#fly my pretties 💕

[posh--bee]

i'm losing it (all i get is jealousy, jealousy) || Aaron Hotchner

pairing → Aaron Hotchner x Reader

summary → You're out on a Friday night, sitting around a table in a cozy bar, enjoying your fruity drink and the presence of your newfound friends in the form of your father's team. But then Derek just has to open his mouth and ruin your night when he mentions her.

warnings → fem!reader, rossi!reader, reader has rossi's last name, (unspecified) age gap, reader being pretty self-deprecating here oopsieee (anxiety, keep on tryin' me…), Spencer and Beth mentioned as romantic interests for reader and Aaron, jealousy jealousy~, misunderstandings, they're still head over heels for each other, but don't talk about it, Spencer being an absolute sweetheart, no y/n used

author's note → This part started out as a kind of prelude to my actual idea for part 2—the gala. But then this scene just developed a life of its own and I decided to just make the cut to really be able to focus on the gala in the next part. A huge thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged and commented on the first part!! 💕 I appreciate each and every single interaction so much and it's such a huge motivation to keep me writing because I simply cannot operate on internal motivation alone. That being said, I had so much fun writing this part so let me know what you think about it!^^ I hope you like it <3 (Title, obviously, from "jealousy, jealousy" by Olivia Rodrigo.)

word count → 4.6k

masterlist(s)

series masterlist || part 1 - ⋆part 2⋆ - part 3 coming soon-ish :3

It's a busy Friday night in November for the little bar tucked away in a corner of the city's Downtown district, the bell above the front door tinkling gently every other minute as people exit and enter the cozy but slightly stuffy establishment.

The soft sound of the melting ice cubes clinking against the glass of your drink is almost drowned out by the buzzing atmosphere of the bar as you absentmindedly stir the watered-down remainder of your once fruity and colorful cocktail. You hear the sound of car tires rolling over the wet pavement outside as the door opens again and it seamlessly blends with the ambiance of the bar—music playing over ancient speakers hidden in the corners of the room, people talking and laughing loudly, cheerfully, glasses clinking faintly and chairs scraping over the already worn floor.

Your cheeks are not only warm and glowing from the temperature inside the bar, bravely fighting off the chill from beyond the old brick walls, but also from the alcohol in your system that makes you feel pleasantly buzzed and relaxed. You make yourself even more comfortable on the—admittedly pretty hard and bum-numbing—bench you're sitting on, accidentally nudging Emily next to you who immediately retaliates by playfully shoving you back, a huge grin on her face.

You stick your tongue out at her, giggling at the betrayed face she makes as her hands fly up to her heart—but the rest of her dramatic display is immediately lost on you when you catch sight of Aaron from across the table, listening to something Spencer is animatedly explaining to him, and your stomach does a lovesick little flip.

Tonight, instead of his usual suits and button-downs he's dressed in a black polo shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans, and when he walked through the bar's door earlier this evening you spontaneously forgot how to breathe. It's embarrassing how something as simple as casual clothes can make your heart stutter in your chest when it comes to him, but you can't help it. Especially when his strong arms usually hidden by long-sleeved shirts and suit jackets are shamelessly on display for your viewing pleasure, his forearms casually resting on the table with his fingers interlocked loosely, drawing your eyes to them like a desperate moth to a forbidden flame.

The dim light of the bar only accentuates his handsome and sharp features, the smile lines at the corners of his mouth and the crow's feet around his eyes a beautiful constant of his face at the moment. If you're not careful you could probably drown in the gentle warmth of his brown irises.

Of course, as it was bound to happen eventually, Aaron catches you staring at him so openly, his kind eyes suddenly locked with your startled ones and you quickly duck your head in mortification, heat crawling up your neck, your cheeks and ears already on fire.

It's been four months since the pool incident, the I almost kissed my father's friend and boss I only just met after making him fall in the pool with me incident, and since then these completely inconvenient and utterly inappropriate feelings you caught for Aaron that very day haunt you relentlessly, persistently, only getting stronger with each and every time you see him again.

You cringe inwardly, the whole day burned into your mind forever, the memory of it all still painfully vivid, especially of your inexcusable and humiliating behavior, and the urge to just slip underneath the table and hide there until the end of time gets overwhelming for a moment. You hope your face doesn't show the embarrassment and regret welling up inside of you as the memories from that day replay in your mind for the millionth time, as if you didn't already spend these last few months obsessing over what had happened—dissecting every single word spoken between the two of you, analyzing and weighing even the slightest change of Aaron's expressions and tone until it's the middle of the night and you're half delirious with the lack of sleep.

You're not sure what your overthinking mind tries to archive with this, except torture you during your waking hours and curse you with anxious insomnia at nighttime, making you embarrass yourself in front of Aaron again and again whenever you see him now, stumbling over your words and acting like a lovesick school girl with a cute but laughable little crush.

It would be almost adorable if it weren't so ridiculously sad.

Because, in the end, all you'll ever be to him is that—his friend's daughter who caught completely inappropriate feelings for him and doesn't know how to deal with them like an adult.

You're too young for him, too inexperienced, too immature. Anxious and naive, plain and uninteresting, book-smart at best with no experience of how the real world actually works.

Spoiled and never had to work for all the nice and expensive things in life that you experience and own, not with a father as well off as yours.

Your doctorate a pretty little achievement to show off now and then but amounting to nothing in the grand scheme of things, in the world outside your fancy lab and brilliantly white lab coat. You hide behind your microscopes day in, day out, behind your Petri dishes and test tubes, behind your statistics and test results, comfortably able to overlook the fact that in the end, you're dealing with death, the oftentimes brutal loss of human life—the life of a real person—while there are people like Aaron and your father and the rest of their team out there, risking their lives, their mental well-being to bring peace to the bereaved, haunting these monsters that stole the rest of their entire lives from their victims. These agents work tirelessly, traveling all over the country at a moment's notice, spending their days and nights away from home solving cases no one else but them could, one more dangerous and complex than the next, and not stopping before they do, without complaining, without expecting anything in return.

But you? You simply come home after a day of work to your cozy and spacious apartment that you only found and are able to afford because of your father, slipping on mismatched fuzzy socks and a shirt and pajama pants whose patterns clash mercilessly, eating frozen pre-made meals or take-out food more often than not while turning off your brain in front of the TV or your laptop screen, drinking the expensive wine your dad bought out of mugs because your dishwasher is broken and you didn't have the energy to wash the dishes for multiple days in a row.

It's painfully obvious that Aaron and you live in completely different worlds, your lives ridiculously incompatible, so it doesn't come as a surprise that all your overthinking and obsessing and dissecting only ever leads to one final conclusion—

You will never be good enough for Aaron Hotchner.

As much as it hurts to admit this, your heart clenches painfully whenever you have to remind yourself of this inescapable fact—when the wishful thinking and the juvenile daydreaming become a little too self-indulgent—you know it's the truth.

And the sooner you and your hopelessly romantic little heart can make peace with it the better. Because whatever you thought he saw in you or felt for you that perfect summer day was only an illusion, a trick your overactive mind played on you so cruelly. Someone like Aaron Hotchner could never reciprocate your silly feelings for him, the spark you imagined igniting between the two of you back then was merely a sad one-sided, and completely inappropriate infatuation. You probably didn't look entirely unappealing in your skimpy little bikini that clung to your wet and glowing skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination, so at least you didn't make up everything you thought happened that day, the brief flicker of attraction in his eyes as they roamed over your naked skin flattering and enough to send your heart into a frenzy, but ultimately meaningless, an involuntary and wholly physical reaction of his. And you know better than to let it go to your head; your reflection—plain and boring and strikingly average—setting you right when it pointedly stares back at you in the mirror as you study it on any normal day.

It really comes as no surprise then that after the whole pool incident, Aaron kept a deliberate distance from you whenever the two of you would meet afterwards, still smiling at you cordially, asking about your new job, your new apartment, your research, but never talking to you on your own, only ever when other people are part of the conversation too. And you're not delusional enough to not be aware of the fact that he's simply entertaining you out of politeness, a courtesy he's only showing you because you're the daughter of a friend.

Anxiety presses heavily against your chest when you think about how uncomfortable you must make him with your poorly hidden infatuation for him, how painful it must be for him to see you act like a pathetic fool in front of him, and all of a sudden your heart is thudding painfully against your ribcage, your pulse ringing in your ears, your breath leaving you in short little gasps—

"Hey, are you okay?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Spencer's kind ones, slightly widened with worry, but not like you expected from across the table where he sat when you last looked up. Instead, he's beside you, sliding next to you onto the bench, his face twisted into a frown and his brown eyes searching yours intensely. For a long moment, all you can do is stare back at him, wondering, with burning ears, just how long you spaced out for.

"Do you need to go outside for a moment? I could go with you if you want."

His words effortlessly pull you out of your anxious spiral and after briefly and earnestly considering his offer you shake your head, exhaling a shaky breath that thankfully eases some of the thightness in your chest.

You flash him a grateful little smile before answering, "No, it's okay. Thank you, though."

You unlatch your stiff and cold fingers from where they are still gripping your cocktail glass like a lifeline, wiping off the condensation that's left behind on your palms on your jeans. "My mind just… went a little crazy there for a moment, you know?"

The silly jazz hands that accompany your explanation catch Spencer off guard and he lets out a spluttered laugh that makes you grin in return. You feel yourself relax further just by having him sit beside you, and even more so when he regains enough composure to softly tell you, "I get it. Just take your time."

You're glad the others are all too absorbed in their own conversations as you glance around the table. It allows you to simply concentrate on taking calm and deep breaths as you listen to Spencer launch into a detailed analysis of the last episode of Doctor Who he watched, his expressive hands a worthy rival of your jazz hands.

(Too absorbed by all of this, you don't notice how Aaron is watching you and Spencer from across the table with narrowed eyes, or how Garcia urgently and repeatedly slaps Morgan's arm who's sitting next to her, gleefully nodding her head in the direction of the two of you, not even trying to be subtle about showing off her delightful discovery, or the slow smirk forming on the other man's lips at the incredibly intimate sight of you and your fellow young doctor completely absorbed by your own little nerdy conversation.)

With Spencer jumping from topic to topic, one more fascinating but obscure than the previous, your heart rate slowly lowers from the level of a prey animal being hunted for sport to that of the young woman enjoying a carefree Friday night with a group of friends that you are, happily piping up with your own contributions and fun facts when the genius next to you runs out of air during his endearing ramblings.

When you first moved back to DC after finishing your doctorate you were nauseous with nerves about meeting new people and making friends, worried that you would spend every weekend at your father's place, sipping his fancy wine from a glass while perched on the cold marble of his kitchen countertops, just watching him cook an elaborate dinner from his mother's collection of family recipes, asking if he wants any help with it and being pointedly reminded of what happened last time you were in his kitchen unsupervised. That's not to say that you don't love spending time with your dad—because you really, really do and you're more than happy to be living in the same city as him again, to be able to just hop into your car and drive to his house (sorry, mansion) whenever you feel like seeing him—but you would prefer if your entire social life didn't only revolve around him and your new place of work.

But when your father introduced you to his team during a dinner he hosted and you were immediately integrated into their little work family, every single one of them talking to you like they've known you for years—which it probably feels like to them considering how much your dad talks (brags) about you and your achievements—you felt silly about wasting so much time worrying about nothing at all. Not when there were all these wonderful people just eagerly waiting to meet and get to know you in person. You've never received such a warm and heartfelt welcome ever before in your life and for a few minutes you even completely forgot to agonize over the fact that during that dinner you were also seeing Aaron again for the first time since you fell for him—after literally making him fall in the pool with you.

And now, some months later, summer is only a faint memory anymore and even autumn slowly but surely making way for winter, the team happily invited you to their little end-of-another-crazy-week-catching-serial-killers get-together just like you've always been part of their group—and despite your father not even being with you at the moment.

(Because dear ol' dad ditched you in favor of a reservation at some fancy and exclusive restaurant uptown where he's currently busy working on stepmom number 3—or was it 4?)

(Honestly? You lost count.)

(You didn't. You just love to tease him with it.)

You glance around the table, looking at the happy faces of these wonderful people you're privileged to call your friends, a content smile forming on your face and a pleasantly warm feeling blooming at the very center of your chest. You can't believe how lucky you are to have been welcomed into their tight-knit group readily and with open arms, making uprooting the only life that you've known for the past ten years to move halfway across the country to a city you're not familiar with anymore so much less daunting, helping you to settle in immediately by inviting you to literally anything that they do outside of work.

(Aaron being an integral part of the group makes these casual and carefree meetups decidedly not as casual and carefree for you as you'd like, constantly putting your foot in your mouth around him or figuratively (and sometimes even literally) curling up into a pathetic ball of anxiety when he so much as looks at you. But you're working on that, you really are, learning to come to terms with your unrequited feelings for him which is not exactly going great—if tonight is any indicator of that—but eventually, you'll be able to act like the totally well-adjusted young woman you aspire to be around him.)

(… at least you hope you do.)

You're especially grateful to have met Spencer through the BAU team because if any person out there can be described as your platonic soulmate, it's him. In just four months the young genius has become one of the best friends you've ever made in your life—the two of you just immediately clicking after he refused to shake your hand when your father introduced you to him. You're close in age and if your passionate involvement in academics didn't make you connect instantly your shared interest in everything nerdy and niche definitely did.

You're even more grateful to have him by your side whenever you're confronted with your walking kryptonite that is Aaron Hotchner. You can count on Spencer to sense whenever you get too lost in your own head and to always bring you back to reality, even though he doesn't know that his boss is the cause of most of your anxiety-induced breakdowns—thankfully.

(Ordering food at a place you've never been to before is a strong second contender for that title, by the way.)

You smile at Spencer when he leans closer to you, his voice dropping to a soft whisper so only you can hear him when he gently asks, "Are you feeling any better now?"

In a playful display of your gratitude you nudge his shoulder with yours before nodding your head, answering truthfully, "I am. Thank you, Spence," and letting your hand fall to his arm and gently squeeze it through the soft fabric of his cardigan.

You don't notice how, from across the table, Aaron is so fixated on this simple, purely platonic gesture that he visibly flinches when Morgan scoots over to him on the bench and slings a heavy arm around his shoulder, a wide smirk that's all teeth and mischief splitting his face in half as he addresses his superior. He knows he only gets away with his cheeky nonchalance because of the laid-back and moderately tipsy state all of you are currently in—and isn't above shamelessly exploiting this.

"Hotch, my man. So about that fancy gala next week—"

That fancy gala Morgan so casually refers to is the FBI Agents Association—FBIAA for short—Gala that is hosted once a year on a random Thursday in November in the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center in downtown Washington. It's a fundraising event for the Association's charities, one of them being a fund that would've paid your college tuition if your father had—you feel sick even thinking about it—died while employed by the Bureau, and the whole BAU team, and you as their honorary member, have unanimously decided to attend it together.

And although you were pretty excited about it when Garcia brought the gala up, delighted by the opportunity to dress up for one evening and sip champagne out of crystal flutes while watching the different speakers up on the stage but actually listening to the BAU team's gossip about each and every one of them, the mention of it now makes your stomach drop abruptly.

Your grip on Spencer's arm tightens involuntarily because you know what the next words coming out of Morgan's stupid grinning mouth will be, you were dreading them since setting foot in this bar, were hoping against all hope that at least tonight you would be spared from hearing about her.

"—you didn't happen to run into that triathlon lady—"

"Beth," Garcia helpfully pipes up while casually fishing for the straw of her drink and taking a sip from the most blindingly colorful cocktail you've ever seen in your life.

"—Beth—again, did you? Because a little birdie told me that she would love to be your date for that evening if you just asked her."

Your stomach twists into several painful knots and you quickly reach for your own glass to drown the rest of your cocktail-flavored cold water, hoping it'll wash down the ugly and burning jealousy rising like bile in your throat.

But it doesn't, and you're stuck listening to a conversation you desperately don't want to be a part of, that awful green-eyed monster sinking its sharp claws mercilessly into your tender skin all the while.

Derek's smug grin only grows wider at the unimpressed stare his nosiness earns him from his supervisor, which gives sweet Garcia enough time to voice her enthusiastic agreement, her artfully manicured nails tapping giddily against the tall glass in front of her.

"You should really ask her, you know!"

She's not brave enough to add the well-meaning but meddlesome "You need to get out some more, have some fun and meet more people instead of wasting away in your office every day and night!" that is on the tip of her usually so ungovernable and free-spirited tongue. And even less so the "Getting laid once in a while would probably do you some good, help you relax!" that her brain unpromptedly and unsolicitedly supplied her with one day and has lived rent-free in her head since then.

And before Derek has the chance to actually say these words out loud (and give you the chance to volunteer yourself as a very willing and tragically desperate tribute), you simply stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom, cowardly but effectively fleeing the scene of the crime.

But you're too hasty, stumbling over Spencer's stupidly long legs in your hurry to get away from this excruciating conversation, too impatient to just wait for him to get up and let you out. The young genius mirrors your noise of surprise but unlike yourself he is quick enough to catch you, thankfully saving you from falling flat on your face (or landing on his lap) in front of the whole BAU team and the rest of the packed bar by urgently grabbing onto your waist to stabilize you.

You lock wide eyes with him, stunned into silence and stillness for a moment before the two of you let out matching awkward little giggles, Spencer immediately pulling his hands back and shoving them between his knees while mumbling an apology that you quickly and equally mumbled dismiss before briskly making your exit to the safe haven that is the ladies' restroom without looking back.

(You can't know that you and your little stunt just saved Aarom from even having to consider how to reply to Morgan's and Garcia's intrusive curiosity as the two peas in a pod immediately stick their nosy noses right into Spencer's alleged love life.

"And you, pretty boy, should really hurry up and ask our dear Doctor Rossi out."

Derek grins smugly from across the table at the clueless young genius who whips his head around, startled by suddenly being forced into the center of attention of their group, his voice rising in panic.

"What? Why?"

"Why?" Penelope parrots back at Spencer, looking at him like he just asked her if fezzes are cool or why people have been shipping Captain James T. Kirk and his First Officer S'chn T'gai Spock since the 60s. "Because you're literally so perfect for each other? You like the same geeky stuff, you're both young geniuses and doctors, you're always talking about some obscure studies and how little creepy-crawlies can help us and our friends in forensics catch the bad guys, and you're literally solving crossword puzzles in the newspaper together like an old married couple?"

She uses her fingers to list and illustrate her arguments, her fierce gaze boring into Spencer's round eyes who uneasily shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and closing in silent protest.

"Should I go on? I can go on," she challenges, not even waiting for anyone to disagree or agree with her. "She instantly remembered how you like your coffee, you were comfortable with letting her touch you immediately and you also—"

"What Garcia is trying to say," Derek gently interrupts his friend so she doesn't run out of air completely while squeezing her shoulder, "is that the two of you are made for each other and that the gala is the perfect opportunity to ask her on a date, boy genius."

Spencer splutters helplessly, looking around the table for support, a spontaneous change of the topic, a family emergency, anything, but the other three agents stay silent. JJ just smiles at him in amused sympathy, decidedly not disagreeing with anything that was said while Emily shrugs her shoulders with a Cheshire cat's grin on her lips, simply enjoying the chaos unfolding in front of her.

Hotch's face on the other hand is completely devoid of emotion, not giving away any thoughts or feelings he may have about the current topic of conversation and gentle teasing.

(But if any of these usually so oberservant profilers had given him and his strained passive face a closer look they would've noticed that his jaw is clenched tightly enough to literally break it if he's not careful.)

"That's not—! That doesn't mean anything. We're just friends!" Spencer squeaks as his last, very weak resort. And he actually means it, knowing that it's simply the truth, that everything between you and him is purely platonic and that the both of you are happily in agreement about it, but his pleas fall on deaf ears.

"Sure you are," Derek hums while raising his beer bottle to his lips as Penelope next to him cheerfully sing-songs, "Doctor Reid and Doctor Rossi sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n—"

They don't pay Hotch any mind when he stands up and excuses himself as well.)

They also miss when you exit the ladies' room at the other end of the large room at the same time, your head ducked with the remnants of your earlier jealousy still simmering uncomfortably in your stomach.

You wince when the unfiltered noise of the bar and all of its mostly tipsy patrons hit you all at once, trying your hardest not to get too close to these countless strangers when you push your way back to the table near the entrance where your friends set up camp at the beginning of the night.

You keep your eyes on the wooden floor, cringing as the soles of your shoes come in contact with an especially sticky spot when a solid body collides with you without warning.

A startled yelp escapes you, the impact enough to make you stumble, but for the second time tonight you don't land on the floor thanks to someone catching you just in time, a big and warm hand closing firmly around yours and pulling you closer to his warm and solid chest.

The slurred apology of the man who bumped into you promptly fades into the background, just like the rest of the noisy bar, as your gaze snaps up to where you see Aaron already looking down at you, his brown eyes unreadable, his lips set into a thin line.

Immediately, your cheeks go up in flames, the butterfly wings in your stomach transforming into an all-consuming hurricane, and you can't do anything except stare into his eyes with barely hidden longing and quietly stammer your thanks while your hand is still held protectively in his bigger one, your body still pressed closely to his chest.

But Aaron doesn't say anything in reply, his eyes simply fixed on yours while your heart slams against your ribcage traitorously.

Overwhelmed, you have to avert your gaze from Aaron's and that's when he abruptly lets go of you and walks away without a word, leaving you standing in the middle of the crowded room, his comforting warmth disappearing as suddenly as he did.

(You're too busy blinking in bewildered surprise to see the rigid line of his broad shoulders or the pained expression on his face as he forces himself not to turn around and look back at you.

Or the way his hand that just moments before held yours flexes by his side.)

series masterlist || part 1 - ⋆part 2⋆ - part 3 coming soon-ish :3

Thank you so much for reading <3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

Feel free to hop into my inbox if you have a fic request or just want to talk ✨

dividers by @/cafekitsune

Tags <3

@iyskgd, @johnp0rk1988, @baddyg, @gfksz, @little-jana, @khxna, @kcch-ns, @softestqueeen, @chenellearose, @chaosofmanyfandoms

[calocreek]

OK here it is, a ton of 'production' stuff for the Hot Guy Comic Zine! I've never been part of a project like this. Even though I was working on my comic mostly solo (shout-out to my editor Violet!), the world-building and story arc planning was completely collaborative. For example:

We started out on the world-building by voting on character's superpowers! Plenty of powers were almost unanimously agreed on, but Cuteguy was a HUGE campaign. We were pretty much 50/50 split between can fly/can't fly. Propaganda was exchanged LOL, like this piece where I campaigned for limited flying capabilities 😂 And thats what we ended up settling on!

From there we worked on a ton of brainstorming/world-building that I mostly spectated with an occasional doodle like these haha. I'm new to such elaborate AUs!

Pitch time!! I had pitches for each era and they were all pretty light and banter-y, so my year 1 pitch ended up fitting the vibe the best. My original pitch was 'HG + CG learn some key things about each other and plan to set up a base they can use together.' But when I started my script, I got really caught up in how they were navigating a partnership without knowing each others identities. The more I wrote through that, the more I wanted my story to be ABOUT that! So thats where my script started coming together.

Designs! I'm definitely not a confident costume designer. I was trying to go for low-tech + practical since it was early in their careers, and of course, easy to draw 😂

Process went more or less like this! Full color comics take a LONG TIME but it was a total labor of love. I had the graffiti bgs in mind from the very start since I knew it was dialogue heavy, I wanted to make sure the art was interesting and worth spending time looking at. Oh lord did I get carried away. I'm OBSESSED with the symbolism the fandom has put to the life series and so I tried to sneak in as much meaningful symbolism as possible. AND THE RESULT:

Guess I did pretty well! 😂😂😂

Anyway, I can't overstate how proud I feel to have gotten to work on this project. My whole goal as a hobbyist is to get to work with other artists I look up to and respect so this was a dream come true! Thank you everyone for reading, for 15k downloads (!!!), and for just being an awesomely creative fandom space to make art in! I hope to do more stuff like this again some day 💕

[piastri-fvx]

Fool for you. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x model!reader, smau

Summary: When y/n and Lando are on vacation together and Lando is acting like the down bad boyfriend he is.

Word Count: 970+

Face claim: sabrina carpenter & girls from pinterest!!

Disclaimer/s: None, just a tiny bit of teasing/bickering and obviously Lando being down bad!!

A/N: Third storyyy, here we goooo!! Hope u enjoy <333 let me know if you have requests or you want to be on my permanent tag list!!!

♡ Masterlist ♡

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

@yourusername

liked by landonorris, pietra.pilao, logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 3.492.691 others

yourusername f1 summer break incomingggg

| view all comments...

user1 obsessed with the lando boyfriend content

-> user2 you're so real for that

oscarpiastri i can hear lando giggling in the room next to the one i'm in liked by creator

-> user3 probably kicking his feet

-> user4 lando's like a teenage girl with a crush 😭🙏

-> user5 no but like he basically is

user6 lando norizz in one... two... three..

landonorris my beautiful beautiful girlfriend 😍😍😍 liked by creator

-> yourusername 💕

-> landonorris i miss youuuuu

-> yourusername i'm sitting next to you??

-> landonorris yes but there's like a few centimeters between us 😣

-> maxfewtrell simp

-> georgerussell63 simp

-> alex_albon simp

-> estebanocon simp

-> yukitsunoda0511 simp

-> pietra.pilao model for a reason 🥰 liked by creator

-> yourusername miss you so much, my love!!

-> pietra.pilao you and lando need to come to london soon and visit max and i liked by creator

-> yourusername definitely!!

-> landonorris nooooo 🙁

-> maxfewtrell we don't get a say in this?

-> user6 no, let the girls be girls, lmao

user7 okay but she is literally stunning 😍

-> landonorris she issss 🥰 liked by creator

logansargeant yoooooo liked by creator

-> yourusername oh... hi 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

-> user8 my girl saw an american and thought eagle 😭

user9 pretty girllll

@landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, mclaren, nicolassturniolo, taylorswift and 4.385.591 others

landonorris summer vacation with the prettiest girl in the world (she wanted to keep the kittens) 🥰

| view all comments...

user1 i love him for posting the chaotic pics

user2 i'm not sure if i wanna be lando or y/n

-> user3 real. they're both so lucky

-> user4 most attractive couple fr fr

user15 i don't want the relationship if it's not like lando and y/n

taylorswift deserved resttt ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername and your songs are on repeat 💋

-> user5 lando and y/n are giving so high school/ sparks fly

-> user6 omg true

user7 true love doesn't exist if they don't get married one day liked by creator

-> landonorris 🤭

-> user8 IS THIS SUBTLE FORESHADOWING, LANDO NORRIS?????

-> user9 is this an announcement by him??

user10 my type

yourusername cutieeeee ❤️ liked by creator

-> user11 they're adorable

-> landonorris @yourusername no youuuu

-> user12 he's probably kicking his feet rn

oscarpiastri i'm currently sitting next to lando, i can confirm that he's blushing liked by creator

-> landonorris yep

-> user13 and he's so proud of it too 😭❤️

-> user14 i don't want him if he's not like lando

maxverstappen1 are you a cat dad now?

-> landonorris yes, we kept the kittens 😣

-> user16 the way lando literally can't say no to y/n

-> user17 being a cat dad made him gain infinite aura tbh

@yourusername

liked by landonorris, leenascobell, charles_leclerc, flavy.barla and 2.389.174 others

yourusername blessed 🧡

| view all comments...

leenascobell love you so much y/n liked by creator

-> yourusername love youuuuu

-> user1 the scobell family and y/n being friends jdndbuxkdndkdk

-> user2 kill me now

mclaren orange dress? *wink* papaya? *wink wink* liked by creator

-> yourusername my favorite team 🧡🤭

-> user15 the mclaren admin is a proud parents 😭❤️

flavy.barla love of my life ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername real, love of my life 💋

-> flavy.barla my girllll liked by creator

-> landonorris back off, y/n's mine 🙄

-> estebanocon mate, we don't even exist to them

-> user3 real, so stop trying

-> user4 the wives and their boyfriends

landonorris did someone say wife? liked by creator

-> user5 what if we did?

-> user8 lando...

user14 that's not even a face card, that's a while face economy 😍

user6 oh, y/n, the woman you are

-> user7 oh, lando, the man your are

user8 lando, my man, you better wife her up soon

-> user9 fr, put a ring on it

-> user10 he better not fumble🙏

user11 bro's actually trying to soft launch him proposing to his girlfriend rn 😭

user12 they are so wattpad coded

-> user13 no but like actually 🙏

@landonorris

liked by yourusername, flavy.barla, alexandrastmleux, flonorris1, lilymhe and 5.395.726 others

landonorris ladies and gentleman, my future Mrs. Norris ❤️

tagged: @yourusername

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flonorris1 so incredibly happy for you guys!! and very happy to have y/n as my new sister 🤭 liked by creator

-> yourusername huge bonus to marrying lando 🥰

-> landonorris you're lucky i love you, y/n 🙄

-> yourusername i love you, even if you're a muppet sometimes 🧡 liked by creator

-> user1 mom and dad 😍

user2 she really is THAT woman

-> user3 FR SHE IS SO PRETTY

user4 i don't know if i want to be y/n or be with y/n

-> user5 the struggle is real yall

-> user6 yeah 😭😭😭

user7 can lando fight???

-> landonorris yes. 😒

-> user8 surely he can't fight all of us?

-> user9 maybe not but i think he'll try

flavy.barla congrats!! liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you, my loveee ❤️

-> landonorris thanks, flavy

iamrebeccad Yaaaaayyy so special 🥰♥️ liked by creator

-> user10 awwww ❤️❤️❤️

carmenmmundt that's wonderful!!! congratulations ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you!!

-> user11 hi, carmen!!

user12 all of the wags being in the comments, awww 😭❤️

alexandrasaintmleux Sooooo happy for you both ❤️❤️🥰🥰🥰🥰 liked by creator

-> user13 alex and y/n supremacy 🙏

-> yourusername @alexandrasaintmleux thank you so much, darling!!!

-> user14 the best bridesmaid??

user15 CONGRATSSSSS ❤️❤️❤️

mclaren CONGRATSSS!!! the Norris's are team papaya 🧡🤭 liked by creator

-> user16 real 🥰

-> landonorris always ☺️

-> yourusername papaya on top!! liked by creator

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

A/N: yayyyyyy!! this took me so long because i was really busy today, but anywayssss!! hope u enjoyed <333

[elliesglock]

okay so i'm gonna preface this by saying, i haven't wrote an analysis for a bit so im sorry if im a little rusty but im trying to rebuild my masterlist. hope you guys enjoy, happy reading 💕 always remember to lmk anything i forgot as well!

the lives starts off with aubrey and crackhead kk just doing shit. just being bad. they're giving a dorm tour and decide to go to another dorm where everybody's kinda hanging out.

when they walk in, immediately ines comes firing saying kk and aubrey are assholes. which says to me that none of the people in the dorm they're walking into know they're on live. therefore, azzi clarifies with kk and aubrey if they "are still on live" because for reasons i will get in soon she wants to make sure she ain't going to say nothing incriminating. as soon as kk sets her phone down she goes in the back kinda whispering to azzi which brings me to my theory (it's kinda not a theory cause it gets confirmed later) that this entire live azzi is on ft with paige. azzi kinda calls kk over and kk realizes she's on the phone w her girl. this is able to spearhead mission annoy tf out of azzi with aubrey and rope in paige while they do it. will explain in a sec as well. they whisper and act super completely normal (spoiler they don't but they think they do). azzi has her laptop opened and is shopping? with ines for something but ig ines is being indecisive cause this whole live she keeps giving options for things and ines can't figure out what she wants. i just find it funny in general that pazzi are literally 8 inches from each other and STILL facetiming. like personally im not doing that with my friends id just text them. now this might be delusional but theres a moment where the comments see azzi and they're like ohhh she's so pretty! and kk points this out and tells azzi they said you're so pretty...and yall why i lowkey hear paige flying off the seat of her pants on facetime jealous as hell. now this alone really wouldn't convince me she was talking but everyone's reactions are lowkey so not nonchalant cause why kk hooting and hollering saying "ohhhh!!" and giggling as soon as i hear paige's voice? girl what was she saying? she was cussing some little twelve year olds out huh? what also convinces theyre on facetime is the fact that azzi is talking and holding up a conversation while everyone around her is not talking. so obv if no one is talking back to her that we can hear she's having a conversation on her phone. most likely with paige. i lowkey think paige is helping azzi out with whatever ines wants or is doing, because there's moments you can hear paige talking while everyone has their mouths closed. like look at them helping their first born pick out her outfits aweeee.

now when they turn this game on it starts getting chaotic as hell so just bear with me. i'm trying to listen to background convos while these mfs got their tv on 85 burning the paint off the walls so. during about 17:55, it's silent enough to hear FOR SURE paige is on the phone. she says something about glasses and we know how her minnesota ass says glasses. which tells me that that whole time azzi was helping out ines paige was in the conversation too. now what they were doing i have no idea. now, i think the shopping or studying or whatever was happening near azzi is done, everybody disperses and moves or leaves.

now rhis next part blows the fuck outta me 😒 a comment asks, "where's paige?" to which kk answers "minding her business!" immediately you hear azzi in the back go paige! and it almost sounds like she's saying it to her phone and she lowkey sound irritated like why is anybody bringing up my girl. kk and aubrey catch this tone and decide yeahhhh it's time to troll tf outta her rn. aubrey kinda makes a teasing remark to azzi like, "yeah where is she?" hinting at the fact azzi is on the phone with her and knows EXACTLY what's she's doing and where she is. aubrey is doing that annoying friend thing where she's maybe teasing azzi for being on the phone with her girlfriend and trying to be sneaky about it. now i think azzi over the teasing cause aubrey asks to say hi to paige on the phone (basically confirming that paige was on the phone the whole time) and azzi says, "i'll twist your knee into the thing!" before handing the phone over to her. aubrey gets the phone from kk and blows an air kiss to paige. she watches the phone and you can hear paige whispering. i personally think she's asking what azzi is doing or how she's acting. cause aubrey immediately looks up at azzi and smiles like she knows paige is trying to see if azzi's mad at her. and then aubrey, not giving up on the teasing, says "i told you i miss you man!" really loud into h the phone, immediately looking up to watch az's reaction. i think they tryna tease azzi but acting like azzi and paige do on the phone. but personally that's just how i read the situation and in my head i feel like that's what their behavior is showing me. now aubrey hand the phone off talking about "im being a menace" which girl we know but you better be careful around big az like im scared for you and even more scared for paige....

so kk and aubrey are talking about being menaces and paige sounds like she says, "what's she doing?" and they most likely flip the camera around. aubrey wiggles her eyebrows almost like paige is watching azzi and she knows she being extraaaaaa heart eyes central today. and in my humble petty opinion i bet azzi flips off the camera or says something and they all start laughing and gasping. but this parts iffy, paige could also be saying "ofc you do". now this next part is CRAZY ASF i think this is probably something you could use to convince deniers paige and azzi are together. so there's a comment that pops up that says "aww her girl otp" obviously implying azzi's on the phone with her girl. aubrey reads the comment and goes beserk and starts laughing and pointing it out to kk. kk giggles showing paige. we know she shows paige because her no survival instincts head ass goes, "yeah kk's girl on the phone." this is around the time azzi comes running up to the phone asking what the comment said. now this live we get some juicy juicy jealous/pouty azzi and she lowkey sounds like she's mad as hell. so paige and azzi are bickering back and forth cause u know she just gonna dogpile on azzi when she's pouty cause she, for one, has no self preservation skills and 2 she likes when her girl gets mad at her (kinky ass). paige being a lil sassy masc on the phone huffing and puffing mocking azzi and she says "take a break." to which paige replies, "take a big break!" in that sassy little tone of hers. i think she can recognize azzi's pouty and moody and doesn't like being made fun of so she's having fun watching her get all upset when she teases her. poor azzi girl i know when my girl teases me when im already about to jump and fly off the handle it makes me soooooo irritated but at the end of the day thats the good stuff. im sure they would rather be annoying each other all day than be apart and that's just the truth. kk makes fun of everybody asking for paige by saying its "pilates bueckers" and that's azzi's "cousin"

and it's so funny to me because if they were GENUINELY JUST FRIENDS they would not react the way they do. they'd be laughing adding onto the joke like they do with everything else but they don't. azzi most likely makes a fun and is like ewwww and paige goes "you sick." mostly because who tf wants to be called your gf's cousin? yuckkkk. now paige spends a minute just flaming the audience for no good reason other than she getting a ki off of annoying everyone on planet earth atm ig. so paige got some guac on ft and these hungry hungry girls see it and say oooo we wanna go downstairs and get some. azzi immediately stops what she's doing and is like im gonna come down there too in this threatening ass voice. now here's my theory. paige and azzi were talking about having a movie night on the phone you can hear them. so obviously azzi is gonna get annoyed when her friends go down to paige's room (where she was just about to go) to go eat. it's almost like she says "i'm gonna come down there too" to warn paige when she need to quit acting cute and get everybody out so they can have their cuddle sesh. basically hinting at paige, when i get my ass down there that means everybody need to clear out. i also think her voice just sounds so urgenttrrr, she's like waittttt not without me i wanna go downstairs and see my girl too just not with all yall in there. i think that's why she sounds so impatient/irritated. missing p-itis got her good.

so girl. after they go downstairs. all a mess. poor amari they was clowning on her guac so bad. so in between the puking and fighting for her life that kk's doing for 5 mins, i'd like to point out that paige really doesn't act like she knows kk is on live. kk kinda bursts in her room and is fake puking for some reason .... and she never really sees kk is still on live. i'll break it down more in my script but, we hear a little robot voice go, "call from azzi fudd." and it dings like paige picks it up. now yall why this bitch say babyyyy when she answers it. and then says hello. mind you she says baby in a weird voice but that's how she answers it. sigh my babygirl/baby paige agenda is thriving atm. now i'm gonna end this exactly how i thought azzi meant by when she said "im finna come down there too." kk is sitting on paige's bed and talking to her when we hear the door open. very obv you can hear azzi say, "cmon don't piss me off" like basically shooing kk cause she wants some time with her girl. and i jus imagine paige holding her hands up like what the wife says goes when kk looks at her. cause she know she damn wrong for how she was teasing and she's not trying to get in anymore trouble, smart girl. but also they just wanna spend time together too and i know that cuddle + movie combo SMACKED. i wish i was a fly on the wall.

suarrrr i know how much yall liked this analysis so i had to bring it back. sorry if it isn't the og but hey it's something! i'm also releasing the script for this live tonight about the same time i release this...thank yall!

[revelboo]

Finally starting to feel a whole lot better after my surgery.

Just a few more days until I can eat solid foods well again.

Hoping you’re feeling much better! 💕

Oh, ticks aren’t fun at all

Comfort

Waspinator x Reader

• Watching his antenna lift as his head tips, he reaches out a clawed servo to gingerly touch the over sized teddy bear you’d found in the Ark’s community bins of human stuff. “It’s soft,” you coax and he glances at the Autobots sitting at the table with him, their humans on the table. It’d taken forever to get him to stop going giant wasp and just nabbing you to fly up onto the ceiling whenever anyone tries to talk to you both. To be still and trust they’re not out to get the two of you.

• Would rather be small, be your size, but he can’t protect you at that size. Leaning to rest his chin on the table, he relaxes when you sit against his mandible with the toy in your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the bow and he lays his arm on the table between you and the other humans. Thinks they’re at least okay, but he’s not sure about the Autobots. Watching the way they interact with their humans easing some of his tension. They seem to generally care about each other. Friends. Maybe more for some of them. Watches Bumblebee touch his human’s shoulder to get their attention, the way they smile up at the bot easing his worry some.

• You’ve already forgotten names and you feel like an outsider, but you like listening to the chatter of the other humans and their bots. Answering for you and Wasp both when they try to include you two, because Waspinator just whines softly, face pressed against your back. Know he just wants to hide with you in the habsuite they’ve given you both, but you’re pretty sure he needs this. Needs a sense of community and some friends besides just you. If he’d talk to them. And you need this, too. To talk about everything, the misunderstandings that come from dating aliens, the awkwardness. It helps that you’re almost certain you’re not the only one intimate with one of them.

• Venting as the Autobots and their humans talk, he mass shifts startling a laugh from the human with Trailbreaker. Ignoring them, he curls around you, an arm against your back and his head in your lap. Knows they’re staring, that he’s mostly likely done something wrong, but he’s not sure what. And you reach to play with his antenna as he tiredly chews on the hem of your covering. You’re happy here and that’s enough for him, your voice rising and falling as you talk to the others.

• Absently rubbing his antenna as he tries to wiggle closer like a massive lapdog, you see the human with the horned yellow bot smile as Wasp’s wings buzz before stilling. And this is good for him. To not feel scared and threatened all the time. You like the other people. Mostly. There’s a few that made it very clear they don’t like your big, ugly puppy, but most of them are coming around. It feels good to hang out with people, chatting and having a sense of community you haven’t really had since high school. And sure, there’s drama and squabbling, but you’re all in same boat here. Adopted by giant aliens whether you like it or not.

[soopcak3]

Heyyy could i love your writing sm and i was wondering if you could maybe write some nam-gyu fluff maybe like thanos being interested in you but you kinda want nam-gyu and if you were on thanos’ team and like correcting him whenever he says nam-gyu’s name wrong😋💗

Thank youu and lots of love💕

I’m not the biggest Nam-gyu fan but I loved this concept sooo

Im surprised you remembered..

Nam-gyu x reader/fluff☁️

Summary: in anon’s ask

Warnings: none

Y/N should’ve just walked away when 230 approached her. She should’ve just ignored him, but the man he was with… he was too pretty to not stare. Thanos tilted his head with a smile, “distracted, senorita? I know.. I bet you didn’t think you’d be joining Thanos World today but, here you are!”

Y/N snapped out of her daze and faced him, “oh uhm.. no thanks I was just-“ “Nam-su.” Thanos said, gesturing to the pretty guy behind him. “It’s Nam-gyu.. actually.” The man said, presumably Nam-GYU. “Right, right.. anyway. See to it senorita is protected in the next game. Welcome to the Thanos world~” Thanos smiled, kissing Y/N on the hand.

She pulled her hand away, “I.. guess so? So which game would each of you wanna do?” Y/N asked, gesturing to Nam-gyu, Thanos, the edgy but cool girl, and this shy guy with her.

Y/N got stuck with Ddakji, she was always good at it as a kid and got it first try. Then there was Se-mi, you’d now learned her name, with flying stone. She did pretty well to say the least. Min-su with ggongi, and then Nam-gyu with spinning top.

Thanos erupted happily, “You got this Nam-su—!” “Nam-gyu.” Y/N interrupted, correcting him. Thanos looked confused as Nam-gyu looked over at her, seeming surprised, before throwing the spinning top perfectly first try! Finally there was Thanos with the jegi, it took him a few tries but eventually he got it.

As they went back to the sleeping space and y/n felt a tap on the shoulder, she turned around and blushed softly seeing Nam-gyu. “You remembered my name.. I’m surprised.” He said, seeming confused. She smiled awkwardly, “y-yea I.. guess I did hehe…”

“…thank you.” He said calmly. “What?” Y/N asked, confused.

“For remembering I guess.. he gets it wrong all the time and no one seems to care so— thanks.” Nam-gyu nodded, feeling somewhat bashful.

“Oh— oh! Yea.. you’re welcome.” She smiled gently. Nam-gyu stood there for a moment awkwardly, “for what it’s worth.. I will protect you for the next game.” He said, softly placing a hand on her shoulder. Y/N blushed profusely and nodded before walking off.

‘What an odd interaction..’ She thought, but that interaction hadn’t left her head all night.

[xxchumanixx]

Hiii! If its not much trouble could I request a tim Bradford and reader fic where she's really shy and sensitive, but still diligent at work and his rookie? He usually had a soft spot for her bcs he has a crush on her but she messes up a case and gets yell at by him?? Calls her a crybaby and all?? But later he comforts her and confesses? Maybe she thinks he likes lucy up until that point?? Just a lot of angst filled with pining and fluff! Thanks sm and I love your workk💕

Headrush

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: language! (Shut up, Steve), fluff, hurt, angst

Word count: 2.523

Authors note: Oh my god, it's been so long, I'm so sorry! Thank you a lot for your request! I really liked the idea and I hope you'll like how I wrote it.

Lots of love! ❤️

Please, as always

Enjoy!

"Shit, shit, shit!" you cursed under your breath, biting your lip as your fingers anxiously fiddled with the belt on your hips.

This was not how this case was supposed to go.

Not at all.

It was like a damn domino effect - one thing went down the hill, and so did the rest one after another.

A whole fucking shitshow.

That your suspect was lying dead on the street was just the cherry on top.

He had tried to run from you, not watching where he went. You tried to warn him, yelled that he should watch out, when a car hit him, and sent him flying over the street.

Tim stood beside you, eyes wide and mouth agape, not really believing what he saw. He wasn't sure whether to yell at you, comfort you, or just get back in the car.

He gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. He usually was softer with you, than he was with other rookies he had.

You just didn't know that he harbored feelings for you that went far beyond being your TO.

A conflicting thing, really.

"You-" he started, cutting himself off, eyes flying over the scene. The dead man on the floor, the shocked civilians all around you.

The poor woman that drove the car that hit the man.

The ambulance covered the man with a sheet, calling the coroner.

That was what snapped him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tim spoke up, rasing his voice as he looked down at you. "What the hell did you think?" You flinched at his tone, some of your usual shyness and sensitivity shining through.

Tim bit his cheek, so hard he almost drew blood.

He felt bad, sorry even.

To yell at you was one of the things he wanted the least, but he had no other choice if he wanted you to be successful.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"Sir, I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but he didn't let you. Once he was in that stage of rage, it was hard to see an escape through the fog.

"No, of course you did not!" he went on, the look on his face both terrifying and breaking you.

To ever think you'd stand a chance with the man yelling down at you seemed like the stupidest thing in the world suddenly.

"How could you let him get this far?" he continued to rage, seemingly not caring about the people around you that started to watch the commotion. "You should have stopped him!"

You swallowed, a bitter pill you'd forced upon yourself by letting the suspect get this far. That you'd fallen pretty badly along the way, most likely spraining your ankle, wasn't important anymore.

Who knew if he'd even seen it?

"I- I'm sorry." you breathed out, doing your best not to lose your face in front of him. The day had started bad, and it got worse the longer it went on. "I shouldn't have let him get this far."

Tim scoffed, hands fisting his belt as he looked around you. "I shouldn't have let you handle this on your own." he spoke, voice a mix of regret and spite. "I should have known better."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You knew you were ready, and damn he knew it, too. Mistakes were normal, no matter how long you were doing the job already. But with your last week as a rookie rolling around, he pushed you more and more beyond your limits.

You felt tears burn in your eyes, the ugly tugging sensation in your jaw when you tried your very best to hold them back.

But Tim had already seen them.

His head tilted in disbelief, eyes widening before they narrowed.

Not a good sign.

"Are you gonna cry?" he asked, voice full of disbelief. "Are you kidding me? What are you? A fucking crybaby?"

Told you so.

You cleared your throat, cheeks burning in shame.

"No, no, of course not." you mumbled, trying to steady your voice. Tim tilted his head more, sending you a look that told you to repeat yourself. "No, I'm not crying." you repeated louder, looking up at him.

To say his behavior hurt was an understatement.

"Get in the car." he hissed, motioning at the shop. You nodded, doing as he told you without protesting.

It wouldn't have done you any good, anyway.

Moral of the story suddenly played in your head, and you couldn't help but think how right Ashe was, as you climbed into the passengers seat.

You had learned a lot about Tim the last year, yet he surprised you with how cold and harsh he was right now.

You should have never let your stupid crush get out of hand like this. Maybe to be hurt like this, to be talked down by him like that - maybe that was your moral of the story.

Like they said: Never fuck the company.

Not that you and Tim had gotten physically close somehow, but that didn't stop your mind from imagining sometimes.

You just were glad you experienced him like this before anything could have happened.

Not that you had much faith in that, anyway.

____

You let out a sigh, as you finally made your way out of the station.

It had been a long day, maybe the longest of your life. After driving back you had to wait before being questioned about the incident. It went on for nearly two hours, in which they decided you weren't responsible for the suspects death.

Yes, he had run from you, but it was his own decision, and you had tried to warn him.

You body-cam proofed it.

You hadn't seen Tim since you'd gotten out of the shop, silently thankful for it.

You didn't know if you'd been able to endure another round of his scolding today without actually breaking down.

Seeing Lucy though, only pressed on your sore nerves more. Yes, you liked her as a friend, but the thought that Tim seemed head over heels for her warred with that.

Only a fool wouldn't see.

The cold night air hit your skin, effectively cooling it down and clearing your head a little. You hoped to get home and fall in bed, only waking up again when you would have forgotten this day.

But someone seemed to have other plans.

"Y/N, wait!" he called out after you, and you only then noticed that his car was still in the almost empty parking lot.

You debated whether to ignore him, act like you didn't hear, but your consciousness said otherwise. You turned around as he stopped in front of you, silently cursing yourself for being such a good person.

He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, lips parted, like he didn't expect you to actually wait. "Listen," he then started, brows furrowing slightly as his gaze drifted away for a brief second. "I didn't mean to be so harsh on you back there."

You frowned, blinking a few times in confusion. Was he a-

"I'm sorry."

You didn't know what to say, now at a loss for words yourself. "I- i'ts okay." you then said after finding your voice, biting your cheek. "You lectured me, and it's not like it wasn't justified, sir."

He gritted his teeth, you could see even in the dim streetlight.

"No, that was too harsh." he gave back, shaking his head, frown deepened. "It wasn't your fault he was hit by the car. You tried to warn him and he didn't listen."

You pushed your bottom lip forward, not sure where his sudden change in mood came from. "Look, sir-" you started, but he cut you off. "Stop that." he demanded, the frown on his face bordering on angry now.

Your lips parted in confusion, not sure what you did wrong now.

"Stop calling me sir." he said. "We both know that's needless. It's not like- I mean, you're one week away from becoming a p2. We both know you'll make it with flying colors. Call me Tim."

He was selfish, he knew it.

But if it meant he'd hear his name from your mouth even once, he'd do anything. He didn't know yet if you'd choose to stay after graduation, and he'd have to take what he got.

He was in way too deep.

You swallowed before you nodded, gaze meeting the ground. Your teeth maltreated your cheek, not sure how to react.

"I've never- I've never seen a dead person like this before." you suddenly spoke, looking back up at him. "I didn't know where my head was, and you yelled at me. I was overwhelmed."

It just bubbled out of you. Maybe the dim lighting made you bolder.

"That's not me." you continued, shaking your head. "I- I'm tidily, I always make sure to give my best, it just-" Without you noticing, tears formed in the corners of your eyes, and you gasped for air.

Tim's own eyes widened, as he realized you were about to panic.

He closed the distance, wrapping his arms around you.

It was pure instinct, every nerve in him telling him to hug you, to comfort you.

To not make him see you cry.

He couldn't.

"It's okay." he spoke softly, as your fingers fisted the material of his jacket. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry for yelling at you."

You couldn't help the tears from flowing, not when he held you like this, doing his best to make you feel better.

"I should have known." you sobbed, pushing the shame for crying onto his jacket aside for now. "I wasn't ready."

He shooed you, one hand carding through your hair.

He knew if someone saw you two, this would have ended badly.

But he couldn't bring himself to care.

"You are ready." he gave back. "More than ready. I've seen you out there, you always have yourself under control. You're diligent, something that not every rookie is. You may be shy, and maybe a bit sensitive, but that's something good. You know how to talk to people, you understand them. And I know this wasn't your fault. You did your absolute best, and that's exactly what I told them back there."

You swallowed, cheeks heating up at his words.

You didn't expect him to be so open and soft with you.

"You- you really think that?" you asked, sniffing as the tears slowly subsided. He chuckled softly. "God, you have no clue." he mumbled, gaze flitting over the dark parking lot.

You frowned, not sure what he meant. But before you could have asked, he continued on his own.

"I'm not good at this emotional stuff." he said with a huff. "But you are. And I'm grateful for it, I really am, because I learned to get better at it, because of you. And I'm supposed to be the TO here, not you."

You chuckled, not having expected him to learn something from you whilst training you.

"You should talk to Lucy, then." you suggested, the thought jabbing at your heart. But if he wanted her, he'd be prepared for the emotional talk now, then.

Tim frowned, looking down at you with confusion. He gently pushed you away enough to look in your eyes.

"What do you mean?" he wanted to know, trying to make out what you were telling him. Your cheeks heated up, but you knew there was no turning back now.

Might as well reap what you've sown by digging into his personal life.

"I mean that you can tell her how you feel if you're better at emotional stuff now." you explained, doing your best to look encouraging. He scoffed a laugh, nose crinkling slightly. "Wait, you think I-" he started, but cut himself off with another laugh.

You frowned, suddenly feeling uncertain. "Yes, I mean-" you wanted to explain yourself, but he cut you off, hands on your arms as he leaned a bit down to look into your eyes. "No." he said firmly, a grin on his lips. "I'm not in love with Lucy."

The thought almost seemed absurd to him.

Why would he want Lucy when you were here, standing right in front of him?

Your frown deepened, thoughts running a million miles a minute. "Wait, you're not?" you asked, voice carrying a hint of disbelief and maybe relief. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "No." he confirmed. "I'm not."

Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, only broken by a huff leaving your lips. "Well, I'm not as good at reading people as I thought I am." you mumbled, biting your cheek.

He shrugged as if to say I noticed. "If you were you would have known I don't want Lucy." he said, empathizing her name.

You cocked a brow, looking up at him again. "What do you mean?"

He sent you a smile that sent your heart into a frenzy, and for a moment, you thought you'd have a headrush. "I mean," he began, eyes wandering over your face. "That I can't wait for you to be a p2."

You felt dumb.

"Tim-" you started, but cut yourself off, as realization suddenly hit you like a freight train. "Wait, what?"

He chuckled, a sound that seared its way into your brain the first time you'd heard it. "Yes." he confirmed. "I don't want Lucy, because I already want you, Y/N."

It felt like the night sky had decided to let all it's lucky stars rain down on you at once.

A mix of emotions rushed through you, and you felt like you'd actually have a headrush.

"What- How?" you stammered, words escaping your brain. "I- I mean, why me? Why not her?"

Tim cocked a brow at your words. He knew you'd say something like that, a clear sign of how well he knew you by now. "Because you're you." he said. "Because you care. You're smart, funny, cute. You are a good cop, and I couldn't ask for more in a person than you already are. I don't want Lucy, because I'm not interested in her the way that I'm interested in you."

You inhaled shakily, his words like a balm to your wounded heart.

"And if you'd let me, I'd like to take you out once you're officially a p2." he added with hope shining in his bright eyes.

A smile spread your lips at his words. "I'd love to go out with you, Tim." you gave back, causing his own smile to grow.

His eyes fell to the smile on your lips, and suddenly he cared even less about the open space of the parking lot.

"Can I kiss you?" he wanted to know, eyes finding their way back to yours.

Your smile widened, and you nodded. "You can."

It was delicate the way he pressed his lips to yours, like petals of a flower. One hand snaked its way into your hair, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer. Your own hands gripped his jacket, anchoring you.

It was all you could have wished for.

And suddenly, the headrush wasn't so unpleasant anymore.

Tag List:

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @dhundhchrih @augustvandyne @rookietrek @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @freyathehuntress @skywalker0809

[ilydeku]

Hello!! Before I start, I just want to say that your green profile aesthetic is so prettyyy😭😭😭 it honestly reminds me of Pinterest idk. Can I request IT!girl!reader dating middle school Izuku? (im just in love w loser bf x drop dead gorg reader!)

tysm anonnie !!❤️❤️

im not sure if i did this right, but here u go 😭💕

~

you, an IT girl, dating izuku in middle school

- now this is quite the unexpectation

- what were you doing with the quirkless loser, Deku??

- you, so full of confidence with the way you carried yourself, loads of friends, grades of flying colors, beauty unmatched, a strong quirk. the list goes on

- him? the only thing remarkable is probably his will to keep going. just a quirkless outcast, a shameless nerd with unreachable dreams

- LITERALLY THIS LMFAOO:

- so why? it came as a GREAT surprise to see a post of you and Deku hanging out at a kitty cafe on insta. was it a dare? a prank? like ts gotta be some typa joke right

- WRONGG.

- they're merely scratching the surface, a surface that's not at all what it seems

- he's a really sweet boy, completely taken advantage of because of his meekness

- despite being quirkless, he was the realest person you've encountered in the school: observant, hard working, respectful. it's not like a quirk defines you anyway

- it's so embarrassing watching a classmate with the most ugly, useless, atrocious quirk you've ever witnessed poke fun at Deku

- like oh my GOSH dude they get humbled QUICK after you mention that you'd rather be quirkless

- like atp that ain't a quirk that's a disability 💀—not to be mean, but to make a point that Deku is just as capable of becoming a hero as anyone else

- going to school dances with Deku would be a lot more enjoyable if it weren't for those meddling whispers about you two. he often gets pushed to the sidelines 'cause you get swarmed by your friends and bombarded with questions :(

- but in the end, you came with him and mattered the most to him.

- he gets so nervous when he's around you, help him, he can't even look at you

- not in offense or anything. you make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he can't help but feel enveloped by your presence

- you're this beautiful ray of light and he's kinda just..the shadow that follows after

"Izuku...Izuku did I do something wrong?"

"What? N-No! Of course not!"

"Then why aren't you looking at me?"

"Because you're—you're really pretty..."

"Pfft. You're really pretty too."

- Deku doesn't really initiate anything, thinking it'd be too lame or uncomfortable for you :( and if he does, he'll hesitate and drawback any ideas aforethought

- he follows you like a little puppy, always at your disposal

- he knows NOTHING about dating, only the note of going to amusements parks and sharing a sweet treat

- his confidence dwindles :( maybe he could learn a thing or two from you? <3

- when i tell you he was absolutley shocked when you confessed to him. his immediate reaction was playing it off as a joke

Wh..What? Oh...very funny, y/n...Huh..? YOU'RE SERIOUSOWUEIDEGHD!?!?

- he ALWAYS questions your feelings towards him—why me of all others? but i'm just a regular boy and you're..you? (gorgeous, pretty, beautiful, super cool, whole hearted, sweet...)

- and you can reassure everytime—because you're you and i like you!! a one of a kind.

- Deku doesn't have much to give to you, but he does have a big heart and alotta love

- maybe he is a loser, but he's your loser, and you wouldn't have him any other way

[spicybunni]

I needed to get this off my chest. If you’re willing to write for dad Heisenberg that is. I assume we all agree that Karl is pretty much a lycan or can become one. So how cute yet creepy would it be if fem reader woke up scratching and entering her child’s bedroom only to see glowing eyes(much like Karl’s) in their baby’s crib. Their baby being part lycan has been on my mind for some time. And we need more Heisendad.

FATHER'S EYES (Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader)

Awww Heisendad sounds so good in theory but it doesn't align with my headcanons of him. 😭Which is why this was so fun to write! I kinda switched some things round but I hope you like it, tbh writing this made me so sad for Karl??? I don't know why?? 😭💕

WARNINGS ⚠️: POST PARTUM PANIC / BABY MISSING FOR A MOMENT / FLUFF

The sounds of scratches and floorboards creaking woke you up. The sounds in question could be heard in the hallway connecting your room to the nursery. You checked the dinky clock next to your bed. It was 2:30 in the morning. You rub your eyes, attempting to wake yourself and see what your baby is up to.

Post partum has been kind to you in many ways, but with sleep? Not so much. You were always a light sleeper to begin with. But after giving birth to Lord Heisenberg's child you were always on alert yet exhausted for sleep sometimes. Karl offered to be with you and try to help with your adjustment to motherhood. You refused his offer, needing time away from his factory and robots and just....him. The factory was no place to raise a child, and with his devotion to Mother Miranda's experiments, he would not be able to provide you proper care. He understood your reasons and offered a alternative, a cabin near the village rather than staying in a rusty room in his factory. It was away to where you had privacy to raise your child, but close enough if you needed help from anyone.

It has been 8 months of you bonding with your baby. Setting routines and observing how your child is growing. Ever since the birth you were worried they would come out with powers. So far, nothing you could notice had come up. But Mother Miranda still has yet to be convinced otherwise.

You walked down the hallways towards the nursery room, the scratching noise you heard stopped as you approached the doorway. You didn't even hear the usual baby whines or coos that you're used to walking in on.

Your eyes widen at the room before you, covered in small scratch marks and toys thrown everywhere, but your baby is nowhere to be found.

Blood turning cold and adrenaline pumping. Calling out your baby's name as calm as you can before panicking and searching everywhere for them. But what mother wouldn't? You can't find them anywhere in their crib or the entire nursery. You rush to your bedroom and search for something that might help you.

The cabin had an installed emergency line that connected to the factory. Karl respected your boundaries, but as the mother of his offspring, he had the bare minimum duty to protect you and offer safety from a distance. You've never had to use it for these past months. Now you were struggling to remember where you had put that damn button. You had lit a lantern to get a better view of your stuff.

You almost didn't hear it, but you heard the cry of your baby finally. But it came from neither your room or the nursey. The sound came from downstairs. Quickly abandoning your search that panic button, you fly to the staircase, looking down into the living room to see if you could spot your child anywhere. Nothing still, but you hear those coos, so they must be down there. Rushing down the stairs with the lantern in hand, illuminating your way.

Was this possibly just a result of a growth spurt and they're able to leave the crib now? All the possibilities were fluttering through your mind. but what you came to see was beyond any expectation you had.

There in the corner near a window, you find the child's father, holding them safe in his arms. Lord Heisenberg was rocking them and whispering random nonsense to keep them quiet. They were slightly illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window. He see's the light of the lantern and turns to you. A few things were different from his normal attire, no hat, no glasses, and no hammer. He smirks at you, leaning down to the baby again.

"It looks like we woke mama up, shame on us." The baby giggles at the sound of their fathers voice.

"M-My lord! What are you doing here?!" You approached them both, setting the lantern on the coffee table to the side. You go to reach for your baby to see that they're alright. But what caught your attention was the two glowing eyes that were fixed on you. Covering your mouth, keeping the gasp in that would've escaped. Instead making you shudder at the sight. There were a few dark veins showing around their head too but they didn't show any discomfort or pain...It was a small transformation they had done while in the crib, frustrated their tiny hands and legs weren't strong enough to maneuver over and come to you. So they manifested the strength that had always been within them.

"They're fine (Y/N), just a few minor growing changes...They have awakened some lycan traits. Guess there's no need for further proof the kid is mine.." He tried to humor you, but you were in any mood but to be humored right now. You glance to him unamused and back to your child.

You stare wide eyed at them in your arms, those matching eyes with their father next to you. Bringing their head to the crook of you neck, in an embrace to hide your look of bewilderment. Was this the development that you worried would come? How do you go about child rearing from here?

There was another pending question on your mind though.

"But...What are you doing here?" You looked up at him again from your thoughts. He was looking down at both of you with something akin to proudness.

"If you really thought I was going to abandon you two here without any protection then you're just as dumb as the average villager here. I have this place under a monitor in case of emergencies. I saw them crawl out of the crib and you weren't waking up at all. Figured you could use some ...guidance in this area. Unless you have experience with human mutagens in toddlers." He says the last part mockingly. Of course you don't. You realize he would be the only one that could possibly help you in this situation.

Wrapping his arm around your back, he leans down and pecks the side of your forehead. Karl's golden eyes regard you warmly. You've done a great job in raising his child, but now he must help you.

"Come. Let's go to back to sleep, (Y/N)...Let's raise our child together."

[ophelieverse]

Hii there Lia,i’m a little embarrassed because i’ve been following you since the beginning and i loved all of your posts,this time i wanted to be brave and ask for a request.I’m a Daemon girly,so can I request an imagine where he and reader kinda have a thing going on?Like it’s not official but they do😏😏things?Thank you for your service and your works,luv u💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

✦ ⟢balance

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

—Summary:reader is a dragonseed,the daughter of bastard child of one of the Targaryens,when the Rogue Prince went to search for dragon riders to fight in the war he sets his eyes on her for more than one purpose.

—Warnings:poor smut writing,reader will have the valyrian silver hair,kinda of incest,Daemon cheats on Rhae with reader(i apologize my Queen i love you)age gap(reader is legal)and Daemon being himself as always.

•—thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If as a child they had told her that balance would be one of the basic requirements to ride a dragon,Y/n would never have believed it.

Because after all,even though she could have guessed it with the strength of the intellect,she was just a child who loved to dream and saw soldiers as heroes who had become such thanks to the strength of training.However,the truth was in the middle:it took talent and strength to become a good soldier,then a good dose of willpower and finally balance.

Y/n had lived her whole life on the island of Dragonstone and she was pretty sure that she was also going to die of old age,maybe in her warm bed or with her feet deep in the sand,in the place that she had always called home.

Her father was a fisherman from Essos,Volantis to be exact that loved to take her on his boat and tell her stories about his home in the other continent.A simple man,an insignificant part of sand in the sea.Nothing special.Her mother however,was definitely something more special and it could be seen in her wild silver hair that danced in the morning breeze.

The white tangle of mess that crowned her head was the only thing that Y/n had inherited from her mother.The stained and not pure Valyrian blood that circled in her veins,the proof that the fairy tales about dragons,princesses and castles that her mother used to whisper to her at night before putting her to sleep,were part of them.Her mother was a bastard child,daughter of the princess Gael Targaryen.

And Y/n was her granddaughter,her mother made sure that she remembered that before her death,that she was also the blood of the old Valyria and that the dragons that she had saw on the island were hers by birth right.That she shouldn’t be settling down for an ordinary life but that she could be so much more.A dragon rider.

Balance.

And she would have never believe it as a child that that word would be one of the keys to her entire future:of choices made on the spot that could aim for the balance of the situation in just a few seconds.

But also of balance merely on the physical side: she remembers how long it took to find the balance necessary to stand straight on Vermithor,the bronze fury who seemed to have taken a liking in her choosing Y/n as his new rider. When from the bottom of her eight years and with a few teeth missing it seemed so easy to her for the Targaryen to fly up there.

She had spent years of her life,running up and down the docks,nose up in the air,eyes never leaving the sky and the beautiful creatures flying back on the hills of Dragonstone.Never in her life Y/n thought that one day she would have been up there with them,riding King Jaehaerys dragon for the coming war.

She remembers it as if it were yesterday:the heavy wood on her shoulders, the suspenders pulling on her dress,the smell of sweat and fish -by who stood still under the sun,like her,to look at the Rogue Prince,Daemon Targaryen walking through the dirty streets.She remembers the gravel under his feet,the clean smell of his clothes,the way his purple eyes seemed to shine under the light and the way they were studying her whole body from the top of her head to her bare feet.

Y/n could also remember the way she felt her skin catch of fire,they way her father trembled next to her without saying a word,as the prince took a strand of her hair between his fingers.Carefully,as if he was counting every single hair,he brought them to his nose to give them a sniff.

«Yes.»his voice was low,it made her shiver,his eyes never leaving hers«You smell like a dragon.»it sounded like he was disgusted but on his face there was no trace of it.

It’s been months since then,but Daemon hadn't aged much from that day,or at least,she remembered him exactly with that aspect.The long pale hair styled to perfection,the nails well-groomed,the voice deep.Clean clothes.The blade of his sword shiny and sharp.Purple eyes with pure fire behind them.White skin and beard shaved to perfection.

He is sitting in front of Y/n with his legs apart at the foot of the bed as he finishes reading a report.The war was closer each day and they needed to be ready.Y/n slipped into his room like every night.

Daemon was married to Queen Rhaenyra,but he didn’t spend much time with her.He had a war to prepare and to win.He was the one that suggested to find more dragon riders,the one that went searching for them and the one that trained them.All of them,four to be exact,were simple people before a dragon had claimed them.

Y/n was chosen by Vermithor,a massive creature with more teeth than anything else,whose roar shook the very foundations of Dragonstone.

«The best for the best.»Daemon had commented,holding her hand as he helped her getting down.

«I’m sure he is.»Y/n had muttered once she was steady on her feet,on the solid ground«But i don’t know if i will be able to be of any help.He will be better without me on him.»she said,placing a insecure hand on the dragon head.

The Rogue Prince observed the way the creature nuzzled against her touch«You have blood of the dragon in you.He knows it,you know it.You exist and there are no more excuses,you were born to do this.»his voice was more gentle this time.

He hadn’t been this caring and careful with Ser Hugh or Addam,keeping his face stoic and his eyes cold while he was telling them what to do with their dragons.But the war was closer each day and the last thing he needed was a scared little girl that didn’t knew how to ride a dragon.

Y/n was young,naive,soft and pure.Everything that he wasn’t,everything that he saw in his niece when he was just a child,everything he took from him previous wife,that he had lost in the daughter he didn’t met and in the one that he ignores.Everything that he craved and wanted,that was pulling him to her like a moth to a flame.

In the beginning he thought it was because of that.Y/n was much younger that he was,she didn’t had any manners,he would think of her as a ignorant and savage girl that didn’t knew how to read or write,which silverware to use at the dinner table,how dress properly or how to take care of her beautiful moon hair.

So he took care of her.He thought her how to read and write,how to sit at a table,how to hold a sword .Once her face was clean from the dirt and her skin smelled of roses and vanilla,dressed in one of Rhaena pastel pink dresses,he saw in her the purity and familiarity he had lost in those years.The innocence that he took from the women in his life without asking,the perfect immaculate skin that he didn’t stained yet,the hair,just like his,that he didn’t pulled,the beautiful heart shaped lips he didn’t tasted.

It was like looking at a ghost from his past,as she was in front of him so unsure and with the desire to please in every possible way,to make him proud,to have him pay attention to her,to just become his favorite.

«The key is in the balance.»he had explained to her,his big hand covering her lower back as he walked her back to the castle.

«Balance?»Y/n asked confused with a little voice.

Daemon nodded«Once you will find your balance and be steady on your own feet,everything will be easier.»he said.

Balance.

Y/n marks it in her mind,every letter as a stepping step.It's what she thinks she's found for the first time in her life:Daemon gives her a sense of calmness,peace after the battle,even after the biggest losses,even if he seems more broken,more broken after every defeat or every time that he has a fight with Rhaenyra.

But his presence is still reassuring.It's like a hot tea when you have a sore throat.Like honey in milk.Reassuring,comforting.Somehow.

Daemon was the first person that had spent so much time to take care of her and Y/n knew it was wrong.It wasn’t proper the way he would sit next the bathtub while she was washing,in the way he would brush her hair every night,kiss her forehead and cradle her head on his chest before falling asleep.It wasn’t proper when he was married,to the Queen no less,it was treason and it mean death penalty.But that didn’t stop them.

He had a perfect balance between Y/n,the young and virgin girl,the pure maiden,the new thing in his life and Rhaenyra,the old mad Queen,the one thing he already had possessed and had nothing else to offer him.

Daemon is all Y/n knows about life.He made sure to teach her that.It is the balance of the spirit and the balance of the body.It's the beauty of his armor and in the way he stands proudly on Caraxes,the way he spend his time to clean Dark Sister.The shirt just opened and messy hair on his head.

He is tired.He is already half undressed.The cloak hung him on the chair.

Y/n,on the other hand,is not as balanced as he is,she had tried for him but she had failed:she still feels the adrenaline running through her blood, running through her veins and singing her soul.She knows what she wants to put out the fire,to turn off the brain,to regain balance.

And she waits with all her might just like Daemon with patience.

Balance.First duty then pleasure.He had talked with Rhaenyra about the battle plans and then he went to call for Y/n to spend the night with her.

Y/n is learning to be patience,so she observes him:she looks at his long silver hair tickling down his neck,the first buttons of his shirt open and his lips reading.His purple eyes are hidden behind the paper in his hand:he has a curved back and his arms resting on his thighs.

Y/n can't help but think about how much he likes Daemon,even with sweaty hair,especially like that. So human,so true.In that little corner that is created between them,in the late evening,in that room.

It seems to her that everything else does not exist,that the world is not that terrible place dominated by fire and blood,that human beings are free,that she can love Daemon and that Daemon can love her.

And so she wait impatiently on the bed with her bare feet rubbing placidly on the sheets«Do you still have a lot of those?»she whispers not to be heard outside the room and perhaps not to be heard even by Daemon himself,because she knows how this war is important and how easy he is to piss off.

«Yes.»Daemon answer was short and he didn’t moved a inch from his previous position.

Y/n didn’t responded.She barely snorts and drops her head on the pillow.Her mental balance is quickly faltering.After that day all she wants is Daemon,she wants to forget,she wants sex and to hold him.

She wants to tell him all those things that can only be said in bed.Where she could pretend to be princess,the only woman in his life,the only one that he has ever touched and wanted like this.

«I'm almost done.»Daemon then adds without saying anything else.

But Y/n smiles.She knows that message.Daemon does this when he realizes that he has been too rude,too unpleasant or cold especially after a battle.

«Alright.»Y/n lifts her back from the mattress and leans with her forehead against his.

It's hot.She breathes his perfume and goes straight into her veins and it's like wood on the fire:she can't do it and grabs him by the jaw and makes his head turn to the side,she kisses him with her tongue,puts it in his mouth as much as she can and then bites his lip.The breath hiss against her cheek because there is not enough room for the air to pass through.

Y/n hears him moaning with annoyance but he doesn't move.And the balance is lost in that fire of souls and bodies that is being consumed.

He puts a hand in her hair and kisses her again.He wants it,he wants it more than anything,more than revenge,more than blood.Daemon indulges her because after all he needs it too,he needed the taste of skin,the smell of her body,that balance was broken,broken like them.

Then he turns around and puts a hand around her neck and pushes her forcefully against the mattress.That's enough to start to make her feel the familiar warmth between her legs.

Daemon notices it right away.He knows she likes it,he knows it excites her.He blocks the air in her throat and sticks his index finger in her mouth.

«Do you want me to fuck you,little girl?»his voice is far more gentle than the one he use to commands armies,but still it made her shiver«Is that what you want?»he could still sound so authoritative.

«Yes.»Y/n mutters with his finger in her mouth and the air that lacks in her lungs.

«I told you that I’m almost done.»he reminded her,referring to all the papers that were now on the cold floor.

Y/m mumbles something similar to a «I’m sorry.»her eyes are shiny.She’s red in the face and looks so desperate.

Daemon loosens his grip«Never mind,you made me want it too.»he said.

He kisses her without taking his hand off her neck,he kisses her vigorously,his tongue that caresses hers and in that moment she knows that Daemon has also lost control,the balance.

Y/n stretches her hand on his dressed erection and squeezes it,feels it hard,feels it warm and tense and this makes her arch her hips while they still kiss.

He once told her that dragons prefer heat and right now she feels like she's in a hot bath:her body is on fire.Daemon is able to do that to her,she doesn't understand it,she doesn't control it.She can't.

Y/n bites his lip and slowly unbuttons his shirt, discovers his chest like the first time and finds it – like every time – beautiful.

Even after a battle he always looks so clean,in this he reminds her of her mother.But Daemon more, he’s cleaner,more beautiful,more like fire and balance at the same time.He’s is the greatest contradiction of her life;yet,her greatest certainty.

Daemon hikes the material of her nightgown up her soft legs,keeping them open with his beautiful and muscular thighs.Trapping her in his spider web of pleasure and warmth.

Before Daemon,Y/n had never been interested in sex,or men.To anything that wasn't living another day on the island.Then he came looking for her,first as a soldier then as a man.

And he killed and at the same time gave birth to a part of her.By now her life was divided into before and after of Daemon.

He let the nightgown slide over her rib cage,his fingers feels like fire as they trace a path on her pure skin leaving goosebumps all over it.Her breast,her perky little nipples,the way her chest rise and fall so fast was enough to drive him crazy.He takes the nightgown off and leaves it at the foot of the bed with the grace that distinguishes him.

He leaves her neck flushed just to place a messy kiss on her puffy and rosy lips«It's really too easy to get you excited,little girl.» he murmurs,perhaps more to himself than to her.

However,Y/n is not embarrassed because she sees him in the same state:then with a tacit look she asks him for permission to undress him and finishes untiening his shirt, in a hurry as only she can do,then she moves on to his belt and pants.

He feels her skin on fire when his naked body matches with her own,when his erection and her wet flower meet and dance like their tongues.There is something poetic in that dirty dance,because everyone knows they shouldn't do it,but it's the only thing that makes it stable in that life devoid of any meaning,devoid of balance and certainties.

Daemon and his body,Daemon and his perfume,Daemon and his mouthpiece.Daemon and his tongue digging into her mouth as if to want to suck even the last particle of oxygen into her lungs.Daemon and that rude and delicate way of doing things at the same time that sends him into ecstasy when he fights and fucks her.

He takes his time preparing her,caressing and tasting the sweet wet flower in between her legs.The purest ambrosia gifted by the gods,the most delicious sounds of pleasure.She feels his hot erection pressing against her little entrance,ready to ravish her.

Y/n tries to relax just like he taught her but her heart is stally and suddenly she feels like she is in a battle:she clings to Daemon hair,loses her balance on her elbows and leaves herself totally to him.

Daemon enters her with a blow drier than his hip,he mutters something in her mouth,as he bites her lips red as blood and she scratches his back.There is no need for words:he begins to push,and she feels her flesh give way,widen for him and make room for him,squeeze him in that welcoming way that vaguely reminds Daemon of home.

He pushes and Y/n tries to breathe as best as he can,she looks for oxygen that is not there,touches him on his back and spreads her legs more:she wants it more,more,more.She doesn't even have the strength to call his name for how strong the thrusts are and he touches that point so sweet and secret inside of her that makes her tremble.The one she,sometimes,looked for on her own but never found.Daemon knows how to touch it,he knows how to loosen her every uncovered nerve.

He knows how to make her lose her balance and then find her in that bath of sweat and moods,saliva and scratches.

The bed squeaches and no one cares,not even that anyone can hear them at that moment because,when they are together there is nothing else.The sheets are a disaster under their bodies, they are the perfect synthesis of what is going on in that bed.

Y/n welcomes the thrusts of Daemon,welcomes the moans with her mouth,squeezes him between his thighs and does not let him go but indulges him in that fluid and dancing movement.

The hands that squeeze her neck,then her arms and then her ass.

And then the orgasm comes like a thread that suddenly breaks;like a rubber band that breaks and bounces into the body and mind.He hits her deeply and can't help but indulge in those sensations.To that sea that invests her at the same time while Daemon comes inside her but she no longer understands anything.

Y/n feel like she is on a cloud,she feel like she is flying.The sweat-soaked back doesn't touch the bed but the sky.

And all of a sudden everything becomes calms and quiet.

Daemon kisses her shoulders as if to console her because he knows her thoughts,he knows his little girl.He cautiously gets out of her and moves to her side.And the balance in silence returns,as the beats of their heart slow down.

Because after all,life was a game of balance,and that was the perfect balance for them.

[edenvinity]

some pretty quinn pictures 💕 (straight from my TV)

ALSOOOO quinn says that jacks supposed to fly out and join them in the next 2 days SO !!!!!

[giraffenamjoon]

wherever you are (jihoon x f!reader)

summary: when you notice your boyfriend struggling during his recent tour, you fly across the ocean to surprise him.

word count: 5,097

genre: PWP, my usual mix of fluffy smut

warnings: established relationship, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation (m), dirty talk, romance, fluff, idol!Woozi, Soonyoung and Seokmin are affectionately annoying. There's not much to warn about here, it's just pretty standard romance. :)

read on AO3: wherever you are

playlist: Home - Seventeen | Crave You - Clazziquai | Heaven - Tomorrow x Together | Wherever u r (ft. V) - Umi

Happy Woozi Day!!!! 🎊 As always, comments and reblogs are super appreciated! 💕

[bellasprettywords]

So High School (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: It’s me, hi, so I’m kind of back, although I’ve decided to expand my horizons and also write for Doctor Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds; either way, I hope you like this little writing🤭💕

This one shot is inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift from The Tortured Poets Department, which is my current obsession, so if you are swifties, I hope you guys catch the references 🫶🏼

This is season 2 Spencer, cause I just really dig the shy-sweet vibe

This is not proofread, as it’s 2 am, but I couldn't stop

y/n – your name

Warnings: Friends to lovers (kindish), mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2,409

My Masterlist

Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, but every now, and then you’d have days when all you had pending was paperwork, and you’d catch a break. Like right now, sure, you still had a couple of reports to get through, but overall the mood seemed relaxed, even if you’d been working nonstop for the last 24 hours.

You were typing your reports and sporadically, you’d catch a glance of Spencer Reid’s concentrated face, whose desk was in front of you. Sure, you were work friends, but deep down you knew you had a small crush on the twenty-five-year-old Doctor. Your thoughts were starting to fly away, thinking about Spencer's hair, framing his delicate features, his big eyes, which seemed to move frantically over the computer screen, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was invested into his work, and the way his brows were crunching, making small wrinkles in his forehead; when suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted.

“You know what we should do? We should play kiss, marry, kill” Penelope suggested way too loudly coming into the bullpen with a huge grin and walking frantically to your desk.

“What are you even saying?” exclaimed Emily, standing from her chair and approaching your desk

“We still have to finish our reports” said Spencer, who seemed to be glued ho his computer, taping frenetically

“Did I just hear kiss, marry, kill?” Morgan approached your desk and one by one, the gang was coming all together

“Okay, first round, y/n, kiss, marry, kill with Gideon, Hotch and Rossi?” Penelope asked a little too excited for the question

“Come on, I’m not answering that” you said chuckling at the thought of even giving a response

“Comeeeeeee ooooooon” this time Morgan insisted and the absurdity of the question made you laugh so hard, Spencer looked up from his computer

“Fine, kiss Rossi, marry Hotch and kill Gideon, because he has way too much dad energy to kiss or marry him” you said, and your friends burst out laughing

“We are way too sleep-deprived to be here” Emily said chuckling, “Also, I’m starving”

“I have a frozen pizza at home I just can’t wait to devour” you said and suddenly your friend's eyes seemed to sparkle

“Now that I know that, I’m totally going home with you” Penelope said clinging to your arm

“I’m tagging along as well” Emily added clinging into your other arm

“They say three is a multitude, so I’m coming, just to keep you guys in check” Morgan exclaimed, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to add himself into your plans, but unfortunately, the young doctor was back into his working frenezzy.

“Como on Spence, we are going home” you said hoping he’d tag along to your improvised plan, even if you were almost certain he’d say no, considering he didn’t really talk to you other than work related business; and rarely info dumped on you, which made you a little sad, considering his info dumps were one of the things that you most liked about him.

“Excuse me?” Spencer said crunching his eyebrows and staring over his screen monitor into your eyes

“We… we are all coming to my house to eat pizza, I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come” you stuttered and felt your cheeks become red. Anytime, you’d try to talk to Spencer about anything other than work, words would trip out of your mouth incomprehensibly, your cheeks would flush in a bright shade of red, and you were pretty sure anyone with a brain knew about your crush, specially considering you’d act like a high schooler in love around him.

“Come on man, we can even trow some poker to sweetener the deal for you” Morgan added

“Also, y/n told me that she has the new Grand Theft Auto, so we could play for a while” Penelope tried convincing Spencer appealing to his love for video games, and if it wasn’t obvious before, well, it was obvious now that you were eager to have the boy-genius at your place

“Alright, let me just grab my bag” Spencer said calmly, almost… oblivious to the fact that your friends were playing smooth wingman and wing-woman

“Penny and I are driving together, and Derek is taking his bike, so Reid, you can drive with y/n” Emily said and for a second, you couldn't believe how shamelessly uncool your friends were being about the whole situation

“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate riding with you” Spencer told you a little… flustered? No way, you were the one fangirling over him, maybe he was just getting secondhand embarrassment for the whole situation and your friend’s pathetic attempts to get you together.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The ride home was quite nice, Spencer seemed to loosen up when he got the chance to share statistics on pizza consuming habits in the U.S. and somehow, he managed to incorporate the history of pizza:

“So, a precursor of pizza was probably the focaccia, a flatbread known to the Romans as panis focacius, to which toppings were then added. Modern pizza evolved from similar flatbread dishes in Naples, Italy, between the 16th and mid-18th century” Spencer kept explaining, while you took the chance to steal a couple of glances, even if it was a driving hazard “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are bored with my nonstop chatter” the young Doctor added shyly

“No way, I really enjoy your facts and stories” you said, and a shy smile formed into his lips, so you took a leap of faith, hoping with all your heart he wouldn't be uncomfortable with what you were about to say “I love the way your mind works, I find it amazing how you can just know so much, you know?”

“Thank you, it is called an eidetic memory, most people think it’s weird” Spencer said looking down to his hands, that were lying over his lap.

OH MY GO, WAS DOCTOR SPENCER REID BLUSHING? You were trying your best to hide your excitement, and luckily you were saved by the bell, as without realizing it, you were already parking in front of your apartment building

“So this is me, home sweet home” you said turning off the engine of your car and Spencer gave you a side smile that made your stomach flutter

“Thanks for the drive, and you know, for having me” he said, and you were high on his words; everything about him seemed to fascinate you, but before your mind could go wild, Morgan tapped your car window to let you know he was there, and after a couple of minutes, Penelope and Emily were outside as well

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I’ll put the pizza in the oven, so maybe we can play a round of poker while we wait?” you suggested as your friends took a seat at the table, and you handed them a beer each.

“That’s what I’m talking about” Morgan said, already shuffling the deck of cards. The game was fun, although Spencer won each and every round. The night was everything you could ask for, Spencer seemed comfortable at your apartment, and he even got around to joking and laughing out loud.

“Truth or dare?” Morgan said spinning his empty beer bottle with mischief in his eyes, and laughs started bursting, until it landed on Emily

“Truth” she said glancing at Morgan with amusement

“Have you even come into work tipsy?” Morgan asked

“Alright, yeah, once when we were working with the Newport Police” she replied calmly “Now, have anything stronger?” Emily asked, lifting her beer bottle

“As a matter of fact, I do” you said standing from your chair and bringing different alcohol bottles, you had a wide selection of whiskey, wine, rum, tequila, and vodka

“What are you? A bartender?” Penelope asked, surprised by the alcohol selection.

“I tried, I even got a book, but between life and work I never got around to reading it” you added pouring your friends a couple of drinks.

Emily spun the bottle, and it landed on Spencer, who gulped a little too loudly, and you couldn’t keep your eyes from his Adam’s apple “Truth or dare, boy-genius?” she asked taking you off from your thought

“I… mm… truth?” he said almost too afraid of what your friends could think about asking him

“Alright, what do you think about y/n?” Emily asked bluntly, and you could see Spencer’s cheeks turning red. Sure, you loved your friends, but their mingling was getting way too obvious for your mental health

“I… I think she’s great, I mean, of course she is incredibly smart, she’s sweet, funny, and she has a special way to always makes you feel heard and taking into consideration. It is undeniably that she’s pretty, I mean, and… yeah that's what I think” Spencer said staring into your eyes, and you couldn't believe it, you literally were wonderstruck.

Did he like you? Did he just admit you were pretty? You were literally on cloud nine when you realized Spencer had spun the bottle, and this time it was facing you

“What’s… What’s your favorite movie?” Spencer asked shyly, and all eyes turned to him

“Come on man, that was your shot” Morgan said leaning into Spencer

“That changes, but right now I’d say American Pie” you said trying not to sound too embarrassed. Secrets were spilled, confessions were made, and shots were taken, until Penelope spun the bottle and once more, it landed on Spencer

“Truth or dare, lover-boy?” Penelope asked a little too excited, which once more made Spencer a little nervous, considering the situation, and of course, the fact that he pretty much just admitted having a crush on you

“Dare?” Spencer said, almost asking

“Uuuh I got a great one, read y/n’s bartender book, and then prepare us some fire ass drinks” she said almost euphoric

“Oh, okay, sure, I can do that” Spencer said released a breath he didn't realize he was holding “y/n, would you mind lending me the book? So I can read it, please?” he asked shyly, and you knew this was your chance to make a move

“Of course, although I’m not sure where it is, so… maybe you can help me find it?” you asked hoping he caught the subtext

“Yes, yes I can help you look” he said, and a little grin formed into his lips

“What about playing the Grand Theft Auto whille they go lok for the book?” Morgan asked smootly, giving you just what you needed, a chance to slip to the side with Spencer

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You were now in your room, with the guy that made your stomach flutter, and once again, you coultn shake away the feeling of being a sixteen year old girl approaching her crush for the first time. Okay, so until now you knew there was a chance he actually liked you, so for the first time, you tried to flirt smootly

“So, the book must me somewhere on this wall” you told Spencer pointing at the wall-tall-bookshelf that adorned your room

“That is an impressive collection” Reid said admiring your books

“Thank you, I like… reading, and of course, books” you mumbled and between the nerves of having him in your room, and the fact that he was aproaching you, starring directly at your eyes, your braing wasn’t braining it. This defenetly wasn’t considered smooth, or flirty

“Truth or dare?” Spencer said coming closer to you

“Truth” you responded almost instantly

“Why is American Pie your favorite movie?” he asked, and the question genualy threw you off

“I know most people think it’s a really stupid movie, but even in those crazy scenarios, the guys get to laugh, and learn about life, sure, it’s twisted, and watching to too your can defenetly cause issues, but I think it’s a great piece of cinematography”

“That’s impressive, altough I can’t judge, as I’ve never got arroud to watch it” Spencer said, moving a little, and turning back to your book collection

“Truth or dare, Doctor Reid?” you asked playfully

“Truth” he said chuckling, and once again, you confirmed his little laughs sent a dopamine charge into your brain that was almost adictive

“What’s your favorite thing from my collection?” you asked, moving your hand motioning your bookshelf

“While you have an impressive Aristotle collection, which I’m a big fan of, right now my favorite thing in this room is not exactly a thing, but a person” he said once again leaning into you, “Truth or dare, miss y/n?” he asked coming even closer to your face

“Truth” you asked playing it safe, as he had suddenly turned into Doctor Smooth Reid, and seeing him take charge, was a side of him, one that you were totally enjoying

“What are you thinking about right now?” he said, leaning a little closer to you

“Actually, all I can think about right now is kissing you” you admited, bitting you lower lip, but not giving him time to answer, you asked “Truth or dare?”

“Dare” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from your eyes, to your lips and viceversa

“I dare you to kiss me” you said, and as you finished yout sentence, his hand was cupping your cheeck, his other hand was placed on your waste, and his lips were softly crashing into yours. The kiss was soft, and sweet, with a couple of bites in between. One kiss, then another one, and swiftly, Spencer made you turn, placing your back towards your bookshelf and getting closer to you, just like you, he longed for this moment, for your kiss, for your touch. You were enjoyoing yourselves way too much, when you heard a knock on your door, which made the two of you burst out laughing

“We should go back to them” Spencer said, placing a las kiss into your lips

“Maybe next Saturday you can come over, I mean, you can’t go though life without the rite of passage of watching American Pie” you said chuckling, hoping with all your flustered heard he’s say yes

“That would me wonderful, I can’t keep living like this, without watching American Pie, I mean” he said lacing his fingers with yours, and opening the door for you, so the two of you could go back to your friends, who were also laughing from the living room, as they were sure their mission of getting you together had been succesful.

Part 2

I really hope you liked it, let me know if you want part 2, as I'm pondering the idea of the American Pie date.

Kay, love you, bye 🩷

[staytinyweeniebeanie]

Han's Moving Castle

Pairing(s): Howl!Han Jisung x Sophie!reader

Content: Howl’s Moving Castle AU, fluff, one-shot (that has already turned into at least 2 parts)

Warning(s): Unwanted advances by some drunk guys, small mentions of violence

Word Count: 6.5k 

Summary: You live a simple life working in your late father’s hat shop, until you befriend an eccentric wizard that lives in a magical flying castle! 

A/N: I’ve had this idea cooking in my noggin since birthing this account and I am so SO EXCITED to finally share it with you all! This will deviate from the movie plot somewhat, but I mostly stuck to the original (and incredible) story! Part two to follow soon

Part one | Part two

My masterlist 💕

All credit for the amazing cover image to the amazing artist! (link in the pic caption)

The sound of a train’s whistle comforts you as you wander along the unfamiliar streets towards the bakery where your sister works. At least, you think you’re heading towards the bakery. Despite having lived in this town all your life, you’ve never been in this area and the streets and alleyways are so confusing…

You bring the crumpled paper with your sister’s hastily scribbled directions closer to your face and grumble, “Is this the alley where I turn right?” A quick look around offers no clues, so you shrug and turn right. 

You’re still squinting at the directions when you nearly collide with the bright blue uniformed chest of a soldier.  You gasp and take a step back quickly, timidly looking up at the man. He’s got one arm propped up on the wall to your left, and when he leans down into your space you smell alcohol on his breath. He must have just come out of the bar you spot over his shoulder, tucked into an alcove.

“Hey there,” he looks you up and down and warning bells start to ring in your head, “Looks like a little mouse lost its way.” 

“Oh, no, I’m not lost,” you reply quickly and force a polite smile on your face. You move to walk around him, but another soldier steps out from the alcove and stands directly in front of you, blocking your path. “The little mouse looks thirsty, maybe we should take her for a cup of tea?” the first soldier says to his buddy. 

You pull your straw hat down nervously, “No thanks, my sister is expecting me.” Your shaky voice betrays your growing nerves and you dig your fingers into the skirt of your dress to disguise their trembling.  

It’s no matter, the second soldier is crowding into your space, “She’s pretty cute for a mouse!” he ogles you while the first continues to probe, “How old are you anyways? You live around here?” 

“Leave me alone!” 

You nearly shout it, but you’re starting to get scared and the polite approach doesn’t seem to be working. 

But the men aren’t deterred, in fact, they seem amused by your outburst. “You scare all the girls off with that mustache,” one says, “So? I think she’s even cuter when she’s scared.” 

Your heart races while you try to think of a way to escape these creepy men, when suddenly an arm wraps around your shoulders and you’re tucked gently into a warm chest. 

“There you are baby, sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you!” a velvety voice purrs. 

You whip your head around to see a boyishly handsome man smirking over your shoulder and all of your previous thoughts come to a screeching halt. You’ve heard stories of the great wizard “Han” with his golden silky hair, tan skin, and sparkling eyes. And the man currently wrapped around you (like a lover! your mind supplies) bears a striking resemblance. 

The soldiers protest and you tune back in just in time to hear the man say, “It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving.” And with a flick of his wrist, the soldiers stand at attention and march away like puppets on a string, their shouts of confusion echoing along the empty alley. 

No doubt in your mind, Han Jisung just rescued you…  

He turns to you then with a soft smile and asks, “Where to? I’ll be your escort this evening.” 

It would seem the rumors of Han’s beauty are 100% true, he’s mesmerizing this close up with big round eyes partially obscured by shiny blonde locks, and pouty lips pulled up into a heart-shaped smile. Your face heats as you stutter through your original destination of your sister’s bakery.  

“Don’t freak out, but I think I’m being followed” Han whispers and he slides the arm that was resting on your shoulder down to gently grab your hand and tuck it into his elbow like a proper gentleman. “Just act normal!” he winks and starts tugging you along. A quick glance over your shoulder at the strange blob creatures seeping out of the walls and ground make you squeak and press even closer into Han’s side.

Up ahead, more blob creatures materialize out of the ground and you gasp as Han yanks you down a side street. “Sorry, looks like you’re involved,” He says cheerfully and you scowl at him as you both nearly run down the street. “Don’t look at me like that baby- Oh!” Han cuts himself off with a gasp when further down the street even more creatures appear. You’re surrounded and they are closing in fast, your scowl deepens.

“Hold on!” Han wraps his arm around your waist and the two of you immediately shoot up into the air, the creatures colliding where you were just standing a second ago. 

The quick ascent steals the breath from your lungs before you can let loose a screech, so you curl up protectively, anticipating a just as abrupt descent. 

But it doesn’t come.  

When you gather the courage to open your eyes, you see that you’re floating up above the tall buildings and bustling streets below and now you’re breathless for an entirely different reason. The view from this height is absolutely beautiful. You can see the smoke plume from a train, the flurry of activity on the streets below, all the people running around like colorful ants.  

Han leans in to speak directly into your ear and his deep voice makes you shiver, “Now straighten your legs and just keep walking.” He leads you into step with him with a firm hold of both of your hands as you find your balance on absolutely nothing but air. It should be impossible, but you are strolling through the sky as if you’re on solid ground.

In no time, you’re hopping gracefully from rooftop to rooftop and a delighted giggle escapes you. Han chuckles with you and says, “You are a natural!” which makes you smile wide and squeeze his hands excitedly. 

You both hop off the decorative spire of a building and descend onto the balcony of what you assume is the bakery your sister works at. You almost don’t want the moment to end, traipsing through the sky with a wizard as if it were an everyday occurrence, this was the most extraordinary moment of your life.

But all magical things must come to an end.

Your dress flutters around you as Han carefully sets you down on the wooden floor of the balcony while he perches a little unsteady on the railing. You hold his hand tighter to keep him from tipping backwards and he sends a sheepish smile your way.

Once balanced, his glittering eyes hold you captive and he slowly slips his hand from yours. “I’ll make sure to draw them off, but wait a bit before you head back outside,” he warns. You nod and bring your tingling hand to your chest with a shy smile, “Okay!”

“That’s my girl~” Han’s coat swirls around in the wind as he swings an arm out to his side and launches himself off the balcony and into the crowded street below. Your heart lurches as you rush to look over the railing to see if he’s alright, but he’s gone.

After a short visit with your bewildered sister, you trek back home, taking the bus this time around as you aren’t eager to repeat the earlier incident, especially with the sun having set long ago. But as you walk the last bit of your journey home, you can’t help but reflect on your time with Han knowing that it was not a dream after all. He was handsome and kind and he rescued you! Butterflies are still flying around in your stomach but they settle a bit when you recall your sister’s warnings…  

“You were lucky nothing happened to you, he could have stolen your heart!” Lettie exclaimed, grasping your arm as if to protect you from such a fate. You shook your head with a self-deprecating laugh, “He only takes the hearts of beautiful girls, Lettie.” 

Lettie looks like she’s gearing up to argue with you putting down your looks again, but she’s interrupted by one of the other bakers letting her know the chocolate eclairs are fresh out of the oven. She sighs and turns back to you, “Still, Y/N, even the Wizard of the Waste is rumored to be back on the prowl… you need to be more careful”.

With a weary sigh, you step through the entrance of your family’s hat shop, closing and locking the door behind you. You remove your hat and head towards the counter at the back of the room. It’s dark, so you pull out a match and light an oil lamp, bathing the room in a warm glow. 

The bells over the entrance chime again and you turn, puzzled to find a tall man in a black fur coat and matching wide-brim hat closing the door behind himself. He doesn’t say anything and you can’t see his face from across the room. Nonetheless, you speak up, “I’m sorry. But the shop’s closed now, sir. I could have sworn I locked that door, must have forgotten” you mutter the last part to yourself. 

“What a tacky shop, filled with such tacky hats” the man comments and strolls leisurely up to the counter. “You might be the tackiest thing here though, doll.” You spy plush lips pulled up into a smirk under the brim of the hat and your temper flares. It’s been a strange day and your patience for rude customers that come in after hours and insult you is nowhere to be found. 

You clench your fists and try to hang on to your customer service persona, “I’m afraid you will have to leave now, sir,” you walk over and hold the door open for him just to really make your point clear. “The door is over here, sir. We’re closed.” you say firmly.

The stranger lifts his head enough that you can now see his strikingly handsome face and long, wispy black hair curling at the ends. “Standing up to the Wizard of the Waste? That’s bold.” His face lights up with a mischievous grin and you gasp as the gravity of this situation dawns on you. 

Before you can even attempt to make a run for it, what you assume are his henchmen fill the door of your shop. Panic builds in your chest and you whip around to face the wizard, but he’s already flying towards you. You curl into yourself and brace for impact when suddenly, you’re engulfed in inky blackness, a strange energy filling your body that makes you shudder. 

“You wanna know the best part of that spell?” the wizard quips as he sweeps through you and out onto the porch in front of the shop, “You can’t tell anyone about it~” 

“Give Han my regards,”  he throws over his shoulder as he cackles and disappears into the night.

Still hunched over, you slowly unfold and cautiously look around the shop, but the wizard is long gone. You reach down to pick up your fallen hat but stop short at the sight of your hands, wrinkled and gnarled-looking. 

You rush over to the three-sided mirror propped up on a nearby table and gasp in horror at the elderly face looking back at you. Poking and prodding at your drooping skin, multitude of wrinkles, and much shorter and thinner hair doesn’t change the fact that the old woman in the mirror is you. That blasted wizard cursed you and now you look as if you’ve aged 50 years!

“I-I’ve got to stay calm!” you sputter and try to steady your racing heart and mind. Maybe this whole day has been some wild and crazy dream? Perhaps, if you hurry to your room and go to sleep, you’ll wake up and life will be back to normal? 

With a tentative plan in place, you set off to your room, but this old body is slow and your joints and back ache something fierce when you slowly make your way up the stairs. Finally settled in your cozy room you fall into a fitful sleep…

The next morning brings no change; it’s official, you’re an old woman now. At least, until you can figure out a way to lift your curse.

“This isn’t so bad,” you smile weakly at yourself in the mirror in your bedroom, “you're still in pretty good shape and your clothes finally suit you now!” 

The little pep talk does wonders for your mood and after getting your mom and the other girls that work in the shop off your back (a white lie about being sick won’t hurt them, right?), you pack a bundle of food, your favorite hat and shawl, and set off. 

Your destination? The Wastes. Afterall, that’s where witches and wizards are rumored to reside. 

You eventually find a father/son duo with a truck full of hay and just enough room for one more passenger. They are willing to take you to their farm situated on the very edge of town and it’s as close as you can get to the Wastes via the road. The ride is bumpy on your old bones, but in no time you’re waving goodbye to the nice family and hobbling off on the footpath.

It’s so different navigating the world as an elderly woman! People want to help you cross the street, and offer their spots on the bus, it’s quite pleasant. The only downside so far has been your frail joints and aching back that protest any strenuous activity. 

You trek further into the Wastes, breathing heavily and having to stop every 10 minutes or so to rest, “I’ll never make it with these legs,” you grumble. You make it to the top of the hill and plop down on a soft patch of grass to pick at the bread and cheese you packed, idly admiring the view of the (still too close) city and the neighboring mountains. Your wandering eyes land on a sturdy looking branch sticking out a bush several meters away and you have the bright idea to use it as a cane.

“Up we go,” you groan and struggle back into a standing position, pops and cracks accompanying you as you walk over to the bush. 

“Hmm, might be too small…” you murmur and start pulling on the branch trying to free it. It’s stuck pretty good in the bush though, and you’re not as strong as you used to be. Taking a second to catch your breath, you shake your finger at the branch, “You won’t get the best of this old lady!” and get back to work.

A couple more tugs and out pops a clothed figure that makes you yelp and stumble back. “Oh! You’re just a scarecrow, I thought you were one of those blob men” you laugh at your overreaction and look over the rather cute looking thing, “but how are you standing on your own?” 

Indeed, this scarecrow is standing maybe only one to two heads taller than you, which seems small for a scarecrow? And it’s wearing a tattered suit jacket and skirt that might have been fancy before succumbing to the elements (you swear you can even make out a faint designer label on the jacket, something with LV?) along with silk gloves, and a tophat that’s seen better days. As you take a closer look at its head, you realize it’s made of a turnip! And someone’s given this scarecrow hair and a face! Yellow strands of what looks like straw stick out from the hat and you swear the turnip has freckles that stretch across where its nose would be. 

“Your head’s a turnip!” you giggle and rest your hands on your hips, “I’ve always hated turnips, ever since I was a little kid.” 

Scarecrows shouldn’t be able to change facial expressions but this one’s big cheesy grin seems to fall a bit at your comment. Scrambling to find something nicer to say as it would seem you’ve offended the poor thing you blurt out, “At least you’re not upside down anymore, so long!” 

Maybe a hasty retreat would be better, you’ve got witches and wizards to find afterall and no cane to aid you now that you know it’s attached to this turnip head. 

Back on the uneven trail, you continue your journey. The sun is starting to set and the wind is picking up, it feels as though it’s blowing right through you. You look back to see how much progress you’ve made and to your dismay, the town still seems so close it’s like you’ve barely moved. On top of that, you can see that scarecrow you freed hopping along several paces back. 

“Go away, quit following me! There’s no need to thank me, you don’t owe me a thing!” you call out and wave your arms, hoping the scarecrow would just leave you be. You’d guess it also has some kind of curse on it and you’ve had enough of that these past couple days. You turn back around, bundle your shawl closer to your body, and continue walking.

But the scarecrow persists and hops along behind you until it catches up. It stops suddenly and drops a cane directly in front of you, “Hmm? For me?” 

Somehow it’s the perfect height for you and the handle is carved and painted like a bright yellow baby chick, you take it and give a grateful smile to the scarecrow, “Thank you, this cane is so cute and perfect! It’s just what I needed!” The scarecrow hops and twirls at your words and you think it’s happy to have helped you. 

Another bright idea takes root in your mind, “If you’d like to do me one more favor, you could hop off and find me a place to stay?” Almost immediately, the scarecrow goes hopping back the way it came and you snicker to yourself. Well that’s one problem taken care of!

The last bits of sunlight reflect off the metal of a battleship overhead and you take a moment to admire it, you’ve never seen one this close before! But a strong gust of wind swiftly reminds you that very soon the sun will disappear beyond the horizon and you’ll be even colder than you are now. You’ve got to find shelter soon. 

You walk maybe another half hour, it’s well and truly dark now, before you’re forced to rest again. Curling up as small as you can to preserve body heat, you are beginning to regret your half thought-out plan to wander the Wastes in search of someone to lift your curse. 

Amidst your heavy breathing you catch the scent of a smoke, “Someone’s got a fire going… Maybe there’s a cabin nearby!” 

You use your cane to help you stand and with a little more pep in your step, you approach the crest of a hill.

A giant, hissing, and creaking castle comes into view, and it’s walking directly towards you with that infernal scarecrow leading the way, your jaw drops. 

“You turnip head, that’s Han’s castle!” You shake your cane at the cursed vegetable as it hops over to you, “That is not what I meant when I asked you to find me a place to stay!” 

The hulking castle comes to a stop directly over your head and lets out what sounds like a big metallic groan, before continuing on. As you watch it pass, your scarecrow friend hops over to what looks like a doorway hanging off the back of the castle. 

“Is that the way in?!” you exclaim and start running as fast as your old body can manage. 

You’re so close to catching the railing in your hand but it remains just out of reach. “Slow down, please!” you beg the castle, “Are you going to let me in or not?” 

The castle must hear your pleas and it basically scoops you up onto the little porch in front of the door. You lose your shawl in the process and your scarecrow hops away after it when it sees you looking back forlornly.

You take a peek inside the door, but you can’t see much past a short stairway as it’s dark. Your scarecrow quickly returns with your shawl, hopping along with the moving castle, and you give it a big smile. “Thank you Turnip Head, it’s nice and warm in there so I’m going in. I’m sure Han won’t eat the heart of an old lady like me.”  

Turnip Head gives you a twirl and hops a little slower now and the distance grows between you. Though you just met the poor thing, you are already attached and sad to see it leaving. 

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, even if you are my least favorite vegetable!” you call out, “Take care Turnip Head!” 

You blow a kiss to it, and head inside, closing the door behind you. 

Peeking around cautiously, you make out a typical, but messy, living space with a hearth in the center of the room, there’s a small fire still going and a lone chair positioned right in front of it. You don’t spy the wizard or anyone else for that matter lingering around, so you cautiously make your way up the stairs 

You add a couple logs to the dwindling fire and plop into the seat with a great big sigh. Burrowing into your shawl, you feel your eyes growing heavy, the events of the day pulling you towards sleep. 

“At least when you’re old, nothing frightens you anymore” you think out loud. 

Eyes closed and seconds from slipping into dreamland, you startle back awake when a voice chimes in, “I don’t envy you, lady. That is one bad curse.” 

You blink your eyes open and are even more surprised to see that the fire now has a face! Two feline-looking eyes and a grin with front teeth that remind you of a bunny. And it’s speaking to you! “Curses are tough, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting rid of that one.” The fire even has little arms that are curling up on the log you just added, all casual-like, as it chats with you. 

“The fire spoke!” it’s all you can say at the moment as you try to wrap your head around this. Surely this talking fire must be the wizard, Han?

“Let me guess,” the fire continues speaking, “the curse won’t allow you to talk about it?”

You disregard the comment and instead ask, “Are you Han?” 

That must be the wrong question, the fire looks annoyed and rolls its eyes. It flickers wildly and grows taller and louder as it replies, “No, pabo! I’m an extremely powerful fire demon named Minho!” 

The sudden heat and loud voice make you cower in your seat but the fire quickly shrinks back to its previous size flame and smugly follows up with, “I like to do that once in a while~”

Apparently fire demons like to scare old ladies for fun… but wait, “You’re a fire demon! You should be able to break my curse!” You scoot closer to the hearth with excitement in your eyes, sleepiness gone for now. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Minho doesn’t even have shoulders but he shrugs somehow. “Listen, if you can find a way to break the spell that’s on me, then I’ll break the spell that’s on you, got it?” he drawls, but you’re not fully convinced just yet.

“If you’re a demon, how do I know I can trust you? Do you promise to help me if I help you?” you raise an eyebrow and cross your arms, settling back in your chair. 

Minho grumbles something about demons “not making promises” so you roll your eyes and counter, “then find somebody else.” The whining really starts up then, you didn’t know fire demons were so sassy! Minho’s complaining, loudly, about all the things Han forces him to do like heating his bath water and moving the castle and all you can offer is a, “that’s rough” as his chattering brings you back to the edge of sleep. 

“If you can figure out this whatevership I’m in with Han, then you can break my spell. After that, I can easily break your spell.” He finishes and looks up at you hopefully. 

“Alright,” you hum and blink slowly, “it’s a deal.” You promptly fall asleep, snoring lightly and oblivious to Minho’s attempts to wake you back up. “Some help you’re going to be, old lady.” He lets out a puff of smoke and gives up.

Noisy and insistent knocking on the door you came in wakes you up from your exhausted slumber on the uncomfy wooden chair. Your bones creak and protest as you sit up and you’ve definitely developed a crick in your neck from the awkward sleeping position. The knocking persists and you’re debating if you should get up and answer when suddenly you hear hurried footsteps upstairs. You gasp and feign sleep as the mystery person descends the stairs, stumbling on the last couple. 

The stranger walks hesitantly up to your chair and a sweet and bright voice pipes up, “Hey, who is this lady?” but Minho just answers with, “Porthaven door.” The stranger scurries towards the door, still questioning Minho, “How’d she get in here?” and you chance a peek.

The stranger is actually a young man, maybe a few years younger than you (you’re real age of course) with wild curly ginger hair and he’s digging through a pile of things on a table haphazardly until he pulls out a cloak. He pulls the cloak on, flipping the hood up quickly and it disguises his young and fox-life face with a ridiculously long beard. He mumbles a short, “Stand by” in a deeper voice than his natural tone and nearly trips down the stairs before turning a dial you didn’t notice on the door handle and yanking it open. 

An official looking man with a couple guards behind him stands on the other side. 

“Mr. Mayor, good day,” the disguised young man greets him. 

“Is the great Wizard J.One home?” asks the Mayor. 

The young man is answering him, something about speaking in his absence, and you listen on as you get up and grab Minho a couple fresh logs. You catch the gist of the message, a summons for Han to report to the King to aid in the ongoing war. You shake your head and grumble, “I can’t believe it’s come to this.” 

The still-disguised young man comes back up the stairs and gives you a very unimpressed look, still faking a deep voice when he examines you, “And what do you think you’re doing here, Grandma?” 

You just smile innocently and nod at the fire demon, “Minho here said I could come in!” 

Minho protests immediately, “I did not! She wandered in from the Wastes!”, the young man removes his disguise and tilts his head looking like a cute little fox, “The Wastes? How do we know she’s not a witch?” 

You hide a laugh at the thought of you, a hat-maker-turned-old-lady, as a witch! 

The bell over the door chimes and Minho calls out, “Porthaven door again!” 

The young man tucks the letter the Mayor gave him into a massive book. “Must be a customer” he says and pulls his disguise cloak on once more. He speaks in that fake deep voice again “Stand by” and nearly trips down the stairs again, and opens the door. It’s a little girl this time, asking about a spell her mom wants her to pick up. 

Now that you aren’t pretending to be asleep, you get a good look at the street just past the door and it’s not the fields of the Wastes you were expecting. 

The young man brings the girl inside and warns you not to mess with anything. You disregard him and head straight to a window. You’re greeted with the shimmering ocean in the distance and seagulls overhead. “This is definitely not the Wastes…” you breathe.

The little girl asks if you’re a witch and you can’t resist the chance to joke around a bit, “Yes, I’m the scariest witch of them all!” you growl playfully. 

She giggles a bit nervously but then the young man is ushering her out with a baggie and instructions for how to use the spell. Once she’s gone he turns to you from the top of the stairs and rips off the cloak with an annoyed huff.

“Quit telling lies to our customers,” he says and glares at you, but his face sans disguise is so cute you can’t really take it seriously. Not to mention, “What about you? You’re wearing a disguise” you point out. He rolls his eyes and replies, “I have to, I’m practicing my magic” like it’s obvious and you should have known that fact. 

The bell over the door rings again, and Minho calls out, “Jeongin, it’s the Kingsbury door this time!” So that’s the young man’s name, Jeongin, it suits him you think.

Jeongin pulls the cloak hood back up, and miraculously doesn’t trip down the stairs this time as he repeats, “Stand by” and changes the dial again and opens the door. An even more official looking man stands on the other side and he asks, “Good day. Would this be the residence of the great Wizard Han Jisung?” Jeongin gives the same spiel about his master’s absence but you don’t even listen as you shuffle down the stairs and look out onto the street. 

You gasp when you realize where you are, “This is the royal city, isn’t it?” 

It would seem Jeongin has no patience for your awe, all he says is, “Move it Grandma, or you’ll lose your nose!” so you reluctantly step back inside and allow him to slam the door shut. 

You just have to try out this magical door yourself, so you flip through each setting, eagerly looking outside the door to see where it takes you. The blue setting is Porthaven, red is Kingsbury, and green is the Wastes, still windy and now covered with a thick fog when you peek outside. The moving castle is resting in the grass. 

“Leave it alone Grandma, I’m getting angry.” Jeongin leans over the railing, scowling at you and tapping his foot, clearly agitated. 

You don’t care though, you have to know, “So tell me, where does the black one lead?” 

Jeongin groans like your very presence causes him pain and responds, “Only Master Han knows that.” 

He walks off towards an even messier dresser and yanks open a drawer, “I need some breakfast, I’m starved.” He pulls out some bread and cheese and tries to clear a space on the table.

You walk over to where you now know the food is stored and discover eggs and uncooked bacon that still looks and smells good. 

“Don’t you want a real breakfast? Like bacon and eggs?” you ask Jeongin. He rolls his eyes, it would seem everyone in this house has an attitude problem, and explains, “Yeah, but we can’t use the fire, Master Han’s not here.”

Testing the weight of a cast iron pan hanging on the wall, you chuckle, “Don’t worry, I can cook!” Jeongin’s claims that Minho will only obey Han don’t deter you, it’s been too long since you had a decent meal, and how difficult can Minho be? It’s only bacon and eggs!

“That’s right lady, I’m not taking orders from you!” Minho blows a raspberry which shoots embers your way, but you just roll up your sleeves and set the basket of eggs and bacon down on the chair. “Alright Minho, let’s get cooking.” 

Jeongin sits back in a chair at the table, watching passively as you will surely fail to get Minho to cooperate.

Flames shoot almost to the ceiling when Minho yells, “I don’t cook! I’m a scary and powerful fire demon!”  he sticks a forked and fiery tongue out at you and waves his little fiery fists around. 

You just squint playfully at him and lean in to whisper, “How would you like a bucket of cold water in your face? Or maybe I should tell Han about our deal? Hmm?” 

Minho’s eyes take on a murderous glint and you’re sure if he could reach you, you’d be burnt to a crisp right now… 

“I should have never let you in!” he squawks and you cackle. 

You shove the frying pan into his flames and there’s a bit of a struggle as Minho’s arms try to push the pan off but you eventually succeed and Minho’s flames die down to a manageable height. 

“That’s a good fire ~” you coo and lay down the first slice of bacon. 

Minho crosses his arms and his eyes glare at you from the side of the pan, “Here’s another curse for you, may all your bacon burn” he hisses. 

You snort and glance back at Jeongin’s astonished face, “I think I want some tea too,” you muse, much to Minho’s indignation, “Do you have a kettle?” you ask. As if coming out of a daze, Jeongin nods and runs off to grab it. 

At that moment, Han returns, the dial above the door changing to black as he steps through the entrance. Jeongin immediately begins rattling off the messages from the king but Han is silent as he draws nearer to you and Minho. 

You nervously push the bacon around with a wooden spoon, you really didn’t think through what you’d say to Han the next time you saw him. 

Han stops right beside you and seems to look over the scene with an amused look in his eyes. “Minho? You’re being so obedient,” he comments, Minho fires up immediately, “Not on purpose! She bullied me!” 

“Not just anybody can do that…” Han hums and finally looks at you, “And you are, who?”

You clear your throat and put on a confident smile, “Uh, you can just call me Grandma Y/N! I’m your new cleaning lady, I just started today.” 

Han laughs, loud and captivating, and gently shoulders you over. “Give that to me,” He murmurs and his hand rests on yours for a moment, rings cold but palm pleasantly warm, and takes the spoon from you. 

“Give me two more slices of bacon and six of those eggs, please?” he asks politely, swinging the sizzling pan around so you can lay the bacon inside. 

He wordlessly asks for the eggs next and you watch as Han cooks the rest of your breakfast, feeding the egg shells to Minho and listening when the fire demon sasses him to flip the bacon, or add another egg. 

“So then, who hired you to clean?” Han raises an eyebrow at you for a moment, then focuses on the pan again. 

The lie comes quickly to you, “Minho did! He’s disgusted by how dirty it is in here.” 

Han just hums and yells for Jeongin to grab the plates. Jeongin groans but does as he’s asked. 

As Han takes the pan over to the table, Minho flares up again, “What, so you guys are going to eat while I do all the work?!” 

You all ignore him and go sit down at the table and you giggle at the sight of Minho flopping over dramatically on a burning log.

Jeongin’s cleared a spot for you but there are crumbs everywhere, you weren’t lying about this place being disgusting. 

Han divides up the food between the three plates and Jeongin excitedly presents you with three “clean” utensils to choose from. You make sure to give your spoon an extra wipe with the fabric of your dress before you eat with it and Jeongin pours tea in a chipped bowl. You’ve really got your work cut out for you…

Han slices some bread for the three of you and states, “Friends, let’s enjoy our meal,” so you tuck in. Jeongin downs his food with such enthusiasm and huge bites that you’re afraid he’ll choke. Meanwhile Han is just sipping his tea and staring at you, which makes you shy, so you look down at your plate.

“So what do you have hidden in your pocket, Y/N?” 

You’re beginning to like the way your name sounds in Han’s mouth, but you’re confused, you don’t remember putting anything in your pockets… When you check, sure enough, there’s a red folded piece of paper that you drop in Han’s outstretched hand. 

As soon as it touches his fingers the paper lights up and seems to lash at him. You gasp and watch it flutter to the table and burn a symbol into the wood before dissolving into ash. 

“Scorch marks! Can you read it, hyung?” Jeongin looks wide-eyed at the mark, bits of egg and bacon still stuck to his mouth.  

“It’s ancient sorcery, quite powerful too,” Han’s hair seems to float around him on some imaginary breeze and his face has a peculiar and wicked air that you haven’t seen on him yet. “The Wizard of the Waste?” Jeongin speculates. 

Han nods and reads the marks out loud, “You who swallowed a falling star, O heartless man, your heart shall soon belong to me.” He rests his hand on the edge of the mark and mumbles, “That can’t be good for the table.” 

You and Jeongin watch, awed at the way the mark glows like an ember until there’s nothing left and the table is smooth. 

“Wow,” Jeongin exclaims, “the mark is gone!” 

“The mark may be gone, but the spell is still here.” Han holds his hand to his chest, it’s smoking like he was burned by whatever he did to remove the mark, your heart pangs in worry. 

“Excuse me, my friends,” Han stands abruptly and grabs his plate, he nods his head at you and pointedly looks at your still full plate, “Eat, eat, it’s okay, you can eat!” He smiles closed-eyed at you and walks over to drop his untouched food into Minho’s wide open mouth, like a baby bird, you think absently.

“Minho, move the castle 60 miles to the west,” he orders and heads towards the stairs, “and while you’re at it, make hot water for my bath.” Han winks and walks off before Minho can complain too much. 

Mentally waving off that weird moment, you catch Jeongin’s side eye as you turn back to your plate, “You’re not working for the Wizard of the Waste are you?” he probes.

Anger fills you so fast you whip around and furious words spill out of you, “I would never work for that pompous wizard! He’s the one who-” but it’s like an invisible hand twists your mouth up before you can spit the words out. 

You try a couple more times to explain that you are not actually an old lady but your mouth won’t cooperate. You give up and slam your fists on the table, sending precarious piles of books and junk to the floor. 

“If I ever get my hands on that wizard, I’m going to wring his long neck! Eat your breakfast,” you direct the last bit to Jeongin and scarf down the rest of your food. 

Thank you so much for reading and thank you for your patience! Real life pulled me away from writing and this was a really fun story to jump into!

Who do you think the Wizard of the Waste is? Or Mr. Turnip Head? Any guesses? 😉

This is a reimagining of Howl’s Moving Castle, in no way am I claiming the plot as my own work, only the reimagined characters belong to me (@staytinyweeniebeanie). Additionally, I do not consent to my work being reposted on other platforms without permission!

Reblogs and Comments are always welcome and highly appreciated!

dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics

[mossygirl333]

if the bakery is open...crème brûlée and coca-cola for logan? 💕

AN: ofc Anon!!! we love our sexy old men here <333

Bakery Order: Crême Brûlée- “shhh, wouldn’t want them to hear would you?” + Coca-cola- virgin/inexperienced character

virgin!f!reader x Logan Howlette

Tw/Cw: porn no plot, slight public sex, inexperienced reader, female masturbation, protected p in v, slight DUBCON, small itty tiny bit of breeding kink (IM SORRY I CANT HELP MYSELF), slightly mocking but mostly praise

Smut under the cut!!

"You want a sip sweet thing? You look shy, loosen up, I don't bite."

Augh. That sentence.

You slipped into the bathroom, huffing slightly. Heat curled up your chest, flustering your cheeks. You felt hot. Hot and fucking bothered by that old man.

It felt perverted almost, that a man nearly twice your age (maybe more, no one knows with Logan) got you to feel this way. But that was his charm. With his stupid sharp eyes and his stupid sharp tongue, and the stupid smell of his cologne that made your head swim and your cunt throb.

Your hands slam up to your face, water now dripping down the heated skin. Panting slightly.

"Get your head together." You grumble to yourself, wiping your face clean on the towel. Thighs clenched together slightly, that heat rolling down your back settling up again. Imaging those rough hands kneading into the fat of your ass-

A groan left your lips, rolling your eyes as you frustratingly sit down. Rubbing your eyes, a small twinge of shame settling into the back of your head. It was really wrong to think of your teacher like that. You both were adults, yes, but would he ever truly want you?

Maybe he would. But you didn't want to entertain those thoughts. Just to get the stupid feeling to go away.

Settling into the bathtub, finally wriggling out of the restrictive material of your pants did you really come to appreciate the talents of that old bastard. Your underwear was practically soaked, the fabric now almost see-through.

You shift, dragging your fingers through puffy folds. Brushing against your clit, hips jerking up. "fuck..."

It was barely a whisper, a small comment under your breath. Two fingers slipped in so easily, sinking down to the knuckle. Your eyes flutter closed, pumping your hand as your palm slid up against the pearly bead of nerves.

Huffs of air and choked out moans left your lips. Cheeks hot, a drip of sweat beaded down your cleavage, hips rolling and jumping whenever you brushed your clit.

You barely even noticed the eyes on you. Peering through the crack in the door, heated and perverted. His pupils blown out as he watched that pretty thing touch herself like that. His tongue ran over his dry lips, palm rubbing against the hard erection through his pants.

You whimper, practically begging for him now. An image burned into his retinas, an image he'd cherish for eons. "Logan."

...Oh...Oh he couldn't leave you like that.

the door flung open and you choked, eyes flying to the entrance. You sputter, trying to get up and get your pants back on. "oh my fucking God I'm so sorry-" You screech before his hand is clasped over your mouth.

"Shush woman. Jesus Christ do you never stop screaming?" He hisses, pushing you up against the counter.

You pause, heart thumping against your ribcage like prey caught in a trap. The door was open, both of your eyes looking at it before looking at each other.

He closes the door, before sighing and rolling those strong shoulders. "I'm not mad. And you shouldn't be embarrassed."

You look slightly confused before noticing the very prominent bulge in his pants. You clearly weren't the only one here with unspoken feelings. And your mouth dried up at the thoughts.

You sit back on the counter, trying to find the words. This stupid hunk, that was way out of your league, that wormed his way into the creases of your brain was into...you? It was both confusing and flattering.

"I want you." It was really the only thing your brain could think of in the moment. It was embarrassing and stupid, but by that smirk on his face - he did exactly what you wanted it to.

"I can...tell. By your excessive moaning of my name." He murmurs, darkly chuckling under his breath, heavy hands digging into the soft plush skin of your thighs. Spreading them to make room for himself. "And I assume you know I mean the same?"

You weakly nod, your own hands coming to rest on his beefy biceps. Hairy and mouthwatering and that salt and pepper beard made you shudder.

"You Aren't used to this?" He muses, tracing up the curve of your waist, the small of your back and then back to your hips. All in one fluid motion that made your pussy wet again. Nodding to his statement, trying to hide how flustered it really made you, he tipped your chin back up. "Ah ah ah...no, you look me in the eyes for this part honey."

"I'm sorry. It's just I'm really-"

"Wet? I bet she's weeping for me down there ain't she?" You paused, watching as his perverted gaze followed the curve of your breasts.

"...she is."

What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing it? And why does it feel so wrong yet so right? You don't have enough time to process or answer the incessant thoughts buzzing because he's cracking your legs open. "Well why don't you prove it?"

You wriggle out of your jeans, the heavy cloth now settling on your calves. Thighs pressed up against the cold granite of the bathroom granite counter top.

He smirks, breathing in the smell of your arousal. Hooking your panties and taking them with your jeans, now tossed aside in the bathroom. "God she is just...crying for me. Such a pretty pussy she is, isn't she?"

You swallow thickly, nodding and shifting. "Yeah I guess-" Laughing weakly, spreading your legs for him. "...do you have a condom?"

"I'm clean and yes." He murmurs, fishing the foil wrapper out of his back pocket. Opening up the front of his jeans, a thick and heavy cock sprung out. The tip red and leaking, beads of pearly precum dripping down the underside of his shaft. He gave a few languid pumps that made your mouth dry and then slid the protection on.

"Feels better raw baby, but I understand the need for it." He nuzzles his nose into your neck, the tip of his cock brushing up against your folds. The contrast of his heated erection against the cold air of the room made you jump. "Can impregnate you after I stick a ring on that finger."

You whimper at the subject, the head slowly pushing against your entrance. Half-way off the counter and half-way on, his palms holding you up by your thighs.

He sinks in balls deep, huffing in your ear. The smell of his cigars stuck in your nose, your nails digging into the shifting muscles of his shoulders. "God you feel s'tight...warm..." Logan's lips drag down your artery, kissing over the hot skin.

Your eyes roll back, holding him close. Slowly he drags himself out, sliding back in. In and out, in and out, in and out-

Your starting to get loud, lips parted as high-pitched noises come from your throat, bubbling up like you were some needy whore. He bites at your throat and you stutter, his hand clamping over your lips.

"Shush it woman...Jesus you fuckin' slut. You want the whole school to hear your losing your virginity to me of all people?" His voice was breathless, his thrusts in a slow rhythm. "God your noises are pretty...but Summers would kill me if he found us like this. Wouldn't he?"

You nod, trying to reign in the pleasure filled sounds desperate to burst forward. The heat rushing down you in waves, coiling up in an uncomfortable tight knot at the base of your stomach. It was overwhelming. "Stop please-"

"What?" He pauses slightly, still twitching inside. "you okay?" He tilts his head, a flash of concern in his eyes. "I mean, I'm pretty average, you're taking me just fine-"

"No...it's too much." You squirm away from the pressure on your clit, twitchy and glistening under the buzzing florescent lights of the bathroom.

He pauses in confusion. "It's supposed to be a lot-" He starts out slowly before freezing. "Jesus Christ, have you never orgasmed before?" He weakly laughs and you feel an embarrassing flush heat up your plump cheeks.

"Maybe" You mumble, looking away. "Listen it's just...it's so much it's almost painful." It was true. You never had actually orgasmed and it was an embarrassing topic. You've tried everything under the sun, it just doesn't work.

"Jesus Christ you shoulda fuckin' told me that." He huffs, grabbing your underwear and stuffing it past your lips. "Don't get too loud."

You can barely pull away before he's fucking himself into you again, sharp figure-eights digging into your clit, the callouses on his thumb making your head spin.

Barely muffled high pitched whines come out, sobbing into his shoulder as tears of pleasure perk up. Eyes wet and misty. You shake, hips jerking as he refuses to stop. The taste of your heady slick heavy on your tongue, pressed up against the half-dried arousal on your panties.

The coil grows and grows, tighter and tighter. Your head swam. Muscles twitched. Clit cried, swollen and puffy now from the abuse. His tip slamming into your cervix. Tears, fat and heavy fell down soft cheeks.

It hurt. And god it hurt. So. Good.

You felt pleasure roll off of you, sobs and screams leaving your mouth, muffled by your underwear in his hand as Logan's voice brought you down. "Shhh, there you go. Feel good huh? To cum, look at you, that afterglow..."

You shudder, your underwear dropping from your mouth, soaked with drool as you twitch and shake. Holding him like he was your only tether to the real world. Shocks of your orgasm still twinged in your soaked pussy.

"Jesus-" You gasp out, rubbing your eyes. "That was a lot." You weakly laugh.

"Feel good?" Logan asks, pulling out, you didn't even notice he came as well.

"Yeah. Yeah it did. Like a roller coaster, just more physical and not kid friendly." You smiled, resting your sweaty forehead against his shoulder.

"Lets get ya cleaned up."

"I'd like that."

[devondespresso]

I Wish I Never Met You

G | ~600 words | Steddie or Steve & Eddie | CW: grief, references to canon deaths, mcd, hurt/no comfort, unhappy ending

for the @strangerthingswritersguild prompt "I Wish I Never Met You" for @sunflowerharrington !!! hope you enjoy 💕

"Can I tell you a secret, Munson?"

Steve mutters next to him, like he doesn't really want anyone to hear it.

He doesn't need to be so quiet; the wind is blowing strong today and the graveyard is empty around them. Or devoid of the living, technically. Eddie guesses the population here might rival that of the rest of the town now. Might become the majority if they can't fix this mess in time.

Still, Steve whispers his question to him, staring down at the grave in front of them, and doesn't wait for an answer.

"I didn't really cry when Barb died."

The wind goes silent, like the world gasps at Steve's admission. And Steve must be able to feel that judgement, because he seals his eyes shut and tips his head up towards the ashy gray sky.

"I didn't know her. I felt guilty and I mourned her with Nance-- It ruined Nancy, but... But it didn't ruin me. Maybe it should have."

Eddie's glad it didn't ruin him. Beyond just caring about the guy, Eddie can't imagine any of this going well without Steve as he is now.

"I don't think I would've even cared without Nance. Never would've met her, never would've stopped being the type of fucking asshole that barely notices when my classmate dies."

Steve squeezes his eyes shut tighter, pulling his face into angry folds like it'll keep the pain out. Or maybe the emotions in. Before Eddie can think to reach out, Steve looks down again and rubs at his face with a free hand.

"I wish I was an asshole." Steve mutters again, face still hardened and twisted up with emotions he won't let slip, even when he's the only one here. "More of an asshole."

A tear fights its way out, running fast down Steve's face, dripping and falling and hitting the ground before Steve can even try to catch it.

"I think..."

Eddie wants nothing more than to catch it.

But no one could've caught it. That runaway tear probably thinks itself a hero, slipping away from the others still trapped by pain, now sinking uselessly into the dirt.

Another drop hits the ground, inches away from the first, and Steve stifles a choked-off sob. Eddie turns back to him to find more tears coming after it, Steve's face twisting harder and harder, both hands flying up to his face like he can push them back into his eyes.

Logic be damned, Eddie stands in front of him, places his faded hands around Steve's face like he could still cradle it, like Steve could feel his touch if Eddie tries hard enough.

Steve looks up, but not at Eddie. Eddie's hands pass through his face as he looks around before turning his gaze down again, through Eddie and straight to his headstone.

"Dustin knows you-- I'd know of you still, I'd still care, but I-- I want to say I'd still care, but if it was just that again, Barb again, I'd--"

Steve's voice cracks and it sounds wrong on him. It stops him, forces him to take a few shaking, wet breaths and gather some thoughts behind those drooping red eyes.

Steve doesn't say it. Just stares at Eddie's grave for a moment too long before his face breaks again. He curls in on himself: one arm crossed over his chest, one hand covering his eyes, reeking of shame.

He doesn't have to say it; Eddie can read between the lines.

Eddie steps back from Steve and sits idly on his grave, taking in the full picture of Steve Harrington---King of Hawkins High, Monster-hunting Badass and pretty good dude---crying alone in front of Eddie Munson's grave.