemed written for the movies, but they had letters and pictures and stories that really showed these two loved each other in a magical way their entire lives.”

“And what’s next for you two? I hear rumors we may see you, Ms. Shaw, in a movie about sand and worms…” Evelyn laughed. 

“I hear Austin Butler loves worms so you should ask him. I know nothing about a movie with those themes.” She mimed sealing her lips and throwing away the key. The interviewer looked to Callum for help.

“Hey, I know even less than you do. This one’s a steel trap.” 

“Alright, I’m getting the signal that the most in demand people on this carpet tonight are needing to move along. Have the best night ever you two!” They both offered their thanks before a team of security and assistants collapsed ranks around them as they moved down the carpet. 

“How’d we do, Trace?” Callum asked as he swung their interlocked hands back and forth. 

“You were on your best behavior. Thank you.” Evelyn was a typical client for a publicist. Did good work and got high profile projects, never caused controversy in an interview but had some skeletons in her closet. Evelyn always did exactly as she asked and took her advice as gospel. Her boyfriend on the other hand was all boisterous and laughed and sang and had not a care in the world. He wanted to hold her and kiss and let the whole world know he was in love with her and scream it from the rooftops. 

“I see Mr. Butler!” Evelyn pointed directly ahead to the tall blonde man taking photos with Barry. “Oh, and Barry! I haven’t seen him recently enough to ask about bathwater.”

“Look who it is! My first and second wheel!” Austin lifted her up and spun her around before greeting Callum. “You two walking together?” While he was very familiar with their PDA behind closed doors, it was rare to see it out in the open. 

“This is as close to her accepting a proposal as I’m gonna get, mate.” Ev rolled her eyes and turned to get in between them for the row of photographers currently screaming at them. She is safe in between the two of them. Had needed every ounce of it when she had arrived on set all those years ago. 

She knew Callum had a ring tucked away somewhere safe. Knew he was dying with every passing day to make things between them official forever. She meant soon when she had said it earlier. 

Evelyn looked up at him as the camera continued to blind her and she tuned them out. She smiled and he smiled right back. “I love you,” he whispered so it existed just between the two of them. 

“I love you, too. So much.” 

Yes. Soon indeed.

[mariasont]

Our Minds Entwined------------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3

Aaron Hotchner x Original Character x Spencer Reid

in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member

Chapter Two:

Evelyn glided into the BAU office like the first breath of spring, her heels tapping a confident rhythm against the gleaming floor--a drummer setting the beat for a new day. The sun peaked shyly above the horizon, casting a soft glow that seemed to dance with the spark in her eyes. With a tray of meticulously chosen coffee cups cradled in her hands, she was the portrait of preparedness, memorizing everyone's order--or so she thought.

Her arrival was like a ripple in a still pond, drawing the gaze of every agent in the room. They couldn't help but be captivated by the way her hair cascaded in perfect waves, each strand catching the light as if spun from chestnut threads. Her nails, painted a shade of pink, spoke of a meticulous nature, each tip polished to a flawless finish. The air shifted around her, sweetened by the subtle hint of vanilla that trailed in her wake. She moved with a grace that belied the steel in her spine.

"Good morning, everyone!" Evelyn chirps, her voice a cheerful melody that fills the BAU conference room. She flutters to the table, her movements light. "Your caffeine fix, courtesy of the new girl," she announced with a wink, her words wrapped in warmth.

Each cup finds its way into the hands of colleagues, a personal touch from the newest member. Hotchner's eyebrow arches in silent question as he brings the cup to his lips, the familiar comfort of his morning ritual poised at the edge of disruption.

The first sip is a surprise, a cascade of caramel where stark bitterness usually resides. "This is... different," he remarks, the dryness of his tone belting out a hint of amusement that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Yet, in the curve of his mouth, there's a shadow of a smile, a rare crack in the facade of the ever-serious unit chief.

Reid's curiosity piqued as he approached his coffee with caution. The liquid was dark and unadulterated, a stark contrast to the usual sugary coffee. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a silent nod to Evelyn's thoughtful gesture. "Actually, this is exactly how I like it," he said, the lie as transparent as glass, accompanied by an awkward sweep of his hand through his hair. "Thank you, Evelyn."

The room fills with soft laughter. It was a rare sound, one that seemed to wrap around the room like a comforting blanket. Rossi, who had just walked in, couldn't but chuckle as he reached for his expresso, served just the way he liked it.

"You'll fit right in, kid," Rossi said, his voice rich with approval as he gave Evelyn a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed with a cocktail of embarrassment and delight, a rosy hue that matched the sunrise peeking through the blinds. "I'll get it right next time, promise," she chirped, her voice a tender mix of hope and humility.

As the room settled into the rhythm of the morning briefing, Evelyn found herself perched next to Reid, her pulse dancing to a nervous beat. "So, I heard you're going to be my mentor," she blurted out, her words tumbling faster than her mind could keep up. "I'm really looking forward to learning from you, Dr. Reid. I mean, your analysis on the last case was just--wow!"

Reid's gaze lingered on her, a silent enigma before his lips curled into a smile that could put the stars to shame. "I'm looking forward to working with you too, Evelyn. And please, call me Spencer."

The name rolled off her tongue, a sweet note in her mouth. "Spencer," she echoed, savoring the familiarity it promised. A shadow of a memory flickered--the bar incident--and her smile wavered, a ripple of uncertainty. Had he heard what she said that night? She prayed not.

The conference room, usually a crucible of tension and intellect, shifted into a training exercise as Hotchner laid out the case before Evelyn. "Evelyn, we have a mock case for you," he declared, his voice a beacon of authority. "We need a profile for a suspect based on the evidence provided. Let's see what you've got."

Evelyn stood, her notes clutched in her hands like a shield, her smile a bright flag of enthusiasm. "Thank you, sir," she said, her voice ringing with the clear tones of determination. "Okay, based on the behavioral patterns and crime scene photos, I'd say our suspect is a male in his late thirties, likely works in a managerial position--someone who's used to being in control."

From the sidelines, Reid observed, his mentor's eyes sharp yet encouraging. As Evelyn unfolded her thoughts, he found himself quietly impressed by the clarity of her intuition and solidity of her logic. She was a natural, her talent shining through like a lighthouse in the fog.

"Also," Evelyn pressed on, her confidence swelling, "he's meticulous, organized. The way the scene is arranged, it's almost ritualistic. This isn't his first rodeo."

Hotchner absorbed her words, his face a mask of neutrality. When she concluded, he gave a slow nod. "Impressive, Evelyn. Very thorough analysis."

Reid leaned in, his gaze locking with Evelyn's. "You're right about the control aspect," he offered softly, his voice a harmonious contrast to Hotchner's commanding tone. "But consider this--the suspect might also crave recognition. The 'ritualistic' aspect could be a signature, a way to stand out."

Evelyn's eyes stayed on Reid; her respect evident. "That's a really good point, thank you, Dr. Reid--Spencer," she corrected, a blush coloring her cheeks.

A hush fell over the room, all eyes drawn to the pair. Then, like a burst of sunlight through clouds, Garcia tumbled into the room, her arms laden with case files and her attire a splash of color. "Sorry, I'm late, traffic was a nightmare!" she announced, but her tone softened as she caught sight of Evelyn. "Oh, you're doing the mock case today! You go, girl!"

Evelyn's smile returned, buoyed by Garcia's infectious cheer. The room came alive with a fresh vigor, the team converging to weave their insights on Evelyn's building profile.

As the discussion continues, Spencer leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for Evelyn. "You have a good instinct for this," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with pride.

The moment shattered as JJ burst through the door, her breaths quick and sharp, cutting through the quiet. "Sorry to interrupt," she gasped, "But we've got a situation. The 'Charleston Choker'--he's active again."

A heavy silence fell, the team's focus coalescing into a sharp point. Hotchner's nod was silent, a nonverbal command that set the wheels in motion. "Go ahead, JJ."

With a sense of solemnity, JJ unfurled the folder, her fingers tracing the outline of a lily in a crime scene photo. "Two hours ago, a jogger found a body in the woods outside of Charleston. Strangulation, posed, and..." Her voice faltered, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue, "...a lily placed in the victim's hands."

Reid's mind was a whirl with patterns and profiles, his thoughts racing ahead. "That's the third this month. The escalation is consistent with his pattern."

Evelyn's response with a bright flame of determination, tinged with a concern of the uninitiated. "What's our timeline looking like? How fast is he moving now?"

"Faster," JJ returned, her gaze locking with Evelyn's, a silent exchange of resolve. "Days instead of weeks."

Garcia chimed in from her nest of monitors, "And I just cross-referenced florists in the area. There's a purchase that stands out--cash, large quantities. It could be our guy."

Evelyn's eyes shone, the thrill of her first case igniting a spark within. "That's something! Can we get a location?"

Reid's smile was tinged with pride and a hint of concern. "We can, and we will. But we need to be careful. This unsub is cautious; he's been evading us for a reason."

Hotchner rose, his very stance a commandment. "Wheels up in 30. JJ, brief us on the way. Garcia, send everything you have to the tablets."

The team began to mobilize, the urgency palpable. As they walked out, Evelyn turned to Reid, her voice a mix of excitement and naivety. "This is it, huh? The real deal?"

Reid nodded, the protective edge in his voice unmistakable. "It is. And remember, it's not about just catching him--it's about saving the next potential victim."

--

Evelyn's first step onto the BAU jet was like stepping into another world--one where the grim realities of their job were momentarily eclipsed by the sheer luxury of federal funding. The plush leather seats, the soft hum of the engines, it was all so... cinematic.

As she settled into the seat beside Hotchner, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She was here, really here, on the jet she'd seen countless times from her father, now filled with the tangible presence of her new colleagues--legends in their own right. And then there was Hotchner, the epitome of stoic leadership, his profile as he reviewed case files was a study in concentration. Evelyn couldn't help but steal glances, each one leaving her more awestruck than the last.

Hothcner's brow raised as his focus stayed on the case file. "Something on your mind, Evelyn?" he inquired, his voice steady.

Evelyn's cheeks were a canvas of emotion, painted with the embarrassment of being caught ogling as she averted her eyes. "Just... taking it all in. It's a lot to process," she said, her voice a whisper of excitement against the backdrop of her new reality.

A smile, rare and fleeting, graced Hotchner's lips. "It can be overwhelming at first," he acknowledged, his words a gentle nudge of encouragement.

The jet engines roared to life, and as they ascended, Evelyn felt the weight of her new reality. She was flying high, both literally and metaphorically on the wings of her dreams and the gravity of their mission. The juxtaposition was dizzying.

JJ commanded the room from the head of the plane, her laser pointer a wand of urgency as she traced the geography of the investigation. "This is where the last body was found," she intoned, each word heavy with the gravity of their task. "And here, and here. All within a ten-mile radius."

Morgan's posture was that of a statue, contemplative and still. "He's got a comfort zone. He's not taking any chances, staying close to what he knows," he mused, his thoughts a fortress around the profile they were building.

"Which means he's likely a local. Someone who blends in, who wouldn't raise suspicion," Reid contributes, his voice a sound of reason.

Evelyn observed with the intensity of a hawk. Her notes were a flurry of ink and paper, a physical manifestation of her fervor to contribute.

"So, we're looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least we know which haystack," she offered, her optimism a beacon in the fog of uncertainty.

Garcia's voice, a familiar melody, filled the space from the screen. "And I'm sifting through it as we speak, my doves. I'll find that needle," she promised, her determination a tangible force even through the digital divide.

Hotchner's nod was a silent decree, a sign of approval and command. "Good. Keep us updated, Garcia," he directed.

The team continues to brainstorm, throwing out theories and ideas. Evelyn sat amidst the seasoned agents; her eyes wide with a childlike wonder. Her enthusiasm was infectious, a palpable energy that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her heartbeat--fast, eager, alive. Hotchner watched her, his gaze the steady flame in her excitement.

There was a softness there, a rare glimpse of approval that softened the hard lines of his face. He saw in her the spark that had once driven him, the unquenchable thirst for justice that was the lifeblood of their work.

Evelyn's idea cut through the hum of the plane's descent. "What if we set up a roadblock? Check vehicles coming in and out of the area?" Her voice a symphony of eagerness.

Rossi smirks at her words. "Not a bad idea for a rookie," he mused, his words a gentle tease wrapped in the velvet of experience.

As the plane continues to descend, the team starts to pack up their gear. Hotchner remained seated, his gaze anchoring Evelyn in place.

"Listen, Evelyn," he said, his tone even, "I know this is exciting for you, your first real case. But remember, this job... it can take a lot out of you. It can change you."

Evelyn nodded, her shine not dimming. "I know. But I'm ready."

Hotchner's expression softened just a touch. "Just don't lose that optimism. It's rare in this line of work, and it's... refreshing."

next

[galaxygurlll]

FP1 - Aussie GP 2019 - Part 4

A new team? With two females? This is unheard of and will most certainly shake things up in F1! Meet Y/n Rose-Ocean and Evelyn Match as they get assigned seats into a new team into the F1, Porsche Royal racing. Y/n holds the number 38 whilst Evelyn holds the number 72. The two are introduced as rookies in the 2019 season, but, their area has been yet to be revealed, it being closed by tarps, and the two girls' identities have also remained a secret. Over time, even though she’s one of the youngest, she soon becomes the “grid aunt” and even “grid older/younger sister” as well.

Warnings for this chapter: None

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Previous chapter

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/galaxygurlll

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Continuing on...

The atmosphere is immaculate.

Ev and I are walking into the paddock, side by side with Aurel on my left and Urs on Ev's right. The sound of clicking enters my ears and I look around and find a camera pointing towards us and I give a quick wave to it.

With the security around us, we're able to avoid all the press and people wanting to ask us questions and get statements from us which I am somewhat happy about. I mean, I know that after Sunday, it will become a weekly occurrence, I hope.

Our little group passes by some of the other drivers that are just entering their garages and we even pass by Lance who I wave to as well and get a nod and smile in response before he disappears inside Racing Point to most likely talk to his team.

It's only a few more seconds before one of the security people is opening up a flap that lets us inside the Porche garage. "Alright girls, you can head up to your drivers' rooms but make sure to be down here in around an hour or so please," Aurel informs us causing both Ev and I to nod as we take off our hoods and sunnies.

"Sure thing boss and second boss, see ya later!" I call out to the brother as the two of us girls rush up to our rooms and agree to spend time right now in our own rooms, but later on will hang out in one another's.

As soon as I close the door, I practically rip off my disguise and let out a breath of a realise. In a few hours time, I will be driving in FP1 for the first time in F1 amongst the top 10 teams and top 20 drivers in the world. Talk about pressure.

I'm not too great with my emotions, but I've been compacting these feelings deep down and just need to let it all go. But I can't. Not yet at least.

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Small time skip

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As soon as I place my helmet onto my head, I realise a deep sigh and make a quick jog over to my car. Upon taking the steering wheel out, I hand it to one of my engineers to hold onto whilst I hoist myself up and into the vehicle before taking it back and putting it into place.

Now, time for the waiting game.

The garage is still hidden by the tarp, but is about to be revealed for the first time ever. Porche Royal Racing.

And then, the countdown in my headset begins. I'm way too nervous to even look over at Evelyn. "3... 2... 1..." And as soon as that last number was spoken, the garage becomes bright. Sunlight finally able to reach the inside and I can hear the distant cheers of the crowd.

"Alright y/n, wait for the signal to head out onto the track," The voice of my race engineer, Gavern, echoes through my ears and I give him a thumbs up as he turns around to face me before turning back around. It feels like forever until I hear the words, "Alright, you are free to go, follow the people that are instructing you out."

I don't respond back, but I do follow those instructions and wait to be signed out before driving down the pit lane towards the exit slowly before speeding up and heading out onto the track.

It feels so surreal. Honestly. Like, if I was told when I was five that I'd be here, I would never have believed it. Having the air rush past me as I go speeds only imaginable in a casual car on the road. Of course, I had practised in the car before starting in Formula 1 but this is nothing like that feeling.

Looking through my mirrors as I go through turn 6, I spot Ev a little ways behind and send a quick thumbs up to her, hoping that she can see it. "Good pace so far, keep going," Gavern, my race engineer, speaks making me jump for a second from the scare, "Yup, cool," I respond back, "Did I scare you?" He asks making me sigh whilst going through turn 10, "Yes, sorry. I'm gonna get used to that. At some point," As he responds back, he's chuckling making me roll my eyes, "Sorry, good driving though. I'll leave you be for now."

I decide not to respond and keep my eyes ahead of me as I hear other car engines all around the place. Turn after turn, car after car, gear change after gear change. My mind doesn't even get to properly comprehend what I am doing but also it does at the same time as I take each turn so gracefully and precisely whilst using enough oversteer to keep steady and to try not to crash.

This goes on for some time, from what I realise as I have to shake myself back into reality as I got so deep into focus.

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Small time skip

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I stayed out for as long as needed and possible before getting told over radio that, "That's enough information for now, you can pull in and recharge for FP2." And, of course, I listen to the message and pull into the pit lane and see many curious eyes from the other teams garages as I drive by them.

Hopping out of the car after parking the car, I make sure to keep my helmet on before spotting Gavern gesturing me over to him just as Ev pulls in as well and, with a quick wave and thumbs up to her, I hastily walk over towards my race engineer.

Gavern decides to also give me a brief run down on everything that happened during FP1, including the other drivers:

Running wide, Valtteri lost the rear of his Mercedes, narrowly avoiding the wall before executing a nearly perfect hand-break turn.

Alex took a spin exiting turn two damaging both ends of his Toro Rosso, not the start he was hoping for.

Daniel was wearing Aussie themed boots and has a new helmet design but was only in P19 in FP1.

Drivers kept driving through the dirt.

Lewis placed P1 in FP1.

Ev placed P17 in FP1.

And I placed P14 in FP1.

It's now some time until FP2, and I need a rest. I'm all sweaty and puffed out for now. But, I can do this. I'm already up high in the grid, but it is also on FP1 so, drivers could be hiding their true talents.

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Next chapter

Part 4: Being written now

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Authors note:

Hey everybody! I am sos orry for being off the grid lately but I started my holidays around 13 days ago and just wanted a bit of a break. But, I am back now and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. The next one will include both FP2 and FP3 so let me know if you lot would like a sneak peak of that once I start writing it! Also, I'll be putting up a poll as well after this, so, look out for that! Anywho, enough from me, cya next time!

Tag list

@chaoswithus

[hysteria-things]

I KNOW REQUESTS R CLOSED BUT ONE DAY U SHOULD MAKE A MATT ANGST

DOUBTS

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when a huge inconvenience happens, matt doubts himself as a father.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ANGST/FLUFF, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,075

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’m not really good at angst and this feels rushed but i hope you like it😔

(dilf!matt au originally by @luvs4matt)

matt curses and slams his fingertips against his keyboard as he types, frustrated by everything that consists of his job. his boss, his coworkers, the work itself… he’s pissed. at this point he doesn’t know what he’s mad at anymore, but he just is.

you went home after dropping evelyn at school this morning, and matt told you not to worry about picking her up since he’s working from home today. his day consisted of meetings and phone calls that he’d rather die than do, and as if on queue, his phone started to ring. “jesus fucking christ.” he grumbles, swiping the answer button without looking at who it is. “hello?”

“hi, is this matthew sturniolo? evelyn’s dad?” the lady on the other line says with cheerfulness yet concern.

his eyebrows furrow, and he stops working completely to lean back in his office chair. he recognizes the voice as his daughter’s teacher, but she never calls him. evelyn does fantastic in school, and his blood feels cold when he starts to worry. “yeah, that’s me. is everything okay?”

“yes, yes, everything’s fine!” the woman reassures. “it’s just that…” she clears her throat like she’s nervous to spit it out. “nobody came to pick up evelyn today, and i was wondering if anybody is on the way.”

matt’s face falls, the silence deafening when the teacher waits patiently for a response. he glances over at the time, seeing that it’s 3:32. school got out a little over thirty minutes ago.

shit… shit.

being caught up in work all day made time fly by, and he didn’t bother to look at the clock at all. he has a deadline due at 4:00, and he won’t get it done in time if he goes to pick up ev.

fuck!

“mr. sturniolo?” the silence is broken after three slow minutes. “are you still there?”

“i’ll send her babysitter over.” he says gruffly. “she’ll be there soon.” before she can respond, matt hangs up and taps on your contact.

Y/N

I need you.

hello to you too

No, not like that.

I need you to pick Evelyn up from school.

matt

school ended almost forty minutes ago

You think I don’t know that?

I was so busy with work I lost track of time and I can’t pick her up now.

Please, y/n.

I’ll give you the money for it.

i don’t care about the money

i’m getting in my car now

Thank you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

when you arrive at the main doors of the elementary school, you smile at evelyn’s beaming face when she sees you. “y/n!” her backpack is as big as her, bouncing when she runs into your arms for a tight embrace. you take her hand and wave her teacher goodbye while you start walking to the car.

the ride back to the house is not even ten minutes, and you get a glimpse of matt sitting on the porch steps when you pull into the driveway. his hands are on his face, gripping his hair in stress. “i see daddy!” evelyn exclaims excitedly, unbuckling the top half of the car seat as she wiggles.

you giggle, putting the car in park. “let me stop moving, first.”

matt flinches, getting out of his trance when he feels tiny hands grab onto his knee. he lifts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting when he sees evelyn grunting as she tries to get on his lap. he helps her up, cradling the five-year-old in his arms as you approach. you drop her school bag on the ground, sitting next to matt, but keeping a distance.

he runs his fingers through his daughter’s brown curls before speaking. “have a good day today?”

“we colored a lot.” she nods along, swinging her legs. “mrs. quinn says i have a way with color.”

you can tell his mind is racing from his clenched jaw and bobbing of his adam’s apple as he swallows, staring down at evelyn to try and not show how upset he is in front of her. you see some chalk laid out by your vehicle. “hey, ev?” you grin when she looks at you, leaning your head to the bucket of chalk. “since you’re so good at drawing, why don’t you make a picture for me before i leave?”

it takes her a second to notice the chalk from afar, but then she hops down on the ground. “i’m going to make you a princess.” she states, jogging over to the sticks of rainbow shades.

matt beats you to it when she’s out of earshot, staring into space. “i’m a terrible father.”

“you’re not,” you say sternly, his sentence not fully out when you do.

your heart cracks at his words, and you look at him with sympathy. he’s knocking himself down over something so silly, but you can see how hurt he is even through his grumpy demeanor.

“i left my kid at school for almost an hour, y/n.” he argues back with some attitude, but you don’t take it personally. “no good parent does that.”

“it was one time.” you retort, moving closer to him a smidge. “don’t doubt yourself over something small like this. she was bubbly as hell when i grabbed her, and i honestly think she didn’t realize how long she was waiting. she was too distracted mingling with mrs. quinn.”

grumbling something under his breath, he looks over to evelyn who’s happily drawing all sorts of shapes and patterns onto the pavement. “look at that little girl over there and tell me she thinks the same.” you challenge, pointing at her.

he rolls his eyes at you, deep down knowing that you’re right. he’ll never admit it to your face, though. you then grab the unicorn backpack off the floor, unzipping it and reaching inside for something. “she explained the whole ride home about how she made this for you during her free time.” you pull out a piece of paper, unfold it, and hand it to him.

looking down, he runs his thumbs over the scribbled colors and rereads the message at least five times. you scan his face, seeing his eyes glossy and his lip gently quiver. it looks like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t.

she does have a way with color.

“you consist of a lot of things, matt.” your voice cracks, subtly rubbing his lower back. “but being a bad father isn’t one of them.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mattgirl4lyfe @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[maneaterluvr101]

FRANCIS FOREVER| PT.1

ART DONALDSON X READER

SYNOPSIS: In which Evelyn has idolised Art from the moment they first met, from his dirt blonde hair to his devotion to tennis, to the way he looks at her. Until the great tennis player, Tashi Duncans, catches the attention of her best friends, Patrick and Art. And as Tashi integrates into their once trio, she realises that her devotion has slowly turned into infatuation throughout the years.

WARNING: CHALLENGERS SPOILER, mature language, sexual themes, angst, slow burn, series.

Word Count: 3.4k

“Dr.Auclair?” The hostess confirming as she scanned the reservations list before looking up, the woman in front of her gave a nod.

She gave a polite smile before leading Evelyn to her seat with a light blush painted on her cheeks, dumbfounded by her looks.

Her heels clicked against the tile floor of the restaurant she had reserved at. Though busy, it felt as though the customers and worker’s eyes were on Evelyn the moment she entered the building.

Tuesdays night lights glimmered in dimly lit restaurant as her waitress led her to her seat with a calming view of the city, thanking her with a soft but genuine smile as she took her seat before looking down on her attire for the evening.

Evelyns day-to-day scrubs were no where to be seen, replaced with a simple but chic outfit that still hugged her body to perfection. And though she looked stunning and composed, her palms were sweaty and she felt like her heart was having palpitations as her pointer finger tapped the wooden table with a certain rhythm.

Anxious wouldn’t begin to describe how nervous she was to talk to the man she still thought about even after a decade of no communication.

STANFORD UNIVERSITY, 13 YEARS AGO.

“But Professor, you were the one who specifically instructed us to quote this extract when we’re faced with this question!” Evelyn spat as her manicured finger pointed to her script on the psychology lecturers desk.

To say that she was furious would be an understatement. For most of Evelyns life, academics had been the primary part of her existence. Never getting anything lower than an A was something she will forever pride herself in.

Until now.

As she faces her psychology professor with her brows furrowed in confusion and jaw clenched. Between the two was her first major psychology test of the semester with a large B written on it.

Professor Lynn slowly shaking his head as he pursed his lips. “There’s nothing I can do for you, Evelyn, the marking system has changed from the past few years,” he stated, as he tried to keep his composure.

Professor Lynn wasn’t unfamiliar of the infamous Evelyn Auclair. Every one of teachers had at least one story to tell about her. Like how she sat by Mrs Jackson table for 4 hours in a silent protest to change the book that they were assigned to read, as she said “This book is too elementary for the amount of money my parents pay for me to be here. Point blank.”

Whether good or bad, you’ve heard of Evelyn Auclair at least once.

Evelyn stays silent for what seems like forever as she tries her best not to curse him out, ‘He’s just trying to do his job, Eve. This isn’t personal and you shouldn’t raise your voice like that. It’s been 30 minutes since class has been over and your next class starts in 15. Come up with a solution quick,’

She thought to herself as she tapped her manicured pointer finger on his desk.

She nods her head slowly as she straightens her back, purposely connecting her eyes with his as she plastered a fake closed mouth smile.

“I'm sorry for lashing out on you like that. It was disrespectful and completely unnecessary, but please take into consideration the hard work i put into learning everything that you’ve taught us in psych and understand my frustration when the first B-” she pauses as she realizes her voice was getting louder.

Taking a deep breath in and releasing the air she continues, “when the first B I have ever gotten is a major exam which counts 45% of this semester mark” she finishes calmly.

They both stay silent for a moment, Professor Lynn trying to maintain the eye contact with Evelyn, to only look away after a moment of Evelyn intimidating eye contact.

With tension so thick you can cut it with a knife, Professor Lynn hesitantly nods his head as he lets out a sigh of exhaustion. “Okay, I'll recheck your paper, when I have the time to do so. How does that sound” he suggested weakly as he was convinced and mostly tired realizing that he had just spent 30 minutes arguing with Evelyn, ‘Who still looks like she can go for another 1 hour or two.’ Professor Lynn thought to himself

She paused for a moment, as she furrowed her brows and bit her bottom lip pretending to be deep in thought, when in actuality she knew this was the best she could get.

Finally, Evelyn nods with a neutral face, “Thank you, sir. I’ll take my leave now, enjoy the rest of your day” she offers him a soft genuine smile which he returns with a tired one.

And as she picks her bag up from the desk. She reaches for her phone in her front pocket, checking the time.

“Shit." she murmured as she practically ran out of class, she had 8 minutes left to reach her next class, which was Chem, on time.

As she sped walked through the practically empty corridors, she grabbed her phone once more to call one of her friends who shares the same classes as her, Amira.

‘Hopefully she can save me a seat in the first rows, I’m not sitting anywhere near the back. All the frat-’ Her thoughts interrupted as she bumped into someone. Almost dropping her phone in the process

“So-”

Ah.

And as she raised her head from her phone to utter out an apology, her brown eyes connected with hooded blue ones for just a moment before they looked away. It felt like, for a moment, everything had slowed down as she surveyed his appearance, taking notice of how he looked. He had almost mouse-like features, his well-kept eyebrows furrowed as he looked ahead jaw clenched. He had to be standing at, what seemed like at least 5'11 as he walked past not once looking back at her.

Finally snapping out her trance, Evelyn quickly realizing that she still hadn’t issued out her apology, "Sorry!", cringing at how loud she had sounded for some boy who didn't seem phased by the fact that she had bumped into him.

She stood there staring at the back of his form as it disappeared, fascinated by his aura, which has never happened. Most of her friends gush over boys, spewing all about how attractive they were just by how they carried themselves. Evelyn never truly understood what her friends meant by this, until now.

Almost as though she set a reminder for herself, her phone blared. Amira, read on the screen with a large print as clicked on the green button to answer.

“where are you? Class is about to start in 4 minutes,” an angry whisper inquired on the other line. Her and Evelyn had a few things in common, being punctual was one of them.

“Uh, yeah. Im almost there. Save me a seat?” she stuttered out as she began her speed walk to her next class.

It had been almost 2 weeks since the bump in with the stranger and Evelyn still thought about him.

And the more she thought about him, the more she seemed to look for him everyday. It also didn’t help that Amira had no idea who she was talking about as she stated, “Please, with the description that you gave me you just described 90% of the white boys in Stanford.”

So for now, Evelyn unconsciously settled on looking at every blonde curly head, her heart stammering hoping to find him only to be met with disappointment each time.

“Eve, you have got to join some sort of sport. You cant be waking up and breathing books every chance you get.” Amira currently tried to reason with her friend, as they sat in the cafeteria.

Evelyn shook her head as she scrunched up her face in confusion, “Why? It’ll just drain me as if Im not a premed student who isn’t already stressed by the shit ton of modules and tests i have this semester. Plus I’m a first year, i need to make this year count.” She stated before taking a bite of her apple.

The brown girl quick to respond, “That’s what Im saying! It’s your first year in college and all you can think about is books? C’mon, if not partying at least have yourself a hobby,” and before Evelyn could respond, Amira quickly shut it down. “And reading old literature doesn’t count as hobby.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she sighed.

“Right. Tell that to the book club which I was the president of in 10th Grade” she defended playfully with a grin.

“Im serious, Eve! I want you to enjoy your years in college.” Amira lectured as she stared at the girl whose only personality were her grades and fighting teachers because of her grades.

Evelyn sighing once more before forcing a small smile on her face, “I’ll look into some sports that don’t include ice, grass, water or having to grind or push up on anybody. How’s that?”

“Sounds like you crossed out 80% of sports by that list alone, but I’ll take what I can get.” Amira pointed out as she smiled at Eve, her eyes widened as she had an idea,

“There’s a match on Wednesday. Mens tennis with Fire and Ice playing, maybe you can accompany me?” suggested Amira with a wide smile.

And to quickly end this tedious topic of sports, Evelyn answered with a nod before changing the subject.

Wednesday had came too quickly for Evelyns liking as Amira dragged her to the tennis courts.

“This is going to be so fun! Aren’t you excited? I’m excited. Your first sports match that you’ve watched in college!” Amira babbled on as she walked past seated people, muttering out ‘excuse me’s’ between every 3rd to 4th word she said before finally sitting down in the 2nd row of bleachers right in the middle, Evelyn following suit.

“Im literally shaking out of excitement.” Evelyn narrated with faux enthusiasm as she lifted her hand towards Amira’s vision making sure her hand stood completely still.

Amira slapped her hand away making Evelyn giggle, rolling her eyes Amira was about to lecture Evelyn before her eyes caught onto the 2 boys on the court. “There they are, Fire and Ice.” Amiras manicured finger pointing to the two on the court.

And as Evelyn turned her head towards the court, her heart dropped as she realised who was on the court. Her stomach twisting as the mystery boy she had been looking for for the past two weeks had finally been found, She didn’t even know how to explain the emotions she felt when she stared at the dirt blonde who seemed to be in his own world as he stretched with his partner.

Her face must’ve given it away as she felt her friend nudge her slightly, “Theyre hot right? The brunette is Patrick Zweig, he doesn’t go to school here but he’s like really talented when it comes to tennis. he actually doesn’t go to school at all right now just doing him, i guess. I’d like to do him too but we can’t always get what we want. Then we have the blonde one,” Amira points towards him, glancing at Evelyn amused by how she seemed so invested in what Amira was saying, she leans towards Evelyn, “he’s Art Donaldson, he studies here at Stanford and is a year above us. Not sure in what he studies though, he’s got talent but not as comparable to Patricks. I feel like, and this is just my opinion, Art doesn’t really think that much of tennis as much as Patrick does. And-oh the match is starting.” Amira quick to shut her mouth as she watched the double match begin.

And as Patrick hit the first serve, Evelyn fell in love. Watching as the ball went back and forth between the two pairs, her lingering on Patrick and Art each time that hit the ball back. With each grunt and whimper that came with each stroke, the determination to win as both team’s faces are scrunched up with concentration. Evelyn cant help but lean forward as the direction of her head travelled with the ball.

And as this game played in front of her she couldn’t help but feel at peace though her palms sweated for the so called, “Fire and Ice” duo to win.

This was one of the reasons why she hated sports, it was simply unpredictable. It could reward you or leave you high or dry if it truly wanted to. Sports needed a certain type of trust from the viewers to the players, creating this bond that resembled a relationship between the viewer and the supporting team. And this match made her realise how right she was, but how oh so wrong she was to believe it was a bad to feel this way.

Her heart stammers as they were on the last set, the whole court quietly watching. And as Art served the last winning hit, Evelyn could help but stand up. “Let’s Go!” She screamed, her always composed self nowhere to be found, as some of the crowd also stood clapping.

And as she clapped she could’ve sworn she made eye contact with Art from across the court but that thought was interrupted as she felt Amira stand next pushing her playfully, “I’ve never seen you jump and scream like that before. Not even when you got first place in the Science Olympiad, looks like we’ve found your sport.” Amira teased with a grin. Evelyn smiling back at Amira as she felt light from the win of the game.

“We’ve definitely found my sport.”

Tennis was a shit sport.

Well thats what Evelyn thought everytime she couldn’t hit an ace or tripped on herself chasing the ball when she’d play with Amira. She hated not understanding something at the first try, so you can imagine her disdain when her first try turns into 4th, 4th turns into 10th and she still stumbling and missing the ball. Though she studied every video on the internet with famous tennis players and listened to each video on tennis terms for the past week, it felt like she knew nothing when she reached the court. But one thing that’ll forever remain true about Evelyn Auclair’s character was that she was no quitter.

She proved this point,as she walked inside the indoor tennis court with long strides in her tank top and tennis shorts reading the text from Amira stating that she’ll be running late. ‘When has she ever been on time?’ Evelyn questioned walking to their usual court, about to place her bag on one of the benches between the courts. And as she lifted up her head from her phone her movement came to a halt as she made eye contact with the match in front of her.

Art.

Her eyes landing on the dirt-blonde, her stomach immediately erupting with butterflies as she watched the match between him and Patrick. Though she had expected to see them here practicing sooner or later, she still felt shocked to see them. She stood in the middle of the courts bag still attached to her back completely forgetting about it, just observing the game in front of her.

Today’s practice courts were coincidentally empty , only housing the three and nobody else. So the only sounds heard where the two boys’ grunts and the ‘thwack!’ of the ball as it makes contact with the rackets.

And as the ball was passed between the two white boys, she noticed how precise Patricks serves were compared to Arts. Delivering accurate hits each time that had no clear formula to study but was simply driven by the determination to win at all cost necessary. She had also realized that she had walked in on their last set as Patrick delivered a perfect backhand that Art missed, crowning Patrick as the winner of the match.

Though Patrick won, Evelyn couldn’t help that her eyes were glued on Art after the game. How out of breathe he seemed to be and though he lost he still playfully smirked at Patrick as he walked towards him, his sweat glistening on his skin in the brightly lit court,his tongue darting to moisture his lips.

His eyes focused on Patrick who greeted him with a sly smile as he pulled Arts arm towards him, creating little distance between themselves, wiping Arts face as he began saying something that Evelyn couldn’t quite catch before lightly tapping Arts face. As he took a few slow steps backwards creating distance between themselves grinning ear to ear before turning completely around walking off the court and seemingly towards Evelyn direction.

Evelyns hands sweaty as she watches Art following behind Patrick rolling his eyes, saying something she still couldn’t decipher with a smug grin. Walking closer, Evelyn realising that they were literally walking directly towards her. She looked around for Amira as she was still nowhere to be found, only making eye contact with the bags that were placed messily on a bench near her.

Oh

She stood right next to their bags so obviously they’d be heading in her direction. She internally rolled her eyes as she thought of how delusional she was for almost thinking that they were coming to her. Evelyn stood and watched them walk past her to their bags paying her no mind as they continued to chat amongst themselves.

“Cmon Art, that backhand serve was cinematic, admit it!” boasted Patrick as he shoved his items into his bag, Art doing the same with a ghost smile while listen to the brunette ramble on about their match.

And as Art picked up his bag, he locked eyes with Evelyn, maintaining eye contact for a moment before politely smiles at her.

And even though it was just a smile that had no real intentions behind it, at that moment Evelyn experienced feelings she felt the first time she had watched them play. The indescribable emotions she felt that day came rushing back.

Evelyn smiles back almost immediately, her dimple making an appearance, clutching the strap of her bag.

“You were amazing,” she blurts out catching the attention of both boys, she internally cringes at how direct and poorly she worded that,straightening her back as she corrects herself. “in the game that you just played obviously. And last week’s double match. You both were.” She states darting her eyes to Patrick for just a moment before her eyes went back to Art as she couldn’t seem to keep them from the dirt blonde.

Smiling softly Art utters out a thank you about to say something else interrupted by Patrick wrapping his arm around Arts shoulder with a cocked head and toothy grin.

“You’re too kind. i actually thought this game was horrible. In particular, this asshole was half assing it the whole game” Art just rolls his eyes, shoving him off him. Patrick paying him no mind as he placed his hand on his chest with the same grin,“Im Patrick.” introducing himself even though he knew that she was aware of who they were by the glint in her eyes. “And this is Art.” he stated, pointing to his best friend.

“I saw you last week at our game. You were the one who screamed ‘Lets Go!’ right?” Patrick questioned as he stared with amusement at Evelyn, who nodded with an embarrassed smile on her face. “Never heard anyone shout like that at any of our games.” Patrick stated,smiling he continues, “I didn’t catch your name by the way.”

And with a small smile and a heated face, she softly introduced herself,

“Evelyn.”

CURRENTLY,

“Evelyn?”

Evelyns head slowly lifted up to the source of her name, to be met with the same hooded blue eyes she fell in loved with.

taglist: @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @killjoycrashkitty @ms-longbeach @literarydesire @n-slayaaaaa @jesuistrestriste @theitgirlnetwork @gcfshyegi @londonnnnnnnnnn @lietomevpr @saintwrld @bambisbamboo404

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty seven

prompt: teeth pairing: lando/oscar word count: 665 a/n: set in the single dad!lando/engineer!oscar universe. you can find more of this universe here and here

“Alright, kiddo, time to brush your teeth.” Oscar’s voice filters through the open door of the bathroom as Lando makes his way into their hotel room. He was running late, and he’s glad Oscar had the time to get Evelyn to the hotel room and to bed as quickly as possible. They try to maintain some kind of semblance of normalcy and structure in Evelyn’s day to day life, but it’s hard, sometimes.

“Dad says that if I brush my teeth every day that they will turn pearly white and the sun will reflect off of them,” Evelyn says, voice turning up in excitement in the end, and Lando grins as he drops his bag on the couch in the middle of the hotel room, pictures her facial expression, eyes no doubt big in wonder.

“Well, I’m not sure that’s possible,” Oscar says. “But we can try?”

“Trying is important,” Evelyn says sagely. “Oscar, can I ask a question?”

“Sure, Eve, always,” Oscar replies. Lando’s on the brink of making his presence known, moving towards the bathroom, but something withholds him. Curiosity, about what Evelyn will ask. About how Oscar will answer.

 “Who are you?”

“Ah,” Oscar says. “Well, I’m many things. Happy, for starters.” Lando’s heart does a little jump.

“No,” Evelyn says. “That’s not what I mean. I mean like. You are with dad, right? And you take care of me too, so. Are you also dad?”

“Oh,” Oscar says. “That’s a good question.”

They haven’t talked about this, not really. Sure, they talked about what it would mean, to be together, to raise Evelyn together, what their future would look like. But not this. Not if Evelyn should call Oscar dad, or papa, or whatever else. Lando bites his lip, goes to intervene, when Oscar speaks up again.

“Do you want me to be dad?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” Evelyn says, clearly deep in thought. “Can I try it?”

“Of course, bug,” Oscar says.

“Dad, can you please help me brush my teeth?” There’s a pause, and then. “No, no, no, that felt really weird.”

“Well, you don’t have to. You can call me whatever you want,” Oscar says.

Evelyn seems to think about this. “Can I just call you Oscar? But you are still my dad. But your dad name is just Oscar.”

“I think I can work with that, yeah,” Oscar says. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” Evelyn says decidedly. “Oscar, can you help me brush my teeth?”

“Always, kiddo,” Oscar says.

Deciding the moment must be over, Lando finally makes his presence known, steps into the bathroom, where Evelyn is trying to squeeze toothpaste onto the sparkly Disney princess toothbrush Oscar is holding out for her. “Hey,” he says.

“Dad!” Evelyn says, dropping the toothpaste in her haste to go hug Lando, letting it clatter down into the sink. Oscar picks it up with an amused look on his face as Lando pulls Evelyn into a hug, picking her up off the floor and giving her a little spin.

“Hey, love. Have you been good?”

“The bestest,” Evelyn says, as Lando carries her back over to the sink, leans over to press a soft kiss to Oscar’s lips. “Oscar and I have decided that you are dad and he is Oscar.”

Oscar meets his eyes over Evelyn’s head, a silent question presence in them. “That’s awesome,” Lando says, to Evelyn as much as to Oscar. “Alright, go let your Oscar help you with brushing your teeth. I’ll go read you a story later.”

“Yay,” Evelyn says, and then takes the toothbrush from Oscar’s hand. “I love you,” she says.

“Love you too,” Lando and Oscar say, at the exact same time. Their eyes meet again, over Evelyn’s head, and Lando smiles at Oscar, soft and fond, and hopes that it conveys everything he’s feeling about his little family right now. By the way Oscar smiles back, equally soft and fond, he thinks it does.

[cafemilk-tea]

Dispatch has confirmed 2024’s first couple: Mingyu and Evelyn of SEVENTEEN!

According to media outlet ‘Dispatch’, the couple has been together since April 2022.

An insider reports that the couple were friendly with each other more than just as team members in the past and have grown strong feelings towards one another.

The insider continues that their most frequent meeting place is that of Evelyn’s secured place of residence just outside of Seoul. The couple has been seen out late at night walking Evelyn’s dog around the town with their hands joined together, sharing an occasional kiss with one another.

Pledis Entertainment has yet to respond to the reports.

a few hours later

(BREAKING PLEDIS Entertainment confirms the relationship between SEVENTEEN’s Mingyu and Evelyn)

Earlier this morning, the news outlet Dispatch had reported that SEVENTEEN’s Evelyn and Mingyu were in a relationship since April 2022. Pledis Entertainment has now responded to the reports as reported below:

Hello, this is Pledis Entertainment.

We can happily confirm that our artists SEVENTEEN EVELYN and SEVENTEEN MINGYU are confirmed to be meeting with good feelings. We ask that you can respect their decision and continued support.

Netizens have mixed reviews about the confirmation as shown below:

• “That’s really crazy! Good for them!”

• “I don’t know if I’m more shocked by their relationship or by Pl*dis actually responding to the rumors.”

• “All the haters can actually eat dogshit. They are happy together, leave them alone.”

• “She’s doing it for attention and using being the only girl in the group as an excuse.”

• “I’m actually surprised he wants her like that.”

• “Kim Mingyu I’m disappointed you can do better.”

• “What a b***h! Why would she date one of her group members? Disgusting.”

• “Please they look so good together!”

• “Now which staff member leaked this information.”

• “I don’t know who I want to be more, Eunji or Mingyu. Either way, I’m so jealous.”

🏷️ : @justmochi @ateezjuliet @itzy-eve @cosmicwintr @billboard-singer @kimhyejin3108 @cixrosie @enhacolor @allthings-fandoms @mingis-wrld @kmgfeels @peachyaeger @alixnsuperstxr @choihaneul

(pls note that this is in fact FICTION and none of this is real!)