#joined secondary school together

[hotchner-edu]

Eyes Don't Lie | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The one where you think you’re being slick about your crush on Aaron (spoiler: you’re not.)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!sunshine!reader

Warnings: fluff, Aaron's arms, drinking

You remember it all too clearly, the day you got the highly coveted profiler position in the BAU. Not because you actually managed to get the job, that was secondary, but because the man who interviewed you was possibly the most gorgeous human you'd ever laid eyes on.

And now that very same man was your unit chief. Unbending in his resolve and ever self-assured, you stood absolutely no chance. You still had trouble recalling how you even answered the interview questions back then, only remembering how your mind spun the longer you stared at him.

When you joined the team, the overflowing abundance of joy and sunshine tying them together (thanks to one Penelope Garcia) seemed to fly into overdrive.

The team never let you forget just how much they adored your smiley nature, grateful for your constant comforting presence. Although they all absolutely loved Penelope, she was usually stationed back in her lair when the team had to fly to different places, and the effects of heavy cases weighed on them during those days.

That seemed to change when you were roped into the team, always keeping someone company and trying to alleviate their stress.

Never with Aaron though.

You seemed to malfunction every time he was alone with you, and that often led you to scurry off, your school girl crush festering deeper in your heart.

"Good morning, sunshine." Derek's voice meets your ears as he enters the precinct, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as he sits beside you.

"Good morning!" You chirp with a grin, sorting out the papers in front of you— all ransom notes that had been left by the unsub for his victims' parents. All starting with demands for hundreds of thousands of dollars, and all ending with half-buried bodies.

Derek glances at the papers for a moment before directing his attention to Spencer who was staring at the whiteboard in front of him. "Any luck with the geographical profile, Reid?"

"Working on it..." Spencer mumbles under his breath, the precursor to his flow state. Yeah, he would figure it out in no time.

Your attention is averted to the entrance of the meeting room when Emily strolls in with both her coffee and yours in her hands. "Early start today... again." She grumbles playfully and smiles as she hands you your cup.

"At least we all seem to be energized today." You smile brightly in gratitude, bringing the cup to your lips so you could blow on it.

Emily nods and plops down across from you. "Yeah, and it seems like our guy is in no rush." She huffs and frowns a bit as she addresses the three of you guys. "Lisa's parents haven't gotten a second ransom note yet."

Your eyebrows furrow at the news. Lisa Thomas was the unsub's latest victim, having been snatched almost three days prior.

"He's breaking pattern?" You ask in disbelief, frowning as you think.

"Or he's found what he was looking for." Aaron's smooth voice flows into the room and you instinctively stiffen up, posture suddenly pin-straight. "Good morning." He nods to all of you.

You miss the amused look Derek and Emily share as your eyes flicker to Aaron's figure as he strolls towards the table. He was in his usual suit, bringing his arm up to check his watch for a moment, the action drawing your gaze to his hands.

Your voice dies a little in your throat and Aaron's eyes find yours, softening a bit.

Emily swoops in and jumps off of his suggestion. "You think he's found the perfect opportunity from Lisa?"

Aaron debates this and spares a glance toward Spencer's motionless figure. "Her parents are the most affluent. It could be that he's planning out his next move to optimize monetary gain."

Still, that theory didn't seem right to you. It had to be something else. His ransom notes were vague, making steep demands that were undeniably impossible to meet in his given time window.

Besides, autopsy had told you all that he had killed the previous girls only hours after the ransom notes were estimated to have been delivered.

And then it hits you.

"He was practicing." You suddenly say, blushing sheepishly when you realize you said it louder than you intended.

Aaron looks back to you and gently asks, "Practicing?"

Willing every ounce of professionalism in your body to come together, you nod and glance toward Reid's map. "What if Lisa isn't just another one of his victims? What if she was the goal the entire time? He never intended on letting any of his previous captives live, that's why he never even went to pick up any ransom money that was offered."

Derek's eyes widen and he nods, the gears turning in his head. "Her background doesn't match his previous three victims then, but how?"

Spencer suddenly cuts in, having had an epiphany as he draws four circles around the map, three forming a triangle around the fourth circle. "Status. Lisa's family lives on the top of the estate hill."

"But the other three girls also came from wealthy backgrounds?" Emily asks, leaning forward in her seat.

"The hill is the status symbol... he's been targeting increasingly wealthy girls to test the limits, to see if he'd get caught." You say softly.

Reid nods and looks to you in an almost excited manner from the breakthrough. "We've been looking at this the wrong way. He's not trying to get ransom money, it's much more personal than that and he's trying to throw us off his trail."

"We need to interview the residents living at the bottom of the hill. Prentiss, pay the Thomas' another visit and ask them about anybody in their lives who they've casted aside that may have been personally involved with Lisa" Aaron says firmly, already reaching for his phone. He pauses before looking at you, face softening a bit. "Nice work."

Your eyes widen and you stutter out a surprised response. "I... thank you, sir."

Aaron looks like he wants to say something again, but he decides not to and spins on his heel to make some calls. Derek chuckles and shakes your shoulders. "Good job, sunshine. But you have got to stop making googly eyes at the boss man."

"I'm not making googly eyes!" You protest, ignoring your sweaty palms and racing heart.

Derek lifts his hands up in surrender, his smug grin unwavering. "Whatever you say."

It takes only half a day after your revelation to catch the unsub, a secret boyfriend of Lisa's who lived at the bottom of the hill. He had intended to take her and run away since her parents disapproved of their relationship, but he wasn't able to follow through with that plan because Lisa had found out about his penchant for murder and planned to turn him in.

"How scary." You sigh and frown a bit as the team packs up, ready to leave the precinct and get back on the jet.

"You're telling me. Killing innocent girls to try and hide your girlfriend's abduction is certainly..." Emily trails off with a flabbergasted look, not having a word to describe the situation.

"This is why I am never dating." You grumble, smiling when Emily gives you an eyebrow raise. "I mean it!"

"Sure, sweetheart. Don't think we forgot how you want to be Mrs. Unit Chief." Derek jokes, snickering as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

Emily nods in agreement and pats your arm fondly. "Steam practically erupts from your face whenever he's within a four feet radius of you, honey."

You gasp in denial and turn to Spencer. "Spence, I'm not like that, am I?"

Your friend perks up at the sudden question and blinks a couple of times. "Uhm... you kinda are." He says with a sheepish smile, hating to burst your bubble of delusion.

"Oh my god... I need a drink." You huff and sigh in defeat.

"Now that's something I can agree with." Derek chuckles and slings his arm around your shoulder. "Let's celebrate when we get back."

You throw your head back and sigh dramatically. "You guys totally suck by the way."

You try to avoid thinking of the matter in the coming days, becoming even more skittish around Aaron. Unbeknownst to you, your boss had long caught on to the crush you harbored for him, and was growing more impatient with your constant avoidance.

A week after you get back from the case, you're distracted by a sight in front of you that has you nearly drooling. Aaron is pacing in his office, blinds open, suit jacket off, with his arm muscles rippling as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves.

He's speaking into his phone, his signature frown painting his face.

Your chin is propped up against your hand as you watch him, a hint of wonder in your gaze as your paperwork is long forgotten about in front of you.

You're suddenly jolted out of your stupor when a pair of hands land on your shoulders. "What are we looking at, sunshine?" Derek's voice rings out by your ear as he follows your gaze with a chuckle. "That checks out."

"Here to torment me again, oh great one?" You joke and poke his ribs with your finger.

He shakes his head and moves his hand to rest on the back of your chair. "Maybe later. The team was planning on grabbing some drinks tonight, and you're coming."

"I have no say in this?" You ask and chuckle, smiling brightly at the prospect of having a fun night out with the team.

"Nope. Neither does the boss man." Derek grins mischievously as he glances towards Aaron's office.

Your eyes widen owlishly and you gape. "Wait, Hotch is coming too?"

He pats the back of your chair and smirks. "Yep! See you tonight, sweetheart. JJ's picking the place so make sure to check the groupchat." He says and walks off before you can get another word out.

Blinking slowly, your mind suddenly conjures up a mental image of your closet as you start debating on what to wear.

Meanwhile, across the bullpen, Hotch is speaking lowly into his phone as he suddenly feels very silly. "So?" He gruffly asks, eyes darting to his discarded jacket.

"What? You're telling me you couldn't feel the heart-shaped lasers coming your way?" Emily's voice rings out on the other side of the phone with an amused huff.

He sighs softly and frowns. He had no idea what the hell he was doing and why he even agreed to the the team's little scheme in the first place.

"Okay, I can hear you overthinking from here. Trust me, she was ogling you like no tomorrow. And she knows you're coming tonight, so wear something nice." She advises gently.

His frown deepens and he looks out of his office window and into the bullpen, seeing your frazzled figure deep in thought at your desk. "Yeah, like what?"

"You didn't hear this from me, but she likes your arms. Do what you will with that knowledge." Emily muses out lightly, recalling the time when you had practically gushed to her and JJ that Aaron wasn't in his suit for once when he came by to pick something up at his office.

Both her and JJ figured out pretty quickly that you were raving about it because of his exposed arms as you kept circling back to how muscular they looked.

Emily felt a bit guilty for tipping Hotch off about that, but she could ask for your forgiveness at a later date.

Later that night, you're contemplating faking a flat tire to get out of the get-together, but Aaron being the kind of person he is, would likely offer to come pick you up instead.

Seeing no escape, you decide to just toughen up and join in on the night of fun. You were dressing up a bit more than usual, and you decided to arrive fashionably late to avoid being paired off with your early-bird boss. You don't think you'd survive another embarrassing interaction with him.

It's a bit past nine by the time you arrive at the bar, most of your team already two shots of vodka deep. Waving at the group, you do a double take when you see Aaron sitting beside the only empty spot, sporting a navy polo shirt that hugged his biceps deliciously, two of the top buttons undone.

You pause in step for a second and nearly stumble into someone as your eyes are zeroed in on him. What the fuck was he wearing, and was he trying to kill you?

Regaining your bearings after a couple of seconds, you continue walking and smile softly.

"Hey guys..." You chuckle as Penelope gasps at the sight of you.

"Hot! Hot!" She squeals out and stands up, hugging you and looking at your outfit.

You smile brightly and shake your head. "Says you, beautiful! Also, are you already drunk?" You chuckle, knowing she could never pass up any kind of fruity margarita.

"Not yet! I was waiting for you!" She giggles excitedly and drags you closer to the table your team was occupying.

"Look who made it!" Derek calls out and grins, a half-empty glass of negroni in front of him.

You slowly shuffle toward the only vacant spot that was coincidentally beside Aaron, narrowing your eyes playfully at your beaming friend. "I knew you'd come kicking down my door if I didn't turn up."

Derek simply picks up his glass and cheers to your words, not even bothering to deny it. Shaking your head a bit, you place your bag in your lap and brave a glance at Aaron, plastering on a small smile when you meet his gaze.

"You look beautiful." Aaron says to you in a low voice, his entire attention focused on you.

"Oh, thank you, sir..." You say bashfully, eyes scanning his face and dropping down to the pink cocktail JJ's sliding to you with a subtle wink.

Aaron tilts his head a smidge and smiles at you fondly. "How many times have I told you that you can just call me Aaron? Or Hotch, at the very least."

"Oh, right. Sorry, Aaron." You say a bit shyly, taking a sip from the cocktail and praying no one takes notice of your shaky hand. "Uhm... I'm surprised you came out tonight."

Aaron leans his elbows on the table, keeping his head turned to face you. It was sinful the way his muscles were flexing, and you really couldn't escape the sight of the defined veins running down his forearms.

His large, calloused hands kept calling for your attention and you could only force yourself to look away from them when he responded to you.

"Well, I thought it would nice to celebrate a bit."

You nod at his explanation and gaze at him. "You... you look really nice." Your voice is soft and barely audible over the booming laughter and upbeat music echoing around the bar.

Aaron seems pleased by your words, his eyes twinkling as he chuckles and smiles almost boyishly. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Your entire face blossoms with warmth as you hear the pet name, mouth parting a bit in surprise as you try to muster up a response. Luckily, you're saved when Penelope loudly announces that everyone is doing a round of shots, leaving no room for argument.

The rest of the night is filled with endless laughter and tall glasses of colorful cocktails, leading Penelope and Derek to quickly get tipsy, hitting the dance floor together before you're even through with your first drink. You and Aaron decide to opt out of drinking too much, with the man being completely sober by the time midnight rolls around.

It's not long before you find that your entire team, save for Aaron, are scattered around somewhere in the bar. You glance at the man and find him already gazing at you, expression soft and adoring. It was clear that he was growing a bit weary the longer the night dragged on, and you couldn't understand why he was forcing himself to stay.

"Are you the designated driver?" You ask and smile kindly at him, knowing everyone else on the team would be sloshed by the time they had the sense to call it a night.

Aaron nods and he leans a bit closer to you, shoulders sagging tiredly. "Seems like it." He pauses before sighing almost bashfully. "To be honest, I lied to you earlier about why I came out tonight."

"Huh, why?" You ask and tilt your head, your heart racing a bit as he licks his lips nervously.

"Because... Well, the reason I decided to come tonight was because of you." He states quietly, eyes gazing at you fondly. "I'm tired of waiting."

You stay silent, eyes wide as you try to process his words.

"May I kiss you?" He finally whispers, eyes flickering from yours and down to your lips.

Without hesitating, you surge forward and lock your lips with his, hands resting against his firm chest. Aaron reciprocates immediately, one of his hands moving to your waist while the other rests against the back of your head, gently keeping you close.

Kissing Aaron feels magnetic, every movement flowing into something more intense as neither of you can help but draw closer to one another. His hand squeezes your waist as his nose nudges against yours, his lips relentless in their pursuit of yours.

When you finally pull back a little for air, you grow a bit shy as you see the string of saliva between you both.

"I like you." You whisper, hands rubbing against the material of his polo shirt.

He chuckles breathlessly and pulls you closer to him by your hip. "I like you too, honey." His arm wraps around you and your eyes close instinctively, feeling yourself becoming addicted to his lips already.

Neither of you see your team members cheering from across the bar as they see Aaron dive in for more kisses from you, movements akin to that of a starved man.

When they finally stumble back to the table a mere ten minutes later, no one says anything for a second as they all realize you're both long gone.

Emily groans softly and plops down in one of the chairs. "Did Hotch forget he was our ride home?"

Derek grunts and picks up a pink sticky note on the table, your penmanship a bit sloppy as if you had written on it in a rush.

'Called cabs for you guys! JJ, I called Will. Text us when you guys get home safely x'

[imaginesig]

“I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU + Written parts

You’re Lando Norris’s little sister (18) and a spark flares up with a notable F2 driver (18) , how does everything go down?

Bonus: “I had the best day with you today”

I wanted to state that as I’m writing this I am 17 years old, on top of that I am an American. I do not know how to be 17/18 as a Brit so I did a bit of research but I’m not 100% confident. I gave Y/n an internship bc I assumed she’d be at the end of her secondary schooling. Sorry if that’s wildly off base.

~~~

A laugh erupted from my chest as a balled up sucky note made contact with Kimi’s forehead. I quickly grab my takeout lid to block his response attack. Only when I heard the ball make contact with the plastic did I relax my shield. On the other side, Kimi laid out on my hotel bed in sleep pants and a racing sweatshirt. His messy curls barely moved as he laughed. The soft light of the hotel lamp illuminated the scene like some kind of dream.

In here, it was a dream. No pressure, loud engines, cruel media, or annoying deadlines tainting the scene. It was authentic; our looks to each other were obvious, no sneaky glances.

In one smooth motion I moved from the desk chair to the opposite side of the bed from him. Propped up on my side, I mustered my best reporter voice, “So Mr. Antonelli, you've touched down in beautiful Barcelona a few hours ago and are gearing up for the weekend. The Spanish Grand Prix is known for its special conditions: corners of varying speeds, high chance of tyre wear, and many openings for overtakes. How confident are you in the car for this weekend? Any good strategies in the works to take advantage of rough tyre conditions the other teams will face?

Kimi and I laughed so hard we both turned red, “Well Ms. Norris it looks like someone’s done their homework.”

“It is my job” I shrug, “I also just love turn 9. I quite literally look forward to it every year.”

“Of course you love the hard one,” Kimi pulled his arm out from under his weight and fell into the bed.

“No sir, you have to go. Dont get comfortable,” I said.

“Y/n” kimi whines.

“No,” I laugh, “you need to go back to your own room.” With a huff and a few more comments Kimi is reminded of the reality outside of the hotel room, one where he has to return to his own room and wake up alone. With a hug and kiss, Kimi is on his way and I turn back to start cleaning up. Next to the takeout trash, my work bag also lays unpacked. I fall into a steady rhythm of tidying before bed while my mind wanders off to my secret relationship.

Kimi and I got together right before this season started. We met last season at a couple of different Motorsport events and spent the season getting closer. Then we spent the offseason working through the new depth added to our friendship. And now, we’re navigating unforgiving media who might not take our relationship too well and potentially ruin it.

With a yawn I finish up my task and head to bed. I go to turn off my bedside lamp and notice a goodnight message from Kimi.

~~~

yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris, user1, and 918,289 others

yn_norris: Barcelona, you have kept me busy 🥴

tagged: no one

Lilyzneimer my busy bee!! Best gp watch buddy ever, you always keep me updated with the top info 💖💖

yn_norris love you sm 💖💖 thank you for letting the teammates sister join you

user1 my fav intern 😍😍

user2 she always delivers 👏👏

user8 and grinds until the end everyday

landonorris wow I don’t even get shown, I’m hurt

yn_norris I completely flooded my stories with celebrations and you when you won. This is my moment

landonorris proud of your work always!!

yn_norris🫶🫶🫶

martagarcialopez19 pleasure to be interviewed by you!!

maya_weug lovely panel❤️🏎️

hamdaalqubaisi_official women in motorsports forever!!

user3 I love how Y/n and Lando always have 2 comment threads with varying emotions under every post

user4 KIMI IN THE LIKES???

user5 he stays in her likes

user6 tbh most of the F2/F1 academy drivers are, between her being Landos little sister and covering them the most with her job/internship they’ve gotten familiar

user7 exactly, even her and Ollie Bearman have reported they talk and could consider themselves in a friendship

user8 Abbi Pulling and Hamda Al Qubaisi have been known to hang out with Y/n apart from the track

load more

~~~

It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, Spain. I was so thankful I was able to take a few remote work days so I’d be able to stay another day and explore. It all worked out perfectly because both my brother and his teammate invited me to join their exploration and Kimi was able to get a late flight.

With the sun shining and birds singing I made my way down a less crowded street and was met by my boyfriend snapping photos of the scenery around him. I decide to quicken my pace and give him a hug.

“Hello there,” he says surprised. A chuckle escapes his mouth once he’s turned around to reciprocate the affection.

“Hi,” I smile. I look around as he pulled back and saw the iconic kissing mural surrounded by greenery, “wow.”

“Pretty right,” he says.

“Beautiful,” I gush,”let’s get a photo.” Kimi nods and I set my phone up to record a video to screen record to screen shot from since there was no one around at the early hour.

“How do you wanna pose?”

“Let’s kiss and really be that couple, you know,” I joke.

“Come here then,” the warm air and slight breeze made the moment feel like a fairytale. The world melted away as I enjoyed the sweet kiss. For a moment it felt like we were out to the world. But when the kiss ended, I felt disappointment that no one has seen us. Part of me grew restless with the secret keeping, “I found a really cute place for breakfast I think you’ll like it.”

We walked hand in hand down the quiet streets, passing by locals going through their morning chores. Soon enough we arrived at a small restaurant and were sat outside. Concealed by aged buildings, the place itself was low traffic and gave up peace of mind.

“Smile,” I look back towards Kimi from the surrounding scenery to see him holding up his camera. We took a couple of different shots before returning to conversation.

“I had the weirdest feeling earlier,” I start. Kimi looks a little concerned, “when we took that kissing photo I wanted someone to see. I wanted our relationship to get out.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been and is so nice to have our little bubble, but part of me just wants to be and not worry about the when and where.”

“Exaclty my feelings. I’m glad we’re talking about this, let’s let the idea sit for a little while longer and then we can come up with a plan. I’m scared to rush into an announcement and not be ready for the outcome.” Kimi agrees and we fall into other topics of conversation over breakfast. After we go to an outdoor market and look around. I purchase some trinkets for other interns at the office who cover other sports. As the air slowly got hotter, Kimi’s time with me got shorter. Eventually it was time to take him back to the hotel to take a ride to the airport. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call me when he landed.

I quickly traveled to the lunch spot my brother informed me to meet the group at. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery, taking cool photos, and just enjoying each others company since extra days like this were scarce.

Too soon the sun went down and our activities ended. Back in my hotel room I worked in the soft lamplight and prepared for my flight back to reality tomorrow.

~~~

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, lilyzniemer, user91, and 928,827 others

oscarpiastri: pro tip: never explore with the Norris siblings, they’ll make a scene everywhere

tagged: lilyzneimer, landonorris, yn_norris

yn_norris ummm this is embarrassing you seemed to have misspelled “Y/n thank you so much for the adorable pic of me and Lily! Thankfully your skill is far superior to your brothers so I was able to post one”

landonorris you twat

yn_norris I mean he didn’t post yours so…

oscarpiastri that’s it I’m getting a restraining order on you guys

landonorris we only made a couple…

oscarpiastri yea bc Y/n was only with us a few hours

user1 LMAO THE BIKE PHOTO

user2 they were ready to square up

yn_norris I kicked his ass

user2 OMG SHE REPLIED

user3 everytime I see a Y/n and Lily interaction it always gives little and big sis🥹

user4 omg ikr!! It makes me so happy that even though her bio sisters aren’t able to be with her 24/7 she has someone at gps and such

user5 what I wouldn’t give to explore the world with this group

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by user4, yn_norris, olliebearman, and 819,728 others

Kimi.antonelli: Barcelona, beautiful as always 👏

tagged:no one

olliebearman 💪💪

Prema_team glad to see the weekend allowed for relaxation 😎

user1 happy with the results this weekend!!

user2 ok scenic shot

user3 Kimi is coming for Y/n with the digital camera effect

user4 I wonder why it’s only on the last photo tho?

user5 maybe this is where she was when she wasn’t with the McLaren boys…

user6 ok grandma get back to bed

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Yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, abbiepulling, and 718,828 others

Yn_norris: España, mi amor

Tagged: lilyzniemer

oscarpiatri so glad my gf make the post and I didn’t

yn_norris cry me a river

landonorris who took the first pic you don’t have any friends other than me 🤨🤨

yn_norris choke

carlossainz55 always love your love of Spain 🇪🇸♥️

yn_norris with every bit of my heart!!

Riabish gorgeous!!

abbiepulling travel looks gorgeous on you

yn_norris 💋💋

user1 she ate this up

user2 first pic >>>>>

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yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I get door dashed coffee even when he’s thousands of miles away 🫶🫶

Replies:

landonorris

who what when where why

idk, it’s coffee for those of us who don’t have the energy of a seven year old, this morning, my office, bc I’m loved

wdym “idk”

Y/n are you soft launching?? Your own brother doesn’t get to know before Instagram

I have a plan no fear

🙄

Kimi.antonelli

I’ve discovered you can special order a message or simple drawings through the app too

I can see that

so be prepared, there’s so much more where than came from

as much as I love this and would love to see what you come up with, I can get my own coffee

not happening

lmao ok

Not my hill to die on

I love you

I love you too, have a great day

Oscarpiastri

your bother is pacing

Lmao good

Let him squirm

Yes ma’am 🫡

~~~

The smell of exhaust fills my senses and V6s roar across the track. Lando and I were currently camped out in the Prema garage with our eyes glued to the screen. We let out a few comments and had mini conversations throughout.

When Kimi’s car cross the finish line the enter building jumped up. As the crew and engineers all ran out to the baraxade. I decided do lead Lando over where the podium is interviewed before the cool down room so we don’t interrupt team celebrations. We stand meters away so we don’t bother anyone but I still might be able to sent Kimi a thumbs up and a wink.

“I didn’t know you two got so close,” Lando mused as we still admits the buzzing padock.

“Well you know through other friends I’ve made from tagging alone to events and races with you we were bound to meet, especially with him being Ollies teammate this season,” Lando nods at that. “So how are you feeling about your race, the home ones always a big deal.”

“I’m super excited, but the nerves of potentially messing things up are there,” he confesses, “I want to win really bad.”

“Call it reporter’s gut but I feel-“ suddenly I was cut off my someone yelling my name.

“Y/n!” Kimi is sprinting over to us. So much for not making a scene, I think.

“Kimi! You did it!” I yelled back. Soon, he was a meter away and not stopping. I was grabbed along with him and brought a couple steps away as he slowed down. Before I could even comprehend the previous action, Kimi let out another victory cheer, grabbed my face, and kissed me in the middle of the paddock. The adrenaline and joy from his win charged the kiss from both ends. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All those kisses in hotel room or hidden corners of the world were put to shame, this was the kiss. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t remember that there were eyes on us everywhere, including the eyes of my brother.

“Y/n- I- What!” Lando stuttered with wide eyes. He still stood in our previous spot and seemed to be stuck there. After a moment of staring back, I realized my hands had come up to rest on Kimi’s biceps.

I quickly jumped back before turning to look at Kimi again, “Hey, I’m so proud! We can catch up and all that later. Go do your media stuff, I love you.” I wave him off and walk back to Lando, “before you say anything we need to talk privately.”

Once we find a quiet place I begin explains everything, “And that’s brings us up to now. We had a plan to slow launch and then during that time we hoped to tell family and close friends before anyone else. I swear this weekend was the one-“ he cut me off.

“Y/n don’t worry, I can tell the adrenaline got to him,” he smirks, “I know the feeling well.”

“Ew, ew Lando please stop there,” I cringe. “Are you sure you’re not mad? It wasn’t supposed to come out this way, especially not to you.”

“I’m fine. Granted I only saw a few seconds of that this relationship is but any man who’s gonna come running to you after a race before even heading to a mandatory interview or cool down then he’s a good one. Also you can’t fool me, your eyes lit up and you forgot I was even next to you when he showed up. I’m happy for you,” Lando pulled me into a bear hug.

“I love you Lan.”

“I love you too,” he pulled back and added,” but mum might be so give her a ring before she finds out.”

We both laugh before I FaceTime the family group chats for round 2 of explaining.

~~~

f1updates

Liked by user82, user282, user1, and 173,827 others

f1updates: After his first F2 win, Kimi Antonelli kisses Lando Norris’s little sister in the middle of the paddock! Videos from multiple sources have been reposted on our Twitter account.

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, yn_norris

used1 WHAT

user2 this was not on my 2024 bingo card

used3 after watching the videos it was right out of a romance movie

user4 the way he sprinted to her while ignoring everything else

user5 lando’s face killed me

user6 he was just as shocked as we are

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kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_norris, user43, prema_racing, and 918,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: maiden win anyone??

tagged: prema_racing, mercadesamgf1, yn_norris

yn_norris “where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me” 🤭🤭

Kimi.antonelli ❤️❤️

landonorris 😑

yn_norris fuck off

prema_racing that’s our boy 👏🏆

User1 KIMI IS A RACE WINNER

user2 anyone else absolutely die when he kissed her

user3 yea I think Lando almost did

user4 Y/n’s comment 😭😭

carlossainz55 the last pic 🤨

danielriccardo so it is true

landonorris OF COURSE ITS TRUE A VIDEO HAS BEEN TRENDING ON TWITTER

Carlossainz55 honestly I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying but he could be worse

landonorris mate.

danielriccardo I say shovel talk before his next race see how he celebrates then

yn_norris no no no yall are done scheming in my boyfriends comment section

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~~~

The British Grand Prix had been a rollercoaster for the younger Norris who sat in the coverage of the McLaren garage watching the race. Kimi and I had sent a few messages about the race but since Lando lost his lead during his pit in lap 40 I have been zoned in. I’ve been praying since Lewis passed that something would happen, that by a miracle Lando would regain his lead. Unfortunately as the laps dwindled, Lando lost time between the winner and in lap 49 Max had successfully overtaken him. Sighs and cuss words could be heard all throughout the building. My head fell into my hands as I watched the race though hooded eyelids, weight down with sadness.

When the race was over I slowly took the same path Lando and I had taken yesterday towards the media area. I flashed by badge once again and found a stop on the r of the action. Eventually, Lando made his way to Jensen and completed his interview.

“Hey,” I said empathetically as I pulled him into a hug. “I know you hate this and I know you’re upset. Lando, you hold yourself to the highest standard imaginable, but please know you did great. Third place is still a handful of points and now you’ve gotten more experience so you and the team can make better calls in the future. This wasn’t a race that you could predict, you had to roll with the punches and you did. I’m so proud of you and now I have a new trophy I can steal for my future apartments decor!”

Lando let out a loud chuckle before he hit me on the head, “you’re not getting my trophies you muppet.”

“That’s what you think,” I fired back before he pulls me into another hug, this one more playful than the last. I waved him off to the cool down room and said a quick congratulations to Lewis before heading to get a spot with McLaren for the podium ceremony.

~~~

landonorris

Liked by yn_norris, user3, mclaren, and 819,928 others

landonorris: Silverstone I love you, my sister not so much ❤️ congrats on the win @/lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better, and come get you next time 😜

Tagged: lewishamilton

yn_norris I cried real tears @/lewishamilton

yn_norris you fought hard, it was entertaining race. Love you to the moon and back🫶🫶

landonorris love you to the moons and back twice 🫶

user1 HELLO?? THIS IS TO SWEEET

used2 with no warning either 😭😭

yn_norris also for the record I did nothing

Kimi.antonelli ok now I said I was sorry

user3 why war McLarens strategy all messed up this week

Kimi.antonelli great driving today 💪

landonorris 😑

yn_norris lando try that again.

landonorris 👍

user4 you still did great!!

user5 lmao the jab at Y/n 😭😭

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yn_norris

liked by danielriccardo, olliebearman, user88, and 198,828 others

yn_norris big weekend :)

tagged: landonorris, kimi.antonelli

landonorris big weekend? BIG WEEKEND? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??

yn_norris I mean a lot happened

danielriccardo I think that trophy was kissed better than you

yn_norris 🙄✋

Kimi.antonelli love you ♥️

yn_norris love you too ♥️

user1 her and Lando 🥹🥹

olliebearman thanks for the support on your off weekend 👏👏

yn_norris anytime care bear

user2 “care bear” IM CRYING YN YOU CANT DO MY MAN LIKE THAT

user3 the McLaren flag slays so hard

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by yn_norris, landonorris, used928, and 727,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: I owe an apology to Y/n for ruining our soft launch on a whim, Lando for doing it front of you, and my family for not telling you guys sooner. But that’s all besides the point because I can finally say LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND

tagged: yn_norris

yn_norris omg I love you ♥️

Kimi.antonelli I love you more ♥️

user1 the uppercase at the end he’s so cute 😭😭

user2 you can tell he’s so excited

oscarpiastri so does the Barcelona photo prove that’s who Y/n was with that morning?

landonorris no shot they snuck around right under my nose

Kimi.antonelli no comment

yn_norris not my fault you’re an idiot who doesn’t ask enough questions

landonorris oh just you wait for my questions now

Oscarpiastri oh look now you’ve opened Pandora’s box y/n

carlossainz55 I guess I like you

Kimi.antonelli that’s comforting?

Carlossainz55 be happy it’s not hate

yn_norris he’s a tad bit overprotective

danielriccardo you’ve got balls kid, I respect it

Kimi.antonelli thank you 😁

user3 pls not this summoning all of Landos old teammates

user4 guess he’s not the only one they’ve grown attatched to

landonorris this is cute ig

Kimi.antonelli I’m taking this as a win

yn_norris don’t act all grumpy on main

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yn_norris

liked by Danielriccardo, user817, Kimi.antonelli, and 817,828 others

yn_norris: “this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go”

tagged: Kimi.antonelli

Kimi.antonelli fav taylor song 🫶🫶

yn_norris see aren’t you glad I made you listen to it

user1 Kimi is an Enchanted stan???

landonorris wtf is that last picture

yn_norris 🤷🏼‍♀️

user2 I love them so much 😭😭

User3 she dedicated Enchanted to him?? Girlie is in deep

Carlossainz55 does he make you happy?

danielriccardo this is is a very important question

yn_norris very 🥰

landonorris cancel the plans guys

Kimi.antonelli I’m scared

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yn_norris

Liked by lilyzniemer, user4, carlossainze55, and 981,828 others

yn_norris: he’s family approved ☀️😌

tagged: Kimi.antontelli

Kimi.antonelli Aunt Y/n 😍

landonorris absolutely not

danielriccardo I’m watching you

carlossainz55 stop right there

yn_norris do you guys always materialize in time to ruin the fun 😒

oscarpiastri 👶🚫

yn_norris OSCAR YOU TOO???

Landonorris take that helmet off her now, Uncle Lala’s is the only one allowed

yn_norris possessive much

user1 I can never tell how Lando feels about Kimi

user2 right mixed signals much? He bullies him in insta comments but openly supports him irl

user3 speaking from personal experience, that’s just him being an annoying older brother

lilyzniemer the matching outfits 🥰🥰

abbiepulling they are too cute!!!

yn_norris I love you both 🫶🫶

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[victimsofyaoipoll]

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

[afyrian]

free lunches w/ osamu | headcanons

m.list

- somehow you won free lunch for life at onigiri miya - (free lunch for life meaning like a year) - it was from some msby jackals event - you’ve always preferred to eat at home - but free food is free food - and you live only a few blocks away - plus you’ve never been to onigiri miya - but your first lunch there is phenomenal - like some of the best onigiri you’ve ever had - ‘compliments to the chef, really, this is so good’ [you] - ‘i am the chef, actually’ [osamu] - ‘oh, well you will definitely be seeing me again’ [you] - he is absolutely up for that - the two of you hit it off immediately - joking around while you're there - him always hating when you leave - you always dreading going back to work - even his employees pick it up - cashiers looking into the kitchen, signaling that you're there - in which he'll hand off his work to someone else - immediately joining you for a conversation - you could talk about anything together - usually about his cooking - 'what’s your technique? or your secret ingredient?’ [you] - ‘come back until the end of the promotion and i’ll tell you’ [osamu] - so you do - and you meet his friends - getting to know the msby jackals better - even some of their old friends from secondary school - you grow a little community together - and eventually that last day comes - ‘so what’s the secret ingredient?’ [you] - ‘love’ [osamu] - ‘wow that was incredibly corny’ [you] - but it definitely works on you

gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia

[sugurouge]

— sting: alpha!miya atsumu x omega!f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, taboo topics, non-canon, (pseudo-)incest, stepcest, omegaverse, heavy topics of jealousy, possessiveness, dubcon marking, begging, very submissive reader, cheating, breeding kink, dubcon knotting, obsession, some blood

summary: in a society divided by secondary genders, a young girl is adopted into the prestigious miya family, defying conventions due to her undeniable charm & precious nature. as you grow up, your bond with atsumu shifts, leading to a complex mix of emotions & forbidden desires

wordcount: 4.6k

fyi: atsumu & reader were pretty much attracted to another since her secondary gender was revealed. reader is one year younger than the twins

a/n: for @goxjo's omegaverse collab! make sure to check out the other works if you've enjoyed my lil story. pspsps thank you for letting me join, aki my luv (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.

In a society where the hierarchies of alphas, betas, and omegas define social standing and family legacy, adoption is a rarity. Families fiercely guard their bloodlines, refusing to weaken their position with the introduction of an outsider. Yet, in the case of the Miya family, exceptions were made when they saw you. Abandoning a helpless young girl you was never an for your future mother. You were too precious to be left behind.

From the moment your adoptive parents met you, it felt like a blessing. Your sparkling eyes and adorable smile captivated them in an instant. You, in all your little glory, were a true delight.

Neither you nor your new family can recall a time before you became part of their lives. The notion of your adoption was never mentioned, for it didn't matter. To you, they were simply your family, your pack. The protective embrace of the Miya family, renowned alphas, became your sanctuary. Under their care, the eventual reveal of your secondary gender was irrelevant. What mattered was the bond, the love, and the undeniable connection that tied you all together.

To your older brothers, you were their cherished little sister—sweet, gentle, and always eager to bridge the gap between them. You strived to ease their conflicts and show your love for each one of them, appreciating their unique qualities and talents equally.

Yes, you had no favourite. You loved them equally, and they both loved you in return, as their family. Until one didn't. Until something changed.

Suddenly, one of them seemed bothered by your mere presence. Always leaving the second you entered the same room, averting his gaze if your eyes were to ever meet, and ignoring your entire being at school.

This intoxicating, honey-like vapour with hints of candied oranges radiates out for metres around, drenching the halls of Inarizaki High and leaving Atsumu drunk on you.

He can't think straight, can’t focus on sports or academics. You’re the unofficial reason girls are now banned from volleyball practice. Even worse, you’re practically banned from his life. The shift from affectionate brother to distanced meanie was too sudden for you to not feel hurt. So much for your sweet sixteen…

You practically ruined him overnight, your secondary gender holding effects unexpected to it. Now, instead of grabbing ice cream as a group of three, it's you alone. Unless Osamu can join, but even that seems to annoy the faux-blond. He seems irritated by everything you do or do not do. You’re lucky if he walks off without saying a word, as every time Atsumu loses control over his emotions you end up crying in your mother’s embrace. He locks himself in his room and tries to rid himself of the nasty thoughts and feelings he holds inside.

But then there are moments...

Moments when he turns soft, when you meet at night by accident in the kitchen and he’s too drowsy to control his instincts. Suddenly, gentle eyes can't seem to look at anything but you. Suddenly, the smallest space between you seems unbearable to Atsumu.

And you let him. You’re no better.

You embrace him, gently running your fingers through his hair, and hum softly—your tender care is utterly captivating. How could his hands not grasp the fabric of your shirt, his arms tightening around you to hold you close, as the warmth between you rises and your hearts beat in unison?

Yet, it all fades at the break of dawn.  Only a faint blend of your scents lingers—reminiscent of breakfast, with comforting notes of cinnamon and sugar. 

It’s as if the scene abruptly shifts, like a sudden cut in a film. The atmosphere returns to its former state, and you find yourself once again only conversing with Osamu. 

◈ 

Until you turn 18.

Until your first heat starts. Your nest made of anything you could grab in time, stealing blankets, pillows, an accidental hoodie of Atsumu.Something about it seemed so awfully comforting, you couldn’t refuse.

At night, you weep with your face buried in the fabrics, trying to muffle the sounds of your distress while immersing yourself in the rich aroma of cinnamon and spice. You’re burning from the inside, the need to rip your skin from your bones is almost unbearable. Your feverish state leaves you crying under the moonlight's embrace, a trembling plea of desperate longing echoes throughout the night. You crave, you need, more.

But what about your brothers? While they were both forced to wear earbuds and use scent blockers, one suffered just as much as you. Instincts, after all, cannot be completely suppressed.

Atsumu groans, his head sinking into the pillows of his bed as his eyes flutter shut.. God, he loathes this. Loathes having to run his own hands over his physique to remove his shirt. He would much rather feel your soft fingertips dip beneath the fabric and explore his heated torso. Every passing second more agonising than the one before. His only refuge is the enveloping darkness as he presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape the burning torment he's sinking into. He can hear you through the walls, your whines and moans of pain piercing through his solitude.

He really needs to move out.

◈

Your parents welcome you into adulthood, finally granting you the freedom to seek out your life partner, your mate. Yet, your brother won’t even give you the chance to explore this new chapter.

No, after that night, everything changes. He’s unnervingly close, pressing himself against your back, shamelessly inhaling your scent, burying his face in the nape of your neck. He decks you in compliments and constant touches.

Suddenly, he's everywhere around you, determined to keep anyone else at a distance instead. He insists you wear his jackets to school, wrapping you in his scent and effectively isolating you from the world. His overprotective behaviour is so extreme that even your parents are baffled by Atsumu’s mood swings. His intentions unclear as they all believe in the family bond you all have built over the years. 

And you never voice a word of complaint. You would never even dream of challenging Atsumu’s behaviour. In fact, you seem to revel in it.

Despite Osamu’s growing suspicions and the concern it stirs in your parents, their advice falls on deaf ears. Both of you refuse their suggestion: after all, he’s your brother! You feel secure with him close by and aren’t ready to meet your alpha yet. So, your parents can only observe from the sidelines, hoping and praying it’s smooth sailing until the twins move out.

Until the nest is empty.

◈

What they don’t know is how your older brother projects the echoes of your cries and whimpers during your nights in heat onto his fleeting encounters. At 26, he remains resolutely single, every blind date a disappointment, every hookup unsatisfying and hollow. The desire he feels for you overshadows every attempt at connection, leaving him unfulfilled and unwilling to commit.

Everything seems colourless, flavourless-until family calls.

◈

You’ve moved abroad for your studies, seeking to put distance between you and Atsumu, desperate to suppress the sick thoughts and desires that have plagued your mind. You hoped that a change of scenery, far from Japan, would help you start fresh, to find your alpha and live a life untainted by these unsettling feelings.

Yet, returning home for Osamu’s engagement presents an unexpected challenge. The stage is set: the occasion is beautiful, with halls adorned in flowers and sweets to celebrate the festivities. But amidst the elegant decorations, nothing captivates quite like you. Your presence is intoxicating to Atsumu, who can hardly contain himself. Forgive him for losing his composure. Don’t mind the intense stares from across the room, the desire pooling in his dark eyes that burns into your back. Promises made to his brother were forgotten the second he got a glimpse of you.

Suddenly, the suit feels too tight, the necktie suffocating, and his palms dry. Here you are. You, in a stunning dress that accentuates every curve. You radiate a glowing allure that confirms—you're at your prime, ripe for the taking.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, the heat of his body searing through the fabric of your dress. Without needing to turn, you already know who it is; his name escapes your glossed lips. “Atsumu.”

He pulls you close, his presence enveloping you, his voice soft and sheepish against your ear. “I’ve missed ya,” he confesses, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You’ve missed him too, of course. Yet you tried to replace him with someone morally acceptable—a volleyball player from New York, who bore a slight resemblance to your brother. But could he ever truly fill the void left by Atsumu?

The sweet mixture of scents turns sour before you can even reply to Atsumu, before you can admit how much you’ve missed him as well. His fingertips explore your neck, lingering on your scent gland, fainted dents still feasible for his touch. The pressure borders on painful, as he demands an answer with a dangerous edge: “Who?”

If looks could kill, you’d be a dead woman. Your anxious scent mingles with his anger, creating an intense atmosphere that seems to draw everyone’s attention. The events unfold faster than your family can react. You feel the sting of his nails digging into your skin, jealousy manifesting as sharp pain as blood threatens to stain your dress.

Osamu, ever the protector, shields you from Atsumu’s anger, ensuring to guide you out of the halls in a rush. “I apologise for what he did,” the dark-haired twin mumbles, as he patches you up. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this, I promise.” He meets your eyes with a searching look. “He swore to keep his distance. And I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.”

You finally admit in defeat, “He couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to pressure him either—it’s too soon for him to fly over ten hours just to meet my…” You hesitate, casting a glance around the room as a deep sigh escapes you, “…family.”

Osamu nods, understanding. He returns to kneeling in front you, his expression filled with concern. “I hoped that after all these years, Atsumu would have cooled off.”

You cut him off, feeling an odd need to defend the blond. “He never did anything wrong,” you insist, trying to convince both Osamu and yourself as your gaze falters. “I’m just as much to blame as he is.” With this declaration, you rise and offer Osamu your hand, helping him back to his soon-to-be wife and the rest of the guests.

Nothing could have prepared you for the smell—the overpowering stench that no flowers could mask. Atsumu sits at the table, his eyes unfocused as your father speaks to him, the words a blur as his lips move too fast for you to catch. You only learn the outcome of the conversation when your mother asks you to approach your oldest brother.

Standing beside him now feels different, a new layer of fear creeping into your emotions—something you never anticipated feeling from him. “I’m sorry,” Atsumu finally breaks the heavy silence, straightening up to face you while avoiding your eyes. “I guess my protective instincts went a bit overboard after… all these years.” He clears his throat, cringing slightly at his own words.

With all eyes on you, you can only hum in agreement before you’re guided to sit beside Atsumu. The effort to mask the sour scent of his anger and soothe him only possible with you being closeby. You have to forget about your own feelings for the day; after all, the event is meant for enjoyment and celebration. Every smile you force, every laugh you share feels tainted with an aftertaste of discomfort, yet you try to maintain a semblance of normalcy, for Osamu.

But the close proximity—shoulders brushing, hands fleetingly touching, eyes meeting—heightens the tension between you. Your heart races uncontrollably, and shivers travel down your spine, each sensation a reminder of the internal struggle between your morals and instincts.

Atsumu, everso selfless, extended an offer for you to stay at his apartment. It was a gesture of goodwill, though it now feels like an unexpected complication. No one anticipated his behaviour would spiral this much, especially after the plans had been made. Your parents, trusting their children, hoped that Atsumu would have matured enough and that staying at his place would be more comfortable for you. They assumed you were busy enough with your studies and the hassle of flying back home to Japan that they simply decided for you weeks ago.

But as the door to Atsumu’s apartment clicks shut, the reality of the situation settles in. The safety of this space, the sanctuary you hoped for, now feels like a fighting ring where the unresolved tension might only grow.

Atsumu carefully guides you to your room, setting down your luggage, while repeating the same sentence over and over in his head: “Let her in and leave, lock your door, go to sleep.” Yet, as he turns to face you, his presence looms over you like a storm, his hands grazing your neck with a possessive, almost reverent touch, as his eyes lock onto yours.

“Who?” he asks again, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

The blockers you’ve relied on falter under the overwhelming force of his scent, a potent mix of spice and raw desire that fills the room and stirs something deep and primal within you. You try to form a coherent response, try to remember the name of your partner, but your mind is consumed by the intoxicating presence of Atsumu. Each breath you take is thick with his scent, and you find yourself struggling to maintain a shred of rational thought.

Your attempt to explain dissolves into a stuttering mess, and all you can manage is a pathetic, “Not you.” The words escape your lips as a weak, desperate whimper, and Atsumu’s reaction is immediate and intense. A guttural groan of frustration erupts from him as he seizes your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest. His powerful arms encircle you, creating a cocoon of warmth that feels both incredibly comforting and alarmingly suffocating.

You can’t deny the wave of relief that washes over you as his scent engulfs you, blending with your own and heightening the undeniable ache between your legs. The slickness pooling in your panties is a blatant testament to your arousal, and Atsumu’s keen senses pick up on it immediately. His fingers dig into your body with a possessive urgency that makes your head spin.

A mental war rages within you: the clear, rational part of your mind screams that this is wrong, that your relationship with Atsumu is taboo and fraught with complications. But it’s overpowered by a darker, primal greed that drives you to clutch at him with a fervent need. You can’t ignore the way your body responds to his touch, the way every fibre of your being craves him despite the guilt and confusion clouding your thoughts.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips brush against his neck. A desperate plea slips from your lips, echoing a longing you can no longer suppress. “Alpha…”

Atsumu’s groan vibrates through your body as his lips trail down your jawline, a possessive hunger that makes your knees weak. His tongue flicks over your scent gland, marking his claim with a rasping, “Mine, always been mine.” And it all gets too much for little you. Tears stream down your cheeks as you plead, “Tsumu… please…” Each cry is a mix of desperation and guilt, torn between what you know is wrong and the overpowering need within you.

“You’re telling me you belong to someone else? Yet you beg for me,” he speak lowly into your ear. As his sounds and murmurs fill your ear, the boundaries of right and wrong blur, leaving you surrendering to Atsumu’s fierce desire. His hands grip your waist with a primal hunger, the scent of desire thick in the air as he towers over you. 

You shake your head, incoherent cries escaping your lips. “Just you… Ever always… Tsumu… Yours…” Atsumu’s breath hitches as he nips at your neck, his canines grazing your skin with a tantalising edge that sends shivers down your spine. The primal need within you breaks free, overwhelming your morals.

His erection presses against your tummy, the scandalous sensation causing a moan to escape you. You arch your body, craving the heat and pressure only he can provide. Atsumu’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he revels in your response.

“Good omega,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. His hands explore your body, tracing your curves before sliding under your dress to caress your bare skin. Every touch is electric, fueling the fire between you.

When his fingers brush against your damp panties, Atsumu’s leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, every part of you.” You moan in reply as his touch makes your body tremble, his weight pressing against you with a throbbing intensity.

“Please…” you beg, grinding against him, seeking more friction. “Tsumu… I need…” The energy almost driving you to come undone already, each touch overwhelming your self-control.

Atsumu’s movements are motivated by an insatiable need, his rough hands unrelenting as he pushes you onto the bed. “I need you,” he utters, his voice thick with desire. Your heart pounds, anticipation and desperation spiralling out of control as he undresses, his clothes hitting the floor in a blur. The raw need coursing through you is almost unbearable, each second that passes intensifying your craving. His every movement is a tease, a promise of the release you’re aching for, and your body trembles with a desperate hunger that feels as though you need him to survive.

He tears away your dress with frantic urgency, his lips scattering kisses across your exposed skin. “So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His touch ignites a fresh wave of need as his lips trail down your collarbone, his fingers finding the hem of your panties and stripping them away with fervent determination. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice a low rasp.

When he finally tastes you, his tongue exploring your core with hungry abandon, each lick fuels the fire within. “More,” you plead, “Please, Tsumu, more!”

He hums in approval, swearing to himself to give you everything you crave. As he positions himself between your thighs, his body presses against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Atsumu’s breath comes in ragged bursts as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with an almost feverish desire. “Maybe I should just fuck you senseless,” he muses, his voice thick with hunger. You whine in need, your body trembling as you practically drool over the sight of him. His slightly too-big cock rubs teasingly against your folds, each friction sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

“Gonna fill that sweet little cunt with my cum…” he groans, his words a sultry promise as he coats himself with your juices. Without any further preparation, he pushes into you. The stretch is overwhelming—too much, too good, too painful, yet just right. It’s as if he belongs inside you.

Your body arches instinctively to meet him, a desperate cry escaping your lips as you revel in the sensation. The connection between you both is undeniable, and with each inch that he sinks deeper, you’re consumed by the desperate need that has built up between you over the years.

Atsumu moans in response to your cries, his voice a low growl. “Breed you all day long, fuck…” he continues, his words a promise of unrelenting passion. He pauses for a moment, his hand gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place. The tip of his cock presses deeply into your fluttering walls, each thrust reaching parts of you that make your body shiver.

“Not already coming from just this, are you, baby?” Atsumu growls, his breath hot against your skin. His voice is laced with a mix of teasing and hunger, the edge of possessiveness clear in his tone. When you nod, your soft mewls send shivers through him.

Your arms tighten around his neck, pressing your face against his warm, soft skin as you beg, “Please, plea—ah, take care of me.” Your desperation is punctuated by those pathetic little whimpers, a level of need that drives your Alpha absolutely insane.

Atsumu pulls out of you momentarily, his gaze locked on yours. He groans, “‘Course I will,” before his hips snap forward again, plunging into you with a relentless force. Each thrust is driven by years of pent-up frustration and need, every motion filled with unfiltered desire.

You writhe beneath him, consumed by an overwhelming urge for his bite, his cock, his knot. You crave to be filled to the brim, your body yearning to be stretched and stuffed until you're perfectly round and swollen. “Tsumu” Your voice is desperate, barely recognizable as your own, laced with need. “I'm breeding your sweet little cunt and you’re going to take every. single. drop.” With the last words he already thrusts harshly into you. Big hands claw into your waist, forcing your body to arch helplessly as he dominates you. His thrusts are deep and relentless, each powerful movement making the fat of your ass jiggle. “Such a good bunny…” Atsumu groans, his voice dripping with possessive satisfaction.

“Now, come for me,” Atsumu commands, his gaze fixed on your quivering form. “Come all over me.” Desperation claws at you as you seek your release, your weak hands scratching at Atsumu’s back, leaving red streaks that burn on his skin. Legs spread wide for your alpha, your breasts bounce with every forceful thrust of Atsumu’s hips, connecting with yours in a delightful rhythm. Pleasure clouds your mind, reducing you to a chant of his name, each utterance a desperate plea.

Atsumu's mind roars with need as he looks down at you. He wants to mark you, claim you completely, and breed you. Now that he has you beneath him, he is determined to savour every moment, to ensure you are utterly his. He wants to see you drunk on his cock, to take care of you, his darling omega, until all but him is forgotten.

Atsumu feels you clenching around him, your tightness pushing him to the brink. “Just like that, good girl,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The desire in his eyes is fierce as he thrusts deeper, the remnants of his control fraying with every movement.

With each powerful thrust, Atsumu's need to possess you grows. He envisions you marked, claimed, and filled by him, an unbreakable bond forged in this moment of passion. The rhythm of your bodies is a dance of primal desire, your cries of ecstasy blending with his guttural groans. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and need.

As you feel the peak of your release approaching, your body tightens around him, every nerve ending aflame with sensation. Atsumu's words, his touch, his presence, all coalesce into a symphony of desire that drives you over the edge. You tremble beneath him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.

You ache for him to release inside you, to fill you to the brim with the warmth you craved. The slap of his thighs against yours, the wet, frantic noises, and the erratic breaths all that fills the space between you. His strong scent envelops you, mingling with your own, as his fingers find your clit, rubbing with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, stars exploding behind your closed eyes, your mind unable to grasp anything but the ecstasy he is giving you.

Atsumu’s chest presses heavily against you, a constant reminder of his dominance. “Don’t ever forget—” he rasps, his grip tightening on your hips. “That pretty cunt… these perfect tits… every damn inch of you belongs to me.” His words were a possessive threat, a vow of ownership.

He has you, his delicate omega, completely at his mercy. He's never going to give you away again. He feels high thanks to the way you unravel beneath him, turning you into a trembling, sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the sheer force of his desire.

In that moment, you both reach the pinnacle of your desires, your high-pitched moans intertwining with Atsumu's deep, guttural ones. And he fills you so deliciously. Atsumu’s knot swells, pressing tightly inside you as he fills you with his cum. Each pulse of his release sends waves of ecstasy through you, making you feel as if you’re on the brink of losing yourself. His teeth bite down on your neck, and the stinging sensation sends lightning to course through your weakened frame, chiselling your bond in stone. It feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you, your bodies entangled in a state of perfect, overwhelming bliss. “Mine, all mine...” the hushed promised whispered into your nape.

As the sensations finally begin to recede, you drift into unconsciousness, the warmth of sleep enveloping you and providing a hazy escape from mistakes made in the dark.

[ceilidho]

childhood frenemy soap who torments you all throughout primary and secondary school.. when he joins the military, you get a good few years of peace and almost forget he exists till one day you bump into him. hes grown a lot.. physically and emotionally. he recognizes you immediately, apologizing for how he acted whej he was younger. he seems genuine enough so you give him another chance.. but all the sweetness is just cover. he was just waiting for you to get comfortable with him before going right back to his old ways. but its not just school level bullying now, its emotional manipulation, its gaslighting, its isolation, and its love bombing.. sorry ive just got brain worms abt shit stain soap

No, you’re literally Cassandra and everyone telling you that you’re wrong just doesn’t understand!!!!! You get it!!! He grew up pulling your hair and slapping the books out of your hands in the halls at school and commenting mean things on your social media when you were in high school together and then years later he’s soooooo much hotter and bigger from growth spurt + training in the military, and he grovels until make you forgive him :((( but that’s just until you let guard down :((

everything he did in high school was just a cover for wanting to fuck you btw he was just wayyyy too immature to express that (this does not excuse his behaviour at all, Johnny is just a grade A asshole and he’s still into you like a decade later). Too bad for you the psycho who had a crush on you in HS and bullied you grew up hot and strong :\\

[robiinurheart33]

Soap likes it when they’re alone.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s fun when 141 are all together, the four of them kicking ass on a mission. But when it’s just two of them on a mission, it just feels.. different. Like he has Ghost all to himself. They work wonderfully together as a duo, which is probably why Price never separates them. Also probably because Gaz is his favourite, that prick. (He misses them.)

They’re currently on a stakeout, and Soap was supposed to be asleep 2 hours ago.

He’s sitting across from Ghost, dressed in his sleepwear which was a sweater and old sleeping shorts he used to wear back in secondary school. Ghost was wearing a large hoodie, some sweatpants and the mandatory balaclava. They were both sitting in front of two windows next to each other, the wooden blinds pushed open and moonlight illuminating them both. The cooling air seeps into the room, and soap breathes in deeply. He glances down towards his journal, a finger stuck between the pages, the other hand twirling the pen around. It’s quiet.

His journal is far from neat, pages sticking out waywardly and the leather ripping off from one side of the cover. Soap resists the urge to pick at it. It’s filled with notes from missions, sketches of his loved ones. Mostly sceneries of places he’s stationed at.

He looks up at Ghost staring out of the window. Soap turns his head back out the window, wondering what Ghost was specifically looking at, what he was thinking at the moment, whether he would scold soap if he said he wanted to slip out to buy some supper because he’s hungry. Soap flips back open his journal, and can feel ghost attuned to his actions, even if he wasn’t currently looking at him. Soap likes him for that. He pays attention. Soap wants to return the favour. He wants to know his ins and outs, wants to pay attention. He’s always been an attention-seeking child, which meant that most adults and classmates would ignore him. Endless nights of young dumb teenage John Mactavish sobbing into his pillow about insecurities, his future and the people around him. The things he used to do for attention, each one more drastic than the last. He can’t count the amount of times his Ma had to bail him out, the amount of stress he caused her, his dear Ma.

He likes the natural attention the army brings him, big brute having the green light to legally kill people for a living. It was liberating for a while, but eventually that too died out. At the not-so ripe age of 30-whatever, Soap learns to savour the portions of attention and praise he’s delivered, especially when he joined 141. Maybe in another universe he would be just a little easier to love, little easier to endure. It’s not something he really dwells on nowadays (lie), but he would have preferred somebody be actually interested, not just for the sake of taming him.

Soap looks back on the half-filled page of his journal, clicking open his ballpoint pen, and starts to sketch Ghost. He’s a pretty good subject, not really needing to focus a lot on anatomy since most of his face is covered anyways. He’s familiar with the strokes. He eventually gets lost in it, thoughts fading away and autopilot coming to take over the wheel, the skktch of pen on paper is repetitive and soothing to his ears. It’s the only sound between them now, the crickets and wind opting to stay out of their safe little bubble.

So when Soap looks back up again and sees Ghost looking back, he physically bristles. They lock into a strange sort of stare-off, Ghost’s eyes upturned slightly in a way Johnny knows that he found it amusing. They look at each other for about a solid ten seconds, enough time for him to memorise his blond eyelashes and his eye shape, clocking in internally on how to draw him even better, tempted to just look down and sketch them as fast as possible, so he wouldn’t forget. Ever.

“…Wha’?” Johnny’s fine with breaking first.

“You’re looking at me.”

“Astute observation, LT. Is it still night time?”

“Wha ‘ave you got for us?”

Soap covers his journal in a sort of bashful kind of way, feeling like a schoolgirl covering her diary.

“Didn’t know you got yourself a little diary.”

Soap tsks. “It’s a journal.”

“Right.” An indignant huff.

“Am’ no lying!” Soap feels heat rush to his cheeks, strangely defensive of his pride in front of his lieutenant.

“Never said you were. Drawin’ me now?” His manc accent was suddenly getting very annoying. Ghost’s eyes skirt down to his hands covering the pages, and suddenly Johnny is very aware of the skin wrapped around the muscles of his hands, down to the bone. He feels the dirt under his fingernails, the ink smudged against his fingertips and palm. He wants to turn his hands in and out, inspecting them himself to see if they’re worthy of being looked at by Ghost. Acutely aware of the sheer pressure, the weight of ghost’s attention on him, his skin gets all prickly and he wants to hide.

Is he doing that on purpose?

“Yer a good subject, never movin like a statue. It’s good for practicing my still life.” Soap’s ring finger twitches, and he knows he’s been given away.

Ghost’s eyes glint in the moonlight. His eyes are almond shaped, bigger than most. His pupils are dilated, dirt brown, like the whisky he likes to choke down. His eyelashes are long, so blonde they’re almost white. they shine so brightly soap wants to reach over and close them, just to calm his poor heart a bit. Soap wants to jab his pen into his eye. Soap knows how many strokes it takes to draw Simon’s eyes.

“…. At least get my good side, Sargent.”

“Full o’ shite, you.” he chuckles, the spell breaking as soap rests his knee up on the table and placing his journal against it. It would be a little harder to sketch ghost now, but it’ll be a cold day in hell if Ghost ever sees what he does with his journal. (Would probably be more inclined to call it a diary, old fuck.) Although, he can’t help but admit that it’s a beautiful night in this particular day. It doesn’t count that Ghost and Soap’s legs are in between each other’s under the table, just short of touching each other. It doesn’t count that Johnny pointedly ignores the way that Ghost is still looking at him from the corner of his eye. It doesn’t count that Simon allows Johnny to draw him out when he would break the neck of anyone even trying to look into his eyes too deeply.

It doesn’t count that here, in their little fake apartment with one bed, sniper gun concealed under the window, two toothbrushes side by side in a cup in the bathroom, that they allow themselves to be Simon and Johnny.

They fall back into comfortable silence, Johnny 2 hours and 30 minutes over his allotted time to sleep.

Ghost’s pov

[rainydayathogwarts]

Ron weasley - Opposite teams

Summary: You play a match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser. wc: 2k

Seeing him on the pitch shouldn't have had such an effect on you, especially considering you were playing for the opposite team. The gear looked good on him, and confidence was beaming off his skin, but you were one of the best chasers at Hogwarts, priding yourself on how rarely you missed a shot. "Pull yourself together Y/N!" Flint yelled at your frozen form, still in shock of what had happened. It was all because Ron had flashed you that stupidly gorgeous smile when you were about to score that you hesitated - hesitated enough for him to read your body language and predict your next move, easily catching the quaffle when you threw it. Even your boyfriend had been surprised, well aware of how good you played from years of watching you on the field.

"Wow! It seems as though L/N is too charmed by her boyfriend to get a good shot, this is a new one folks!" Begins Lee, rousing up those in the bleachers. "And it looks like Slytherin Captain Flint is calling for a time out! Good choice I'd say!" It was already embarrassing enough that the entire school knew the time out was being called because you were too hot and bothered by your boyfriend, but your face flushed a dark red the second the Slytherin team turned to look at you in disappointment. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't know what got into me, he's just so- I can't be the primary shooter I'm sorry!" The entire team looked back at you as you rambled and you felt your face get impossibly warmer realising you were gushing about your boyfriend to six teenage boys. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

"Y/N's right," Starts Flint again, "She shouldn't be the primary shooter for this game..." His voice trails off and your gaze drifting to where to Gryffindor team stands. You can see them laughing for a moment, and Harry pats Ron on the back - the reason you missed literally couldn't have been more obvious and they were having a field day about it. "Got it Y/N?" Your head snaps back to Flint, looking at you with raised eyebrows. Your face goes blank, your mouth opening as though to say 'what' but nothing comes out. "You'll switch places with Nott as secondary." Malfoy says quietly to you, and you perk up "Yes, got it!" Flint doesn't look convinced, but calls time out to be over anyway, and everyone gets back on their brooms.

"Stay focused or I'll knock your boyfriend off his broom!" The remark is clearly aimed at you, but is loud enough for both teams to hear and you glance at Ron, whose face has blanched at the comment. You turn away from him, trying not to smile, and the whistle blows. Nott scores time after time after time, and you can see your boyfriend's confidence decreasing while his anger increases. Nott passes you, high-fiving you on the way back to his post. "Good strategy change by the Slytherin team, it seems that they're back - OHH AND MALFOY CATCHES THE SNITCH, GAME OVER EVERYONE!" You're relieved to be off your broom when the game end and you sigh deeply, rolling your head in a circle to try and stretch a kink in your neck out.

You finally join your team, earning pats on the back by them, and teasing comments "Well he's not gonna be happy about that one." and "Good luck getting laid tonight." The comments follow you all the way back to your dorm since Pansy walks with you back to the common room. "I don't even know how that happened though! You never miss! Like you can't be so attracted to someone that, well that happens. He's going to be in such a prissy mood, good luck with that."

The party in the common room is in full blow when you finish showering and getting dressed. You're clad in a tight black mini-skirt with a red crop top, something your boyfriend will hopefully appreciate. "I see what you're doing." You're interrupted by Draco, who eyes your outfit once before handing you a drink. "I think you underestimate just how capable I am of getting my boyfriend in bed, Malfoy." He grins, shaking his head "Well if you have the effect on him that he had on you, I doubt it'll take much." You scoff in amusement, the jokes will never end. "Hey if Marcus asks where I am, don't tell him I'm sleeping with the enemy." But Flint is already beside you, muttering "Cheers" under his breath, so you scurry away quietly, starting your trek to the Gryffindor common room.

The Gryffindors' party is completely different. The music in the background is quiet, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team sits together, each player with a drink in hand while they talk. Others seem to be having more fun than them. When Ron spots you walking towards him, he rolls his eyes, clearly upset. His teammates, on the other hand, greet you kindly, some even joking about the slight incident on the field. You stand in front of Ron, putting a knee on the couch between his legs to support yourself when you put your hands on his shoulder, leaning into his body.

Despite Ron's free hand coming to the back of your thigh, he still mutters "I'm not in the mood." though he leans into your touch when one of your hands comes up to play with his hair. You tilt your head down so your lips barely graze his ear "You're so hot when you're angry." Ron stiffens, looking up at you, but your head is already dipping lower so you can press kisses on his neck. He shivers at the cool touch of your slightly wet hair on his collarbone, and his eyes flutter close for a moment. When he opens them back up, Harry is grinning at him and wiggling his eyebrows. Someone wolf whistles, but he doesn't know if it's directed to you. He feels your teeth graze the spot you've been sucking on right below his ear and he sighs, trying to disguise his pleasure as annoyance, pushing your hip away from him.

Yes, he wants you, but he has to at least pretend that he doesn't for a while longer because he's still angry, and wants you to feel as though you need to try a little to win him over. You've played his game before, and you know what follows. When Ron nudges at your hips one more time, you separate from him, tilting his chin up so he can look at you. He's putty in your hands, but you like to give him the illusion of being in control, so when you kiss him, it's a soft, almost desperate kiss. "Ronnie," you plead "Please." And that soft whisper is enough to make him begin to stand up. You back away, pushing your bottom lip forward and making doe eyes at your boyfriend to stop yourself from grinning in accomplishment.

His shoulder brushes past you and he begins walking up to his dorm, but when you catch up with him, snaking your hand in his, he only holds your hand tighter, so you know you've won. Ron's door slams shut behind you, and immediately, hands are on you, pushing you against the door and groping your ass while he kisses you aggressively. The kiss is filled with angry passion, and Ron's tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. Both your arms are thrown over Ron's shoulder in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer to you so your tits are pushed up into his chest. The hands on your ass move to your front, sliding up your crop top and cupping your tits, while Ron pulls away from the kiss to attack your neck.

Moans are immediately escaping your mouth in soft breaths, your back arching into Ron's hands, pulling and massaging at your breasts, teasing your nipples. His teeth bite at your neck, and one leg comes to shove itself right between your thighs and you jerk up, an electric shock being sent right through you. At your loud gasp, Ron looks down to where his leg connected with your cunt, and his hand immediately pushes your skirt up to find that you're not wearing panties. "What a little slut. No underwear under a mini-skirt? You're practically begging." He grunts, and you whine, grinding your pussy against his thigh. "Just for you, Ronnie."

The comment seems to make him happy, at least happier than he was before since he starts working on taking your top off. "Get this skirt off now." He mutters, his attention back on your tits the second they're exposed. Your bra drops to the floor at the same time your skirt does. Ron pulls away from where he was leaving hickeys on your tits, and takes a moment to oggle at your naked body. You falter under his stare, a hand coming up to grab the material of his t-shirt. "Ron?" At the sound of his name, he looks back up, taking an impossible step closer to you and pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. "You're so fucking amazing." He mutters between kisses, all of his previous anger seemingly gone "Don't deserve this. Don't deserve you." Before you can react to his words, his hands are wrapping around your waist and carrying you to his bed, where he immediately shuts the curtains of his four-poster.

He wastes no time pressing his clothed cock against your naked, which has you moaning his name, bucking your hips up for more friction. "Take it off, take it off." You beg. He complies, chuckling at the sight of your hips bucking up, but takes his time stroking his cock once it's finally freed. His demeanour completely flips the second he pushes into you; his hips snapping at a faster pace than you can keep track of, his hands grabbing both your legs to pull over his shoulders. The angle is perfect and with the way his cock is hitting the right spot with every stroke, you're sure you won't last ten minutes.

You're tightly gripping the bed sheets and you're almost positive that your eyes are going to get stuck at the back of your head because of how hard they're rolling back. "Mmph, bloody hell you feel so nice." The compliment only spurred the pleasure inside you and you moaned louder, bucking your hips up for something more - anything more. Ron's hand comes down to your clit in a harsh slap, and quickly starts putting pressure on it, watching as you squirmed underneath him at the extra friction. His pace sped up and your legs started to shake on his shoulders, a sign that you were clearly close. Ron's hand begins rubbing quick circles on your clit and hips start erratically jerking into you as he releases his load into you, triggering your very own orgasm.

Ron rides out both your orgasms, stilling his movements when you put a hand on his chest. He pants, his chest heaving with every breath he takes as he takes your legs off his shoulders. "Christ, that was too much exercise for one day." He mutters, looking down at you when you open your arms wide for him. He falls into your awaiting arms and mumbles "Can't sleep. Need to clean you up." You moan, shaking your head at him. "Just five minutes."

[3archangelsaints]

you said you were bored so i hope this idea gets rid of that

there are not enough childhood best friend!simon fic’s out there and i’ve been desperate lately. i don’t have much of an idea so write whatever comes to mind if you choose this req.

:)

Childhood bestfriends who met just before you went to secondary school, you went to an all girls school and he went to an all boys and yet you were always together, everyday after school, you'd be out late, avoiding your horrible home lives. He'd stay out late with you, when you'd had an argument that left you shaking and crying from anxiety and adrenaline. You never skipped school, your mum was strict about that and you'd preferred to not cause problems, Simon always said that to you, "Don't cause problems for yourself, yeah?" He holds you to him, kissing your temple. "You too, Si." You hug him, giggling as he lifts you up.

---

"Sit down." He huffs, pulling you onto the grass as the two of you study outside for GSCE mocks. Books and folders sprawled on the grass, and you stand up and start explaining the Weimar government to him for your GSCE history. He listens intently, he took the same GSCE's as you, except art, he wasn't good at that, he told you. He would stay up with you when you'd finish last minute art projects and when it came to portraits, you'd photograph Simon. He only allowed you to do it his eyes, the rest of his face covered by his hand. You loved studying, mainly because you were allowed to visit Simon's house, his dad begrudgingly allowing it. He didn't hit Simon when you were there. Simon didn't care though, his hands were always scabbed with broken skin from fighting with his dad, as he was about the same height as him, despite only being 16. You'd often fall asleep against Simon, his natural musk lulling you to sleep. You waited to open your results together. You ran to him when you saw him, jumping onto him, squealing with joy. He lifted you in air with ease. "Simon!" You squeal again. He puts you down, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Have you opened your results?" You shake your head, he can tell you're nervous, he takes it from you. "May I?" You nod. He opens it. Eyes scanning it. "So?" "So you're fuckin amazing and are so smart." He shows your results. You jump up with glee. He throws you in the air, before pretending to drop you just to hear you scream. "So fuckin' proud of you." "What'd you get?" You take it from him, he passed his core, everything he passed with average grades. Neither here nor there. "What're you gonna do?" "Butcher's apprentice." He says gruffly. You smile, nodding and hugging him. "You mean my butcher's apprentice." You tease. He nods, kissing your temple again. ---

He comes with you to see what 6th form you're going to, he drops you off the first day and does his best to be there for you whenever. He holds your hand and pressing kisses to your face as your freak out, chucking clothes from your wardrobe. "Simon!" You all but cry, trembling. "I don't know what to wear." You huff, he knows how you get social anxiety and he huffs before grabbing a black shirt you stole from him, and a pair of ripped loose jeans. "Here." He hands it to you, he grabs your brush whilst you get changed and brushes your hair gently, expertly starting from the ends. He grabs a scrunchie and ties your hair into a loose bun. ---

When you get your A-level results and find out that you got into your uni, you're ecstatic except you have to move cities and its so far from Simon. He cups your cheek and kisses you, "I'm joining the military." Your heart breaks, you didn't expect him to move with you, but not join the military. "You could die." Your voice trembles. ---

The goodbye is hard, you're babbling and crying as you see him leave for bootcamp, but when he visits you after, clearly bulkier, your heart aches for him. Once again you're in his embrace. His heartbeat against your ear. But just like that, he's gone again. And you move on, focus on yourself, you get your degree, then go for a master's in the states, before returning for your PhD in the UK. When you're leaving after a long day at university, walking to your car, you freak out when you see a bulky massive figure leaning against the hood. He calls out your name, in a deep voice. "Simon?" You ask, dropping to your knees. "I'm here Lovie." You sob. He gingerly picks you up, and just like that your Simon is in your arms again. Breathing. Alive. Living. "Don't leave me again." He nods. Kissing your cheek.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Top Career Tips To Set Yourself Up For Success

Figure out where your skills and passions align. Then determine the lifestyle/work culture you thrive in and what sacrifices you're willing to make in your chosen career path (for some, it's always traveling/talking to people 24/7, working late hours, unpredictable/unconventional hours, potentially lower pay/less predictable income, etc.). It truly depends on your top values, your personality, and your goals/priorities in life.

First focus on getting incredibly talented at your craft. Find a mentor(s) who will push you with their feedback/suggestions. Take classes/skills courses/read books & articles to gain more applicable knowledge/hard skills. Join clubs, apply to internships, volunteer, and request informational interviews in your desired field.

Make your skills marketable. Create a professional resume and/or neat portfolio/collection of work samples. Discover and articulate your USP (that should essentially serve as the backbone of your elevator pitch). Frame your skills through a customer/business-centric lens. How does your experience/skillset solve their problems and help a company/client achieve their goals?

Build a network for yourself. Don't be shy to reach out to companies/individuals who inspire you. Speak with your secondary school teachers and professors for connections. Create peer-to-peer networks, too, so you can grow together. Be a fearless networker and connector. Help others, do favors, and make the person glad they met/hired you. Make it your objective to be memorable through your work ethic/providing high-quality work products and showing up with a motivated & overall positive attitude allows people to like and trust you with their time, clients, money, etc.

Master the art of a killer email/cold pitch. Especially in today's world, learning how to sell yourself through intriguing emails/LinkedIn messages is the key to unlocking potential success. One client or opportunity can create momentum that will be useful years down the line, too.

When in doubt, follow up – on an email, pitch, job opportunity, connection, etc.

Be ruthless and relentless with your research. For new contacts, connections, opportunities, and information to support your pitches/job interviews/networking conversations, new technologies, and trends within your field. Read everything credible you can get your hands on. Display working knowledge and practical applications of these concepts and how they can benefit the person in front of you/their business.

Create systems. For how you structure emails/pitches, conduct research, different types of workflows/ work template structures for different types of projects, time-blocking, client funnels, etc.

Get comfortable with rejection. Use it as a primer for self-reflection and refining your craft/processes or help you pivot your approach to help you achieve your goals. Never take business decisions on behalf of a company personally (and vice versa).

Give yourself breaks, but don't give up. Tapping out for good is the only surefire way to fail at an endeavor. Be flexible in your path, but zeroed in on your goal(s). Learn when to quit or pivot, and when it's time to coast or seek growth.

[delfiore]

—A SUMMER’S TALE.

pairing: vada cavell x reader

synopsis: the summer before college, vada joins mia's family on vacation in france and falls in love with the scenery, and a charismatic lifeguard.

word count: 9.6k

warnings: talk of the shooting

a/n: it's summer so you know my cmbyn flare ups are happening. i’ve been writing this for a few weeks now and i’m super pumped it’s done. pls let me now what you like, what you don’t like about this! i’d really appreciate some feedback!! and i’m sorry if i can’t reply to you if you comment on this as this acc is a secondary blog

The villa had one feature that stood out in particular—a hallway that ran through the base of the house, connecting the kitchen to the open grass area in the back. Even the tiniest gust of wind could collect into a large breeze to combat the sticky heat of the day.

Vada closed her eyes and lifted her arms by her side as she felt the breeze glide through her. She could smell an earthy, hay-like smell of flowers that had been bathing in sunlight wafting in from the garden behind the villa. It didn’t take much to notice; summer in southern France was in full swing.

I could live here, she thought. Four weeks of this? Away from the repetitive scenery of the American suburbs, away from expectations. Only a few minutes since she’s gotten off the car and seen the yellow walls and red bricks of the Mediterranean villa, and she’s been buzzing ever since. She’s never actually left the country before, and the long flight over was jarring, to say the least. But the beauty of what she saw as soon as she landed made up for it.

Mia had instructed her to come along upstairs to put her things away; Vada would be occupying the guest room next to hers. She swore her friendship with Mia Reed started because they both went through a traumatic thing together, but it was moments like these when she was grateful for the perks.

“I could use a nap,” Mia said, rubbing her face.

It was nearly nine in the morning when the girls finished unpacking. Mia’s parents had given them the morning to get settled and get used to the jet lag.

“I’m not too tired,” Vada said, “maybe I’ll go into town for the morning.”

“You sure you don’t need me to come with you?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. It’s about time I put my four years of high school French to the test.”

The road into town winded downhill, and she was grateful she used one of the bikes the Reeds had available at their villa, as she would have dreaded the trek back up, had she gone on foot. She mapped out exactly the way into the town square and was determined to check everything out before returning for lunch. Thank god for Google Maps.

She had also bought a paper map of the town in a nearby kiosk and, after nearly two hours of exploring, mapped out a general layout of notable places in town. There was a fountain in the middle of the square in front of a church that Vada would use as a reference for everything; from the Fountain facing the church going left would be the town hall and that little kiosk, going right would be the local post office and the way back to the villa, opposite the church facing ahead lead down a slanted cobblestone alley full of restaurants and gift shops, as well as the way to the beach.

It must have been in the high 80s (30s Celsius) that day, so Vada decided to reward herself with some ice cream in the town square before she headed back. It was so hot that when sitting on a bench in the shades, she still had to try and keep the ice cream from melting all over her lap.

“Lillian’s ice cream is nice, but it melts quickly. You should try Karim’s down the street.”

Vada looked up at the voice in surprise, as it was English that was being spoken to her.

“Oh, totally!” She replied quickly. “How did you know I speak English?”

“I haven’t seen you around here.”

“But I could have also known French, right?”

“Touché, but I also recognize a compatriot when I see one.”

You wore an oversized white button-up that barely skirted past your black shorts, and your flip-flops indicated that you might have had a better idea of what the weather was going to be like as opposed to her in her high-neck basketball shoes. Peaking out from between the hem of your shirt was a necklace in the shape of a hummingbird, dangling and reflected in the sun.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Maybe a little." You grinned and shook your head from side to side. "Only tourists go to Lillian for ice cream.”

“So you’re not one, I assume.”

“I wouldn’t say so, no. My family has been coming here every summer ever since I was eight. These people are probably sick of me by now.” You chuckled.

This is your time, Vada, be smooth. “Lucky for you, you’ll have someone new to entertain.” She grinned and pointed at herself.

. . . Adequate.

The melodic laugh that escaped you gave her a new-found confidence, and she decided that it was to be her new favorite sound.

“Alright, since you seem to know the area so well,” Vada said. “What’s fun to do around here?”

Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you, she had almost forgotten that she only met you 15 minutes ago. Granted, you were also easy on the eye, and Vada would always remember the way the water from the fountain reflected in waves across your skin.

At one point she had started talking about the time her family got stranded in the middle of nowhere on a road trip to Phoenix. Vada felt like she was talking too much, but the way you laughed along with her story made her feel like it wasn’t for naught.

The bell tower of the church rang throughout the square. Vada widened her eyes and checked her phone, it was noon.

"Shit, I have to get back. My host family's gonna wonder where I am." She stood up quickly and collected her bike. The height of the seat and her haste caused her to stumble, and she would have fallen if not for you grabbing her by the arm and holding her up.

"Oh, okay. I’m sure there’s a story about a daytime Cinderella somewhere.”

She looked up and you were smirking. "Vada," she said. Maybe she shouldn’t have told you, Cinderella was fine, you didn’t know each other.

She could barely make out your attempt at her name on your lips before you nodded.

“Y/N.” You held your hand out for her to take. There was that touch that changed the course of her summer, the one touch that set into motion a journey toward a certain feeling that Vada had never felt before.

"Bye, Y/N!" She called behind her before rounding the corner, past the post office, and back to the Reed villa.

Mia had been waiting by the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Vada cycling uphill.

"Where the hell have you been? We thought you'd been kidnapped!"

"Wait, could you get kidnapped here?" Vada’s face dropped at the thought, even though she was positively out of breath.

"You could get kidnapped anywhere, V."

"Well, I got lost." She hopped off her bike and set it by the entrance. "My phone died so I couldn't use Maps."

Her friend rolled her eyes and led her inside where a hearty lunch awaited. It was mid-June and apricots were in season for dessert.

It wasn't until late afternoon the next day that Vada regained the energy to go outside again. The jet lag had finally caught on, and she spent the morning asleep until noon. Mia had suggested going to the beach, which was great because she could see how things were, and either get into the water or take another nap.

Mia—being Mia—wore her bathing suit and a thin cardigan as her attire, while Vada decided on wearing an oversized tee and shorts over her bathing suit.

"Don't freak out. I've invited some friends. Just kids from the area," said Mia, once they arrived at the beach.

Vada stayed back, as Mia was greeted by several people similar in age to her, speaking in French at a pace her high school education couldn’t help her understand.

“This is Vada, she’s a friend from home.”

A curly-headed boy stood up from his lounge chair and sauntered over to give Mia a kiss on each cheek, then looked over to Vada and did the same. “Corentin, but please call me Coco,” he said and took both their bags. Vada didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on Mia’s form a bit longer than normal.

“Come, Vada! Mia, where have you been hiding this one? I’m Marlène. This is Sasha.” The brunette pulled her by the hand and gestured to the boy sitting next to her. He was slender with blonde hair part in the middle. “We’re about to go into the water if you want to join.”

“Where’s Noémie?” asked Mia.

“Déjà à l’eau. No doubt to show off to the lifeguard.” Sasha snickered, nodding his head towards the water. He took another drag from his cigarette and rested his arm back against Marlène’s chair.

“Speaking of the lifeguard . . .” Vada followed Marlène’s gaze towards . . . you.

Her mouth hung open as she watched you, in red shorts and a white T-shirt, a whistle hanging from your neck. You pulled your sunglasses up to your head and gave Mia la bise.

Of course, she thought. She had hoped to see you again, but only when there was no one else around, and that you’d catch her by surprise when she was alone once more. She’d only met you, but she wished that she could have you all alone, not like a secret, but like a prized possession.

“And just how many people have died while you’re on watch?” Mia teased.

“Zero, but very soon,” you pointed at her, “one.”

When you turned to Vada, her breath hitched. “Hi,” you greeted with that warm smile again. Even in your work attire, she spotted that necklace next to your whistle.

“Y/N, this is—”

“Vada, the daytime Cinderella. We met yesterday in the square.” You replied. “Did I forget to mention I work here?”

Vada was grinning like an idiot, her cheeks tinted pink at the nickname. “Yup, you did.”

“Y/N!” Over jogged a gorgeous girl, even Vada had to admit. Her black bathing suit hugged her curves perfectly, and though her hair was completely wet, the water droplets clinging to her olive skin made her glow. “T'as prévu aller en boîte ce week-end, ou bien? J'ai chopé l'info qu'y a un nouveau DJ en ville, et il envoie du pâté!”

She was clinging onto your arm, and speaking way too fast for Vada to understand, but she picked up on some keywords: ce week-end, and nouveau DJ.

When she finally noticed Vada there, her excitement subsided, but she walked over anyway to greet her, like an afterthought. “Salut. I’m Noémie.”

“Hi. Vada.”

Just as quickly as you arrived, Noémie had led you away, talking your ear off about something that Vada didn’t have the heart to eavesdrop on. Her eyes followed your form, picking up on the way you kept your arms by your side even when Noémie was practically hanging off of you. In a sporadic moment, Vada thought she saw you looking back over her shoulder at the friend group, and maybe toward her.

“Your phone died, huh?” Mia poked her elbow into her side with a teasing grin.

“Shut up,” Vada murmured. “What’s the deal with them anyway?”

“They were together last summer,” Sasha replied, then turned to the others. “Plan cul, how do you say?”

“A fling, but Noémie seems more attached than Y/N ever did,” said Coco.

“No doubt Y/N has already found a new paramour for the summer,” Marlène commented.

“It’s summertime. Anything’s possible.”

As much as she hated it, you plagued her mind, much more than she cared to admit. She didn’t want to think about what your initial conversation meant to you (if it did at all), or what the lack of words in your second meeting meant. She didn’t want to think about Noémie either, how she seemed so confident to get your attention, and an up-and-down look from her made Vada want to crawl into a hole.

She remembered the handshake. The speed at which she rode away wasn’t entirely to get home in time before Mia’s parents called the police, but to get away from the butterflies that burst in her stomach that moment her hand firmly shook yours. She’d seen how you greeted your friends, but to her, she offered a handshake. Though the gesture itself was completely platonic and can be passed off as a farewell between two strangers, she felt a sense of exclusivity, that American camaraderie you shared with her in a foreign land. Common courtesy as a mode of intimacy. Revisiting it now, Vada recognized it as a sign of attraction and an apprehension to the speed at which it enveloped her.

She would see you around town in your work uniform after your shift, sometimes you’d be talking to people, sometimes you were the buyer yourself. No matter the person though—from the tourists asking for directions to the old owner of the bookstore by the fountain, they always loved you and talked to you like you were their best friend. She’d see you from afar, wanting to talk to you, but then get anxious the moment you spotted her a give her a friendly wave.

Then there were times when you would come by the Reed villa. Philip and Andre always received you like you were an esteemed guest, gifting you fruits from the trees in the backyard. She loved to see how you acted around different people, and to the Reeds who had known you for years, you were awful shy.

“Invite your parents over. We should all have dinner sometime!”

“Oh, my parents aren’t here this summer. My dad’s busy with a conference in Singapore, but they’ll drop by at the end of July.”

Even the times you were invited to stay for supper, it was clear you knew how to hold a conversation over the dinner table. She wondered if you were studying to be a politician because you seemed to charm everyone and had the best manners. Mia would not-so-subtly yield the spot next to you for Vada, and secretly, she was glad to be sitting next to you.

For the first time in her life, she felt a force holding her back, preventing her from reaching out. Maybe it was because she had only known you for a couple of weeks but felt like you’d always been there, like a puzzle finally piecing together.

And every time, right before you left, after you had said goodbye to the Reeds, you’d find her somehow. “Bye,” would be all you said with an adoring smile, but Vada would be thinking about it until the next day.

She and Mia met up with the group again one night, this time at a nearby open-air disco. When she arrived, she could spot Sasha and Marlène already twirling each other around on the dance floor, she was laughing as he spun her around, cigarette between his lips. She felt a pang of envy, imagining that it was your arms around her waist instead as you spun her around without a care in the world, in front of everyone. Let them see. Let them see that you’re mine and I’m yours. If she were being honest, she only agreed to come just so she could see you again. She found you sitting at a table with Coco and Noémie, chatting away.

“Hi.” Her attention was focused on you. She couldn’t be more sober, and she wished she had taken a few puffs before coming.

As if having read her mind, Coco pulled out a couple of joints, lighting one and taking a puff himself before passing it to Noémie.

“You partake?” You shouted over the loud music.

“Oh, she partakes.” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “The first time she did weed she smoked most of my joint. Then proceeded to blabber on nonstop for two hours.”

You let out a laugh. “I like this one!”

She hated, despised even, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be near you, to impress you, to feel special in your eyes as you were in hers. It was human nature; everyone liked feeling special, but somehow getting validation from you would make her ten times happier. She sat two seats away from you—next to Mia and Noémie—and once in a while, she would try and dart her eyes over to look at you ever so subtly. On a couple of occasions, her heart would jump when she noticed you were already looking back.

A few minutes later, Vada started to feel the effect of the weed, and Mia must have too because she pulled her toward the dance floor. Looking back, she saw you talking to Noémie. You didn’t look too happy and neither did she, having her arms crossed in front of her chest. Then, she walked outside and you followed her impatiently. When you returned, a polite smile was on your face when you noticed her looking for you.

“Are you okay?” She shouted, the weed had made her feel bold.

“Yeah! Everything’s fine.” You shouted back.

It might have been the weed or it was something that’s already been there, but Vada couldn’t take her eyes off of you. She took you by the hand, and there was that same spark of electricity again. You let her guide you, your hands never leaving hers as you moved with her.

It was about a quarter to midnight when everyone decided to split because frankly, everyone was too tired to continue. Vada said goodbye to Sasha and Marlène, the latter of whom gave her a big hug and repeatedly expressed her delight that Vada had decided to join them. Coco, already sober, offered to drive Mia home, but his ride was a scooter.

“Sorry, les gars,” Coco smiled sheepishly and asked Mia if she was ready, to which the girl only nodded.

“I’ll walk you home.” You said quietly, surprisingly timid. “Promise me you won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

She huffed through her nose and gave you a shove, but she was grinning. It was just the two of you now. Her pride was on the line, and so was her heart.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice cut through the stillness of the night. Before that, the only sounds were that of your shoes brushing against the ground and the soft sighs of the ocean.

“Is everything okay with Noémie?”

You averted your eyes, your hand coming up to play with the hummingbird on your neck.

Maybe she shouldn’t have. “Shit, did I overstep?”

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just Noë being Noë, she was out of line.” Your walls were up. “We were always close, she was the first friend I made here. And last summer we slept together.”

“Oh.” Her steps faltered.

“I stopped it before it could progress into anything beyond that, though. I’m just not ready.”

Vada nodded slowly. Loud and clear. Maybe that was the signal she needed, the insecure part of her thought it was that, but when she was with you, all she wanted to do was listen to the other part.

“I slept with Mia once, sophomore year.”

You looked over at her, seemingly surprised. “Mia? Huh. Never would have thought.”

“It was just that, though.” She flashed you a smile.

Vada felt that surge of closeness between you, your arm swinging beside her as you walked. The obsession with finding anything to relate to you prompted her to say it, like Hey, I’m like you, I know how you feel. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to tell you, she might have screwed up.

You mirrored her smile, but something about it told her that your heart wasn’t entirely in it. Tell me what you’re thinking, Y/N. She wanted to get inside your head and know everything you were thinking, to go all the way with that closeness. Even as friends, one has to start from somewhere.

It was radio silence from you for the next few days. Vada came up with all the excuses as to what it could have been, and when she grew tired and angry at herself for thinking so much about you, she tried to distract herself by doing other things. She helped Philip collect figs from the trees in the backyard; she looked up the fortress nearby you told her about the day you met and biked all the way over there, even though it was a half an hour's ride each way; she finally took out the book she packed with her and began reading it whilst sunbathing. It was starting to feel like a summer that she should be enjoying.

Her mom called and was happy to hear that her daughter was going outside and doing fun things. “The people are nice,” Vada would say, “I met some of Mia’s friends.” And in true Mom fashion, her mom would quickly squeeze in a “Don’t do drugs and use protection” to which she ended the call and almost threw her phone across the room.

She would also call Nick every other day. I met someone, she said one day after having finally gathered the courage to vocalize her crush. Girl, I know. Mia had told him. When? Literally the second day. She said you were so obvious.

It was as if the weather knew too. It started raining all day when she decided to go to the beach one day, souring her mood entirely. She would sit by the entrance in the backyard watching the rain, and sure enough, she was thinking about what you were doing on the opposite end of town.

“It’s unlike you to be so hung up on someone,” Mia told her when they were hanging out in Mia’s room.

“I’m not hung up on someone,” her words trailed at the end, mindlessly flipping through the magazine in front of her.

“So am I just crazy for thinking that you want to pounce on Y/N every three seconds?”

“Okay, but what about you and Coco? He follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy.”

“Coco’s just shy,” her friend blushed. “And stop changing the subject.”

“There’s nothing between us, at least not yet.”

“So you do want something to happen.”

“Shut up! Mia!” She hid her face behind her hands and writhed on Mia’s bed in embarrassment. “I’m not talking to you about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” Mia held her hands up as her laughter subsided.

“Look, I just want to—” Vada took a moment. “I want to test the waters, okay? Y/N is special, and I don’t want to ruin anything.”

Mia nodded, understanding. “I just don’t want you to be misled. I mean, you’ve seen how it was with Noémie.”

“I know.” Vada smiled softly. “I know what I’m getting into. Zero expectations.”

She wanted to believe what she told Mia too, but then when she saw texts from you the next day, there was no hiding that a connection was what she so tirelessly wanted, and needed.

hey it’s y/n Sent 3:23pm

mia gave me your number, i hope you don’t mind Sent 3:23pm

call me when you see this? Sent 3:24pm

Damn you, Mia, but also, thank you.

She didn’t work up enough courage to call you until later that night. Of course, it could have been something dire, but then you would have called her first, right? I am such a wimp.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” she rubbed her hands against her shorts. “it’s Vada. You wanted me to call you?”

“Yeah. I was gonna just text you, but I don’t know . . .” You hesitated for a moment. “Anyway, you ever been to Antibes?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I’m going there on Friday for my apprenticeship, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I’m just giving some manuscripts to my mentor, and then leaving them with him for a few hours to review, so we can make a fun day out of it. It’s a one-hour drive, so I don’t plan on staying overnight.”

“Friday you said?” Vada took a deep breath to still her racing heart. “I don’t think I got anything better to do that day.”

“Great!” You said. “I’ll pick you up at 9am?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Cool, see you then!”

There was something frightening about when things go exactly how you wanted them. It was inch-perfect, the puzzle pieces just slotted in place as if they were always fated to be. You were the first to reach out; she thought it would be easier that way, she’d just have to take your hand and come along. But there was a certain apprehension that Vada had as if she was walking straight into the lion’s den like a deer blinded by hunger. What if she loses her heart? She was aware of the dangers of heartbreak, of course—she was no fool—but the thought of giving her heart to you, then watching you walk away with it like an unwanted gift was too devastating.

Mia was practically bouncing off the walls when Vada told her about the phone call, saying that in all seven years of knowing you, she had never been special enough to receive a call. She didn’t exactly say the latter part, but she all but implied it.

On Friday morning, Vada woke up earlier than usual, made herself some breakfast, and was already waiting at the door with a backpack by 8:45. No later than 9:05, you arrived with a Volkswagen Golf, sunglasses on, and a bright smile.

“Music?” You offered, turning on Bluetooth. “Also, if you need a pee break, please tell me. Bladders can be untimely.”

“Noted,” Vada giggled.

The car ride was mostly silent, aside from the music you let her pick and the fun facts you enlightened her with about some of the landmarks you drive past.

“That one I believe was built in the later 1600s and owned by a minor Provence viscount. It was also in a strategic location for the military until it was abandoned after the French Revolution. Also, the viscount built the castle for his second wife, but she died shortly after giving birth to their child.”

“That’s a little sad,” said Vada.

“She was also 14 when she died and he was in his 50s.”

Vada grimaced. “Maybe death was a sweet relief.”

“Yeah. It was more common back in the day than you think.”

“How do you know all this?” She brought her legs up against her chest.

“I like history. I like to learn about the areas I’m in, and in the time that I’ve been here, I’ve had a lot of opportunities to learn.”

She watched your side profile for a moment. “You mentioned some manuscripts. What is it for?”

“Is this an interview now?” You laughed and glanced over at her, and she looked down with a blush. “It’s for my bachelor’s thesis. Technically I don’t start writing until next year, but I like to practice whenever I can. This one that I’m giving to my mentor is a collection of essays.”

“Can I read them?” You looked over for a moment, then reached behind you to grab a file of paper and handed it to her.

Vada settled back and opened the first pages, and read in silence. She could feel you spare short glances at her from time to time, nervously watching for her reaction, but she was so engrossed in your writing it almost didn’t matter that you were sitting next to her. This might have been what it feels like to peer into someone’s soul, to see the traces of fresh blood as they lay their heart onto paper.

It was a beautiful sunny day, the waters shone a deep turquoise, and the French Riviera looked glorious as ever. And yet, she could only get lost in your words.

“This is beautiful,” Vada breathed, setting the papers down on her lap. “You’re amazing.”

You looked ahead at the road, eyes covered by shades, but your large grin was unmissable.

You parked the car on the side of the street in front of several apartment buildings. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” Vada only nodded and watched you cross the street with the manuscripts in your hand. She liked how it felt between you two, and she would gladly accompany you on every trip until you were sick of her.

Mere minutes later, you returned. “I hope you’re ready for the best adventure of your life.”

Only, she knew it would be.

You first led her to the market in the vieille ville, where you bought some fruits and snacks for the way. Vada also got to witness firsthand your bargaining skills, asking for a price and then pretending to walk away until the vendor becomes desperate enough to settle. “I used to be really bad at this, but then I watched my mom do it, and now I kind of just do. These vendors hike up their prices for tourists like crazy.” You walked away proudly with a bag of food.

As the both of you walked through the picturesque alleys and streets, you proceeded to tell her more about the city and its history. She listened carefully, hanging onto every word that left your lips. You told her about how Antibes was first named Antipolis and part of Ancient Greece before it was built by the Romans in the time of Julius Caesar; how in the Middle Ages the city fell under the fiefdom of the Grimaldi family, the main branch of which is now royalty of Monaco.

“Sorry, you gotta stop me before I go on a tangent,” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’ve been talking for ages.”

“No, I like it.” She said quickly. “I like listening to you talk. It’s no surprise many artists were so taken with this place.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Hemingway, Picasso, and Monet all had a fascination with this city.” She had to look that up, but you didn’t need to know that.

“That’s right,” you nodded. “In fact, I’ll show you the spot where Monet painted one of his paintings later.”

After lunch, you both walked along the city walls that looked out to the beach.

“I’m just saying, Ratatouille piqued a lot of interest in the dish, and it wasn’t a coincidence. I mean, I’ve never tried it but I’d love to, just because it looked so good in the movie.” Vada said.

“You’ve never had ratatouille?!” You exclaimed loudly making Vada laugh. “Man, it’s a staple here in southern France! I’ll have to make you some because that is just criminal.”

“Okay, Chef Remy. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Actually, I’ll make a whole batch for you and the Reeds too. They always give me fruits from their backyard,” you said. “How did you meet Mia anyway?”

At the question, Vada’s smile collapsed into a frown. “Um . . .” You watched her, a confused look on your face. “I’ve always known who she was. I mean, it’s Mia, you know? But one day we met officially in the bathroom at school.”

“Oh,” you voiced. You must be confused as to why that was so hard to squeeze out, but the latter part, the part she kept hidden, she had been trying to squeeze out for two years.

“We were in the bathroom while there was a shooting going on.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you only ended up watching her. Then, a moment later, “I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No, it’s fine.” Vada shook her head. “You didn’t know.”

“I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.” Your eyes softened and you looked like you had kicked a puppy.

“I know,” she said, taking a breath.

“I see it on the news all the time, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to be there,” you said quietly. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Vada hated having to talk about it. If she could have it her way, she would bury it deep down so it never sees the light of day again. Still, she has to talk about it to her friends, her family, her therapist sometimes. She hated talking about it because she’d have to see the way people’s faces contort uncomfortably as they scramble to find consoling words to say. They don’t make her feel any better, and she never liked people seeing that broken side of her reflected back at them.

But when she looked at you right now, there wasn’t a trace of ego in the way that you look back at her. Deep down, she had always wanted to lay it on you, to give you a piece of her, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

Because she wanted you to see it.

Vada found your hand by your side, soft and comforting. She kept her eyes on them; her hand and your hand, intertwined together. You embraced it and rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb before kissing it. A kiss of friendship, a kiss of love, a kiss of two young people in a city far from home together who had only just met. A kiss that said I see you, I hear you, you’ve got me around your corner.

“You wanna go grab some dinner?” She asked.

Dinner turned into even more talk. Towards late afternoon, you said you wanted to catch the sunset before going to the spot you claimed Monet painted the city. It was a quick drive, but you pumped your fists in the air when you got out of the car and were happy with how the sun rolled over the city just right.

“Come on, you’re gonna miss it!” You jogged towards the edge of the water, beaming like a little kid. It had become natural between the two of you to share skin-ship.

Behind the trees, there it was. Across the blue water, Antibes basked in the last few rays of sunlight in stoic tranquility, just as Monet had seen it. Perhaps she was in one of Monet’s paintings, frozen in time, stuck with you.

She found your hand again, your left this time, and once again your gaze followed, but this time, you trailed your gaze to her eyes. God help me, she thought.

There were so many things Vada wanted to blurt out, and she was close to it. Holding back was never her strong suit, but once she got a good look at the depth of your eyes, she felt that they were better appreciated in silence. Words don’t do anything but snitch on you anyway.

She didn’t need to, because the moment she turned to look at you, she felt you grab her face gently and lay the softest kiss on her lips.

The sun continued to glare, yet Antibes stared on.

Did Monet ever paint lovers?

Liar.

Liar.

Vada felt like she’d make a mistake for giving in to it. She saw her younger self in the square that day, by the fountain, eating ice cream. She saw you talking to her, and she wanted to scream and tell herself to stop, to save herself the heartache. No one else was to blame, not even you, only her.

Antibes was a week ago, and she hasn’t really spoken to you ever since. She replayed the kiss over and over in her head, trying to pinpoint exactly the moment when you decided that keeping your distance would be the best course of action.

But then she remembered the way you acted alone with her was much different than how you were with the others around. She saw the way your eyes linger on her when you thought she was admiring the sea. She noticed the way you smiled bashfully when she brought up how good your essays were in front of your mentor. She remembered how you never let go of her hand when she grabbed it while you watched the sunset.

Marlène and Sasha had been a big help in getting her out of her slump. Mia was there to cuddle with her the first couple of nights after Vada told her everything, but rendezvous with Coco had kept her busy. But Marlène and Sasha were cool, and probably one of the healthiest couples she’s ever seen at the age of 20. She felt like their adoptive child hanging out with them, especially when Sasha would greet her by endearingly calling her Petit Vada.

“And have you talked to her?” Marlène asked, leaning over the lounge chair. She and Vada had been sunbathing and swimming at the Reed villa that afternoon.

“No.” Vada sighed. “It’s just—I just don’t get it! Why does she have to be so mysterious all the time? Like one moment we would be fine, and the next she’s somewhere else, someone else entirely.”

“That’s Y/N,” Marlène chuckled and took a sip from her margarita. “You know, when I and Sash first got together, he wasn’t as talkative as he is now. In fact, I was the one to ask him out. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and tell them.”

“That’s so easy to say,” Vada muttered, and put her face in her hands.

“That’s the kind of attitude you should save for when you go back to your other life, your American life. Are you going to university this fall? Summer’s halfway over, you know? Are you going to mull over it and let it pass by you?”

“Yes.” Vada’s voice was muffled through her hands.

“Carpe diem, mon chère.” Marlène shrugged. “It’s cheesy but it’s true.”

Andre being the ever BBQ dad that he was, decided to host a get-together with some friends that night, and encouraged Mia to invite hers. Everyone that Vada met at the beach showed up, including Noémie, except for you.

“She said she was busy,” Noémie waved it off. Vada pursed her lips. The fact that you talked to Noémie first stirred uneasy envy in the pit of her stomach.

She didn’t have the stomach to sit outside and spoil everyone’s fun with her sour face (most of all she didn’t want to give Noémie that satisfaction), so she made a plate for herself and ate in the living room.

“Hey, kiddo,” she looked up and saw Philip walk past her toward the kitchen. “Not feeling the party?”

Vada made a face to indicate a yes, but she didn’t want to explain further. “Just not really in the mood, sorry.”

“It’s okay. You can’t stop Andre from barbecuing when he has the urge or he’d literally combust.”

She nodded and smiled. “We don’t want that.”

“We’re serving fruits now. Want me to get you some?” He pointed at her empty plate.

“Yes, please. Thanks.” She hesitated for a beat. “Hey, Philip?”

The man turned around.

“How did you know that you wanted to marry Andre?”

Philip contemplated for a second, then walked over to the couch where she sat, leaning against it. “I didn’t wake up one day and choose to propose to him, Vada. It’s just one of those things when you start to notice that gnawing feeling in your chest. And you’d have to ask yourself, ‘Would I be fine going the rest of my life without them?’”

Vada nodded slowly and smiled as the man went back to the kitchen. She opened her phone and went to your messages. The last text from you was from a week ago. She began typing.

can we talk? Sent 8:47pm

A mere five minutes later, you responded.

of course Sent 8:47pm

meet me at the fountain at 10? Sent 8:48pm

see u there Sent 8:48pm

Vada found you walking back and forth by the Fountain, one hand in deep your pants pocket, the other holding a cigarette between your thumb and index, and puffing it as if it would give you a lifeline. She got off her bike and set it by the railing of the Fountain where you stood.

“You smoke?”

“Not usually,” you attempted to smile, shaking your arms as if to shake off an invisible burden. You were anxious, it was clear.

Vada didn’t know what to say next, so she leaned against the railing of the Fountain, rolling a pebble back and forth underneath her shoe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier. I was busy.”

She nodded half-heartedly, not looking up. She wished you’d come up with a better excuse than that.

“Are you angry with me?”

“Angry’s a strong word, Y/N.”

Another puff. “Are you discontent with me?”

She should have prepared herself for the nit-picky bullshit from a writer. “I don’t have a valid reason to be upset with you, not really. Unless I’ve been reading this wrong.”

“You haven’t.” You answered quickly and met her eyes. “I promise. It wasn’t very mature of me. In fact, I think I acted like a total idiot. I’m really sorry.”

“Do you regret kissing me?”

“No, not at all. And you have to believe me.” You sighed exasperatedly, and she almost felt bad because you looked so anxious.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Vada stepped towards you, facing you head-on. “You’re asking me whether I’m upset with you, but I don’t even know what you’re thinking most of the time. And then you disappear as though I did something wrong! How fair is that?”

You nodded and took another drag from your cigarette. Then, you dropped the butt on the floor and stomped on it. “I’m thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”

Vada scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

You stood up from your spot against the railing, your face now inches from hers. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.”

She felt the exact moment her body became as light as a feather as your lips pressed against hers. Her hands clenched by her side, and come up to hold onto your shoulders, because she was afraid her legs might give out under her. You angled your face and deepened the kiss, and Vada sighed into your mouth. This is what the poets all wrote about, the inevitability of giving in to what you’ve wanted for so long. She’s caged in you in between her body and the Fountain, kissing you and touching you as though her life depended on it.

You moved to lower your kisses to her neck, but she leaned back and saw a dark look in your eyes.

The sound of a street musician playing the saxophone in the distance somewhere echoed through the square. Wordlessly, Vada took your hand.

She followed you by bike towards your house, which was towards the end of the street closer to the beach. You returned to speaking only one or two words to her, telling her to put her bike by the door next to yours, to take her shoes off before coming in, and whether she wanted some water.

“Nice place.” It was another thing that she never thought to ask you about, nor did you tell her. But it wasn’t a surprise that your family was loaded too, considering the vacation home in an area like this.

“Thanks. It’s my parents’, though.”

“What do they do again?”

“Well, my mom does interior design and my dad is a football agent.”

“Football agent? Who does he represent?”

“Mostly American players in Europe; Christian Pulisic, Luca de la Torre, Gio Reyna. I remember my dad bringing me along to dinner with Sergio Agüero once because he considered a move to LAFC. That was pretty cool.” You stood against the wall in the hallway, next to the staircase, kicking your feet aimlessly. The small talk was to cover up for something else.

You fell into a deep silence. Vada took a step forward under the yellow light of the hallway and took your hand, stroking it gently.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly.

You and she both knew you were way past just kissing. This was new territory, and there would be no going back after this.

You nodded, and she surged forwards to kiss you slowly. This time, it felt different. You kissed her without the chastity and fear of being looked in on but without the hunger of overcoming lust. It was a perfect blend of passion and appreciation, a marriage of everything felt within the past few weeks.

You lead her upstairs, towards your room. Once inside, your lips were still glued to hers as you let her walk backward, though your eagerness made her trip on your feet and fall onto the mattress.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. ‘M sorry.” The two of you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to make it up to her with a shower of kisses.

As her giggles quickly turned into pleasant sighs, she decided to surrender herself to you, to her deepest desires ever since the day she arrived. You had charmed her from the moment she laid eyes on you. But now to feel your hands on her in all the right places took her to new heights of pleasure that she’s never experienced before. How beautiful it was to be herself, to be here in this moment, and to cherish and be cherished by you. But most of all, to hear you whisper her name and profanities in the most sinful and vulnerable ways, so unlike your polished and composed self in front of other people.

Vada, Vada, Vada . . .

She awoke in the morning, the sun piercing through the horizontal slits of the shut windows. There was sweat sticking to her skin, but she didn’t want to get up and shower, not when you were still soundly asleep, arm loosely wrapped around her torso. It was then that she realized that you both were still very naked, but she reveled in the skin-to-skin contact like it was giving her strength and vitality. The golden hummingbird sat on your chest, rising and falling with each of your breaths.

Vada caught the moment your eyes fluttered open and focused on her. Then a smile.

“What time is it?” You asked.

Vada leaned over to check the clock on the wall. “7:41.”

You grumbled. “My shift starts at 8:30.”

“You better chop-chop then.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

“Then don’t.” Vada placed her chin on your upper chest. “Stay here with me, and we can recreate last night.”

You chuckled and kissed her once. “That sounds really tempting.”

And yet, you moved to get up, but she held you back. “Five more minutes.”

“Only five?” You smirked.

“You don’t think I can do it in five?”

You grinned like a Cheshire cat and settled back.

Vada had to let you go eventually, you let her stay at yours and do as she pleased. She suddenly remembered that she never texted Mia back about staying out overnight, and sure enough, flipped her phone over to a few missed calls and text messages. After texting her back and reassuring her that she was okay, she got up and went to take a shower.

You came back around four and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it felt like forever until you walked through the doors again. And the moment you did, she pounced on you like a lion.

“I’m so sweaty,” you laughed but soon became lost in the sensation of her lips against yours.

You made love again that afternoon. Vada could almost picture the routine that she and you so easily fell into, how the puzzle pieces fit together so seamlessly. It almost felt like she had cheated somehow to feel this way, that it truly felt as magical and wonderful as it was laying in your arms, both of you stark naked. You had showered and smelled much like lavender. Your eyes were closed but you weren’t asleep, as she watched your chest rise and fall steadily. Sometimes you would murmur something and she would talk to you quietly, knowing you were tired from a day’s work at the beach.

“I knew I liked you from the first day, at the Fountain,” you said.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?!” Vada looked up and hit your chest playfully.

“I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare you away!”

“Jesus Christ,” she sat up and put her face in her palms. “Y/N, I wanted you so badly. Like, I could not go a day without thinking about you. It was actually becoming unhealthy how much I did.”

“Oh? I’m flattered.” You smirked and rubbed her knee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because . . . After Antibes, I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”

Your face dropped slightly. “I was scared to get close to someone. I think I caught myself then after we kissed. It was scary how much I wanted your company.”

Vada could understand. You’ve only known each other for three weeks. What were you to each other? Maybe it didn’t matter, there was something comforting about just existing as two souls being present with each other. She realized that the fear she’d harbored about losing her heart was all in vain; you never took it for yourself, you’d only pressed your hand against her chest and encouraged it to keep beating—to keep being hers—while you’d hoped that she would do the same to you.

“If you could go back to that day at the Fountain, and do it differently, would you?” Vada asked.

You thought for a second, then shook your head. “No. I always want to remember you this way.”

Vada swallowed thickly and avoided your eyes. “We’re leaving next week.”

A silence hung in the air, unspoken words stuck in her throat. Tell me to stay. Tell me you’ll come back with me. Tell me you’ll never love anyone else. Tell me you’d forget about me so as to soothe the pain.

“Then let’s make it count,” you brushed a hair from her eyes. “We’re not the first, and we won’t be the last to love each other.”

She dreaded the flight back home, having to pretend leaving you wouldn’t be as hard in front of Mia and her parents, and about 300 strangers. She’d miss biking everywhere and the beach and Lillian’s ice cream (she had grown to like it over Karim’s). She’d remember Antibes and Monet’s spot. She’d remember your face and how you seemed to appear in every memory of this trip.

Vada felt you brushing your finger under her eye and realized that it was wet. Then you brought her into your arms and held her tight as she hid from the world in your neck. You cooed and somehow it made Vada feel worse and started crying harder, clinging to your skin desperately.

She’d find space for the grief she was going to feel in her heart somewhere because she knew she’d rather live with the pain than be without you again.

The last week started on a Wednesday. Vada did the usual things she did the last few weeks—go to the beach, bike to town, hang out with the group; she wanted to soak into that last semblance of her summer routine before she had to leave, and everything would be different. She hadn’t given college much thought either. Deciding to move halfway across the country for it was the least stressful part of the whole process, as she was going in undecided. Mia was happy though, because they would only be a few hours apart by train.

Until then, Vada was too afraid to ask you about what would happen after the summer ended. If she asked, it would mean that it was close and it was real. You’d go back to school in Paris and start on your thesis, and everything would go back to the way it was.

Everything would go back to the way it was. As if nothing happened.

She had lived four weeks with you, how was she ever going to go the rest of her life without you?

She met up with you after dinner one night at the beach. The tides had come in much closer and were pulling on her heartstrings mercilessly. In and out, in and out . . . You were as quiet as the night, your eyes gazed towards the distance somewhere, looking pensive.

Still, she was afraid to ask.

“I lied,” you finally spoke. “I wished I had told you sooner how much I liked you.”

Vada remained silent and nodded. “We’ll call.”

“It won’t be the same.”

She knew too that it would never be the same the moment she leaves France. She realized that though she was afraid to ask, time was not on her side, and she didn’t have the luxury to be afraid anymore.

“Will you stay over tonight?” Vada asked, and you looked so happy that she did.

Once you stumbled through the door, you leaned in to kiss her instantly. Between wanting to kiss you back and suppressing moans, she told you to be quiet as you followed her upstairs, hand in hand. You failed, however, actually, both of you did, as your giggles trailed up the stairs and through the hallway. Vada would be lucky if only Mia heard you.

The day she left for the airport, you came over to say goodbye. You greeted the Reeds first, giving Philip and Andre big hugs, then turned to Mia to hug as well and kiss her on the forehead.

Vada waited in the backyard. She felt almost pathetic and needy for wanting you to come out here quicker. It won’t be the same.

“Andre gave me this to keep for my parents.”You held up a bottle of wine by the neck. “1983, nice.”

Your smile died down when you noticed her silence. “You got everything?”

She nodded. Wordlessly, she stepped forwards to wrap her arms around your frame. She thought she’d cry, but it was as if her brain was already actively shutting down trying to block out this memory to save her the future heartbreak.

You pressed her tightly against your chest and swayed her back and forth. Upon releasing her, you set down the bottle of wine next to your feet and took off your necklace.

“I want you to have this.” You opened her palm and neatly placed the jewelry inside. “That way, you won’t forget.”

How could you ever think that I would forget when I’m afraid I’ll never be able to let go of this summer?

“I wish we had more time,” Vada said.

“Bye, Cinderella.” Your eyes were glossy now.

The car door was wide open, waiting to take her away from you. For a split second, she considered dropping everything to stay.

She leaned in to kiss you once, deep and hard, “Bye, Y/N.” Then she walked away, the hummingbird clenched in her fist.

You followed her and watched her get in the car. You watched her close it with force and you watched her refuse to make eye contact with you, but you saw the way her lips trembled. You watched the car take her away from you and grazed the spot on your chest where the hummingbird was missing.

It was mid-July, the hottest day of the year, and yet, the ocean waves—blue as it gets—continued to crash against the shore, on and on and on.

[yenonnoff]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 24. plans & precautions

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

since shimizu and y/n live on the same floor of their condo building, they have sleepovers often. the two of them like to have debriefs at the end of each day and cook together.

kuroo, despite being an actor ever since his university days, has not received an acting award yet. he's working on it, though!

jolie went to shiratorizawa during high school: she was a part of the student council and sewing club. in her last year, she decided to join a play and won the hearts of everyone. they all wished she had done theatre sooner since she was so talented and easygoing. however, jolie wouldn't start acting until her university days. (sometimes she would skip her club to watch the boys' volleyball team play their matches.)

the blue flowers in oikawa's post were from iwaizumi.

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: wowow two chapters guys!!! i had a sudden rush of motivation i cant promise the next chapter will be as fast as this one... but summer break is coming up so :DD!!!! thats promising!!!

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)

@kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface @azharyy @mimi3lover @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

[transrevolutions]

asoiaf modern au where agot takes place in the most dysfunctional secondary school ever. arya has an accommodation plan for her adhd that gives her permission to draw in class but cersei (who is the kind of teacher that hates having to follow inclusion policies) gets mad and throws away one of arya's wolf oc drawings except that particular drawing was actually sansa's and when sansa finds out she gets so pissed off that she dumps joffrey over it. joffrey gets cersei to try and get ned removed from his position of assistant principal even though he's basically running the school at that point because robert baratheon (the real principal) keeps getting drunk when he's supposed to be working.

jon joins an after-school self-defense/outdoor survival skills club and somehow ends up in a weird leadership role because he's one of the only ones who knows what he's doing. tyrion shows up sometimes to try and sell him shitty weed. arya is always begging him to let her come even though she's still under the age limit. daenerys is a transfer student who spends every single one of her classes doing wings of fire rp on scratch.mit.edu but still manages to get good grades so a bunch of the teachers hate her because they're convinced she's cheating.

robert baratheon gets fired after the school board gets an anonymous tip about his drinking on the clock. the anonymous tipper is actually cersei because she's mad that he won't let joffrey run for student council because he's gotten in trouble for bullying too much. when ned finds out about this cersei gets him fired too which makes arya mad so she makes jon teach her mma so she can beat up joffrey. catelyn gets so upset about ned getting fired that she convinces herself that tyrion was in on it bc he's cersei's sister despite the fact that cersei fully and actually hates his guts and tyrion wasn't even remotely involved because he was too busy trying to hide from jon's uncle benjen after he caught him trying to sell jon weed.

robb stark (low level admin position but everyone thinks he's just there bc nepotism which is actually sorta true) tries to get the rest of admin to band together to expose cersei but most of them don't give a fuck so he has to try and network with their longtime rival school to try and find allies. he also may or may not have introduced bran to the online furry community and he really really doesn't want ned or catelyn to find out. daenerys somehow manages to get a whole squad of jocks to basically be her personal bodyguards after she introduces them to wings of fire and they get hooked.

catelyn almost kicks jon out because she thinks he taught rickon to curse when actually rickon overheard sansa ranting about joffrey while on the phone with jeyne poole.

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

hey! can i ask for yandere jon kent in a soulmate au setting, where he finds his soulmate in a normal civilian, who seems to be easily charmed by his boyish charm, at least at first

Soulmate! Yandere! Jon Kent x Reader

Jon Kent x reader or Jon Kent/reader

Yandere!Jon Kent x reader or Yandere Jon Kent x Reader

Word count: 4719 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, stalking, imprisonment, adult Jon Kent, obsession. Other than that, there's no s*x or anything of the like.

Let us say that it’s one of those soulmate AUs where you have your soulmate’s name written somewhere on your body. You would have “Jonathan Samuel Kent” wrapped around your wrists like a natural and skin-deep bracelet. Your name is stapled up Jon’s arms, boxy and impersonal letters pressed under his skin, yet he has traced each letter with a sense of reverence ever since he was a little kid, dreaming of when he would finally get to meet you.

Clark was probably a yandere for Lois as well, (he seems like the type), and she was more than happy to indulge him, likely having some of the tendencies too. I can imagine them being attached at the hip whenever they’re at home, never being found alone in a room. Jon probably once wondered if they actually were tied together by an invincible ribbon. It seemed improbable that the two of them were never separated except when Clark was out as Superman. They were together all the time, even at work, both working at The Daily Planet. This was probably how Jon developed his unhealthy love tendencies. He has always adored both of his parents, finding their relationship flawless. The idea of having something like that himself was a thought that he would fall asleep at night dreaming about. His parents’ unhealthy tendencies sowed the seed of disturbing obsession within him.

As a kid, Jon loved writing your name in his school books, every page filled with his rounded letters spelling out “Y/n”. Some of his teachers had been concerned about his seeming obsession with your name and existence; It was normal for kids to be intrigued by the letters stretching out somewhere on their skin, but not to the overly passionate extent of Jon. When this was brought up to Jon’s parents, they simply waved it off. Jon was a good kid, so what if he was a bit obsessed with the name on his arms? They saw nothing wrong with it. As a matter of fact, Clark had been the exact same, and Lois too, although to a lesser degree than her husband. Thus Jon was allowed to let his fixation run wild.

As Jon got older, joined high school and started working together with Damian, he kept looking for you. He had Googled your full name at least a million times without luck. It stung every time, but he refused to stop.

Every time he saved someone around his age, while out patrolling the streets as Superboy, he’d carefully ask their name, hoping for yours to slip from their tongue… it never did. Damian teased him, finding his desperate attempts at finding you pathetic. “I just don’t wanna miss ‘em!” The blue-eyed teen would argue back, frustrated by your elusiveness. 

If Jon was honest with himself, he had hoped for a high school-sweetheart type of romance, but as he became eighteen and left secondary education, that dream was dashed. Jon’s next dream was that the two of you would attend the same university. He even took a year off under the guise of helping his father at the farm, in reality, it was so he could search for you and attempt to see if you went to any of the nearby universities. He wanted to up your chances of meeting each other. 

After high school, Jon was slowly dragged down by the idea that the two of you would never cross paths and that he’d forever have to resign his fate to someone else. There were those whose soulmates died before they ever met or those who didn’t meet their soulmates until they had already fallen in love and made a family with someone else. It was rare, most preferring to wait for the one whose name was written on their skin… but “rare” did not mean impossible. Clark tried his best to cheer up Jon, but no matter what he said, the young man couldn’t help the feeling that he was doomed.

It was ironically when he stopped looking for you, and started his education at Metropolis university, that you appeared in his life. Damian was the one to introduce the two of you. The green-eyed man had met you at Gotham university where you shared a class. The two of you had gotten along surprisingly well, to the point that Damian considered you a close friend. You were neither from Gotham nor Metropolis, as a matter of fact, you might’ve even been from a completely different country. This explained why Jon had never been able to find you, he had always assumed that you only lived a few streets away from him, when in reality you had lived your entire life in a completely different city, never even being near him, until the day Damian invited both of you to the manor. 

When Jon had first shaken hands with you, he had thought nothing special of you. He was impressed that Damian was able to keep you around, and he thought that you seemed pretty cool but other than that you were simply one of Damian’s civilian friends. It wasn’t until he ended up introducing himself and asking for your name that he was rendered frozen. As soon as the words left your mouth, Jon had to excuse himself, it was almost comical how he had waited for this moment his entire life, yet when it finally arrived, he ran away from it. 

It didn’t take him long to return, his demeanour entirely changed. What had previously been charming, albeit shy, smile on his lips had now turned into an almost scarily fixed mien. Had you not known better, you’d have thought that Jon had gotten a Glasgow smile carved into his round cheeks by the Joker himself. As the hangout progressed and the day turned to evening, you started to distance yourself from Jon, almost clambering to be close to Damian at all times. The way Jon stared into your eyes reminded you of the way a predator gazed at its prey. He seemed ready to pounce at any moment, and you didn’t want to be in his line of sight when it happened.

Jon was oblivious to the discomfort he was causing you, instead staring enviously at how you practically hung off Damian’s arm. It made him consider whether the two of you were really “just friends”, or whether the two of you were engaging in, (what was to him), dissident behaviour. “Cheating” on your soulmates by being in an intimate relationship with each other. You weren’t. But the more Jon scared you, the closer you kept to Damian, and the closer you kept to Damian, the more intense Jon’s staring became. It was a vicious cycle and by the time you were meant to go home, you were deadly afraid that Jon would follow. 

Damian had, of course, picked up on both Jon’s unusual behaviour and your poorly hidden fright. So, when it was time that both you and Jon had to leave, Damian offered to walk you home, an offer you were relieved to accept. Jon didn’t like it though, offering to walk you home himself, since he was going anyways, but both you and Damian shot down the idea with obvious hostility. Jon was convinced something was going on, entirely unaware of how bizarre he had been since he heard your name.

Damian more or less ordered Jon to go home before you, Jon was aware that he couldn’t outright challenge Damian’s command, it was his home, after all. However, he refused to just let you leave with Damian…Alone. No! What if you guys did something while he wasn’t there, like holding hands or…or… Kissing! NO! Jon refused! So, as soon as he had said goodbye to both of you, he floated, (as quietly as he could), up to the roof of the manor, avoiding the sensors that Damian had once shown him and then he settled into a crouch, the soles of his converse being held to the slippery tiles with the help of his super-human levitation.

It didn’t take long for you and Damian to exit the manor, slowly making your way to the Wayne garage. At first, Jon was confused, weren’t you guys going to your place? It made him nervous about what you two could be planning on doing when no one else was there, yet his fears seemed unfounded as Damian’s expensive black car soon rolled out. Oh! He was driving you! Now it all made sense in Jon’s mind! Jon didn’t have a car! …There really was no need when he could fly… But, of course, Damian couldn’t risk Jon showing his powers either by flying you or if he had to protect the two of you if you’d get mugged… which was almost a certainty in Gotham, if you were stupid enough to walk at night. Obviously! Why hadn’t Jon thought of that! …Well because that really hadn’t been on the top of Damian’s mind either when he refused to let the Kryptonian walk you home, but Jon didn’t even begin to suspect any other motive.

Following the car, Jon was able to learn where you lived and, oh boy… He wasn’t happy. You lived in an average Gotham university dorm, which was, to put it mildly…lacking. Jon considered it once, letting his baby blue eyes scan the building, and he already found no less than five fire hazards and was sure that if he blew a little too hard on it, all the windows would explode. How could Damian have let you live like this?! Jon sure as heck wouldn’t, at least not for long.

Jon knew that he couldn’t just kidnap you, or “Bring you home”, as he put it. That’d be unusually cruel, and he was lucid enough to realise that you didn’t know him well enough to just accept your destined love outright, but that was okay, he had waited his entire life for you, he could wait a little more. So, he drew up a plan on how to get you to love him. He would watch over you and occasionally strike when the time was right, bumping into you on the street, seeing you in the library etc. Even better, by watching over you he would be able to find out all the topics you were interested in and research them, it would be perfect, he surmised. You two would have so much to talk about!

You would officially meet for the second time one day when you were walking home from the supermarket, clutching a heavy plastic bag filled with the cheap food that most college students buy. You were in your own world, maybe you were listening to music or maybe you were just enjoying the rare Gotham sun, what exactly you were doing doesn’t really matter. Suddenly, the arm of a stranger was slung around your shoulders, dragging you closer to their body. You almost screamed, but then Jon announced his presence with a loud, “Hey! Haven’t seen you since we were at Damian’s!”... An effortless lie.

At first, his sudden appearance frightened you and with your last meeting going horrendously, you were on edge. Still, as Jon started to talk more it became hard for you to keep up your guard. He wasn’t smiling like a creep anymore, rather his face had become the epitome of friendliness, you had no idea what had changed. But Jon did… After your last meeting, Damian confronted Jon about his behaviour and while the blue-eyed man had ignored his friend for the most part, internally accusing him of just wanting to steal Jon’s soulmate for himself, he did catch on to one thing. “Your psycho smile creeped them out!”... So his smile had been the problem, Jon considered. 

As the two of you walked together towards wherever you were headed, you started to warm up to the alien. His southern drawl was cute and quite honestly, his deep interest in you was a refreshing departure from Damian’s tendency to only speak of himself. When the two of you parted you almost wished he would’ve continued staying with you. Still, you held your reserve up, he had been super weird the last time you met…

While you were still sceptical of Jon, that scepticism slowly melted like an iceberg on a hot summer day, drop by drop, as the two of you began to bump into each other more and more. You never considered why Jon was in Gotham so much when he lived near Metropolis, (a fairly long journey to take daily), yet you did find it rather odd that your paths always crossed, even when you changed up your regular schedule. The thought of him following you never crossed your mind, that’s a ludicrous thing to accuse someone of, let alone think about just based on stumbling into a guy pretty often. 

It didn’t take too long for Jon to win you over with his bright smile, deep interest in you and boyish charm. That was a good thing too because Jon had started to miss out on quite a few college classes of his own, to the point where Clark had noticed and sat him down to talk about it. Now, while many other parents…Most parents… would tell their child to kindly stop stalking their soulmate, Clark and ostensibly Lois were not, in fact, normal parents. Rather than discouraging their son’s creepy and downright illegal behaviour, they were understanding of his obsession with you, and even ecstatic that their son had finally found his soulmate. You were technically their soulmate-in-law, so maybe the two of them would develop an obsession as well, less so than Jon, of course, they were more focused on each other, but enough to let their son explain all your likes and dislikes down to the most minuscule of details and let him do what he needed to do, just to get you into their metaphorical and literal arms.   

Jon would do everything to build up a friendship with you, likely keeping it a secret from Damian, and excusing his previously creepy behaviour as him just having an off day. Damian would be none the wiser of his devious plans, and even if you told the green-eyed man that you had met his friend many…many… times, it would rouse very little suspicion. Jon was Damian’s dearest friend, he trusted him with his life! He didn’t even suspect the darkness that Jon harboured for his soulmate.

Maybe as your friendship with Jon progressed, he’d invite you to stay at his family’s home for a few days, and meet his parents and grandparents, it’s a long travel for non-flying people, but he was more than happy to take it with you. You would probably be good enough friends with him at this point to not feel threatened as the two of you boarded the bullet train running between Gotham and the Metropolis area. Jon wasn’t planning on kidnapping you on this trip, no, this was meant to get you used to the place, to his family and the cows and chickens. Like a frog in a bowl of water with ever-increasing temperatures. “Slow and steady wins the race”, that’s what his grandfather, Johnathan Kent, his namesake, had told him many times as a kid and he took it to heart.

You would have had an absolutely lovely time at the Kents’ home, everyone, especially Jon and his parents, were borderline obsessed with making you feel welcome. Martha would bake your favourite treats, (probably write your name on them in icing, as well). Jonathan senior would tell you about all of Jon’s embarrassing moments as a child, especially relating to how he used to pretend-spar with the cows, only to fall in the hay…or manure, when he couldn't keep his balance. Lois and Clark were always excited to talk to you… about you. Talking to them felt like talking to a twin-headed Jon, sweet, energetic…yet as the days passed and they still managed to find new questions about the most niche of subjects pertaining to you, you started to feel like you were being interrogated for an autobiography. Jon, himself, would've probably taught you how to handle farm animals, and taken you to whatever local attractions there might've been.

Now, Jon had originally been surprised when you didn’t recognise his name the first time you met, even more so the many following times. He was concerned, scared even, that you might not be the right Y/N, but one day as he was stalking watching over you, he spotted his own name right at the end of your sweater sleeve, but you didn’t even pay attention to it… Not like him, not in the way he almost got goosebumps the moment his fingers grazed the tattoo-like letters of your name. Could it be…No! He refused to believe it! Were you one of those people who simply didn’t care for soul mates?! No! No! No! That couldn’t be! That was so unfair!  

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Jon decided that you two had been away from each other for too long, that, really, the universe meant for you two to end up together sooner or later, and you were already on the later part. He refused to be without his other half any longer, especially if there was a threat that you’d find another.

Your stay at the Kents’ solidified Jon’s belief that you had to move in with him as fast as possible, preferably on the family farm, where it would be harder for you to get hurt… or escape. There is just one thorn in his side that he can’t account for, Damian.  

Damian was tricky for Jon to account for. You were, as much as Jon dreaded it, also Damian’s friend, and the green-eyed man was known for being fiercely protective and loyal to all of his friends. Ready to lay down his head for them. He could take up a physical fight with Damian, sure, but as his father and Batman had proven time and time again, a little Kryptonium was all that it’d take for a Super to fall in a heap of aching limbs. No, he had to play it smart, problem was that no matter how hard Jon could stretch his intelligence, Damian would always be more intelligent than him. The only way to get you for himself would be to make Damian agree that you’d be better off with Jon than on your own…But how?

Well, Jon could only really come up with one answer to that question… By making you live in a constant state of danger… And if he had to put you in danger himself, so be it. His “master plan” was to reveal his hero identity to you, not just that, but further reveal your connection to Superboy. Now, that might sound like a stupid idea at first, but its simplicity yet effectiveness was brilliant. By revealing your connection to the vigilante world, you would basically be walking around with a target on your back. He would know! That was how his mother had lived ever since his father revealed his secret identity as Superman. Being a civilian openly affiliated with a hero was one of, if not the, most dangerous thing that could happen to someone. The only reason his mother could feel safe was that Clark rarely left her side, but if Jon wasn’t with you to protect you most of the time… you’d be in monumental danger. 

So, he set his plan in motion. First, he invited both you and Damian to his home one weekend, stressing how “This is really important”. Both you and Damian showed up, concerned for Jon’s well-being and entirely blank on what might’ve been going on. “Maybe he’s coming out of the closet? Or he named two cows after us? Maybe his dog ran away? last time that happened we were thirty people out looking for it” Damian joked, a thing he only ever did when he felt the need to calm someone else down, you, in this case. 

But no matter what you and Damian could’ve guessed Jon’s intentions to be, neither of you expected him to come floating down from his roof, fully dressed as Superboy, arms on either side of his hips as he landed close enough for the tip of his nose to touch yours briefly. “I’m Superboy”. 

When Damian saw this theatrical and obviously pre-planned reveal, he did not only want to facepalm at the second-hand embarrassment he felt from it, but he also wanted to strangle Jon. Didn’t he know how dangerous revealing their secret identities could be?! Not just to them, but also to you! … Well, of course, he did, that was the whole point, but Damian couldn’t have known that. 

The green-eyed man was seething, face red in a fiery rage, while you stood gelid. Jon was Superboy? No way… Right? But he did just fly down from his roof, so clearly he wasn’t lying. Your brain couldn’t quite compute what was happening, and Jon took this opportunity to stare Damian down, implying that he too should reveal his identity. The more of them you knew, the higher the danger. But if Damian asked for Jon’s intentions, he would claim a moral obligation to not lie-by-omission to his friends.

Damian did end up fessing up as well about his secret identity as Robin and you were thrown for yet another loop. You might’ve been the type to get angry that they didn’t tell you sooner, offended that they clearly didn’t trust you enough. Or you could be the type to ask questions, interested in their secret life. You could also be a sceptic, not so much doubting if they were telling the truth, Jon floating a head’s-width off the ground pretty much proved that part, but rather interrogating them on why they felt the need to tell you and why now.

Whichever reaction you had, you would be driven home that evening by Damian, in silence. He didn’t feel the need to explain why he wasn’t planning on revealing that he was Robin to you, rather, he was afraid of your safety being jeopardised if Jon wasn’t careful… Jon wasn’t planning to be.

It would be less than a week after that Jon sought you out as Superboy, maybe he tackled you into a hug while you were walking the streets, or he’d float into your university cafeteria with lunch, freshly made by Grandma Martha… Really, he was not subtle and Damian could’ve ripped his throat out the first time Jon pulled one of his stunts.

When Batman caught wind of Superboy being openly linked to a civilian, he first went to Clark, who shrugged Bruce’s criticism of Jon off. “So what! I’m open with my affections towards Lois as well!” Bruce would correctly point out that that’s why Lois was constantly getting kidnapped, tied up and having various other misdeeds done to her. Clark would tell Bruce to get off his case, but in true Bruce fashion, he’d refuse. “Y/n is in Gotham, that is my city. Whatever happens to them is my problem, either they move to the larger Metropolis area and become your responsibility or Superboy will have to stop his mindless chasing of them.”

Armed with Batman’s orders, Jon divulged to you that you’re no longer safe in Gotham and that Batman wanted you out. That was quite a verdict, even more so since you were not a native Gothamite. You might have felt inclined to cry or even just felt frustrated, but Jon was there with another offer, “Why don’t you move to Metropolis university! They have comparable programs and you can live with my family for free!”

… It’s not that you wanted to accept Jon’s offer, but what other choice did you have. You questioned Damian about his opinion and he agreed that it’d be safer for you in Metropolis, no matter how much it pained him to see you go. With your friend’s verdict, there really was no other option than moving. Bruce and Damian might’ve helped you transfer to Metropolis University, not only were they well respected in all academic circles, but they were also paying the costs, calling it a charity case, they might’ve even used it to write off some taxes. 

With the finalisation of your moving process, Jon finally had you in his claws. That’s when he pulled out the fact that he was your soulmate. He practically shoved his arm in your face one morning, demanding that you love him. Tears were on full display, tumbling down his round cheeks when you didn’t immediately respond. “Why won’t you love me?! I’ve done so much for you!”... Ah yes! Emotional manipulation at its finest.

If you already knew that you were soulmates, but simply ignored it… Oh boy… Jon was livid! How dare you?! After all this time of him pinning and loving you! You just discarded his emotional need for your affection like it was a shite beneath your boot! How selfish could you be?! He only had one soulmate, why would you try to deprive him of the experience of true love! He would be delirious, and somehow manage to convince himself that you had in fact loved him all along, but been unsure if he’d love you back… yes! That had to be it! He’d toss you into his bedroom and lock the door, you weren’t getting out until you accepted his love… By “accepting his love”, he obviously meant, “agree to marry him”. Yeah, if you had just ignored you guys’ soulmate status, the rest of your life will be a living h*ll.

On the other hand, if you didn’t know or had been unsure whether or not it truly was him. He’d be understanding, that’s what happens! The most important thing was that you’re together now! You’d love him forever, right? That was all that ever mattered! It was your duty as soulmates, after all, to love and cherish the other one for years to come! If you don’t accept your love, may I refer you to the previous section, however, if you do accept it, he’d kiss you, deeply, and offer to fly you around Metropolis? Don’t worry if you’re afraid of heights, he’d hold onto you and never let go.

Whether you love him or not, it would be best to at least pretend to do so. Jon is sensitive and he doesn’t take well to rejection. His emotions are volatile and what might’ve earned you a plunging pouty face one day, might result in you getting locked in his room on another one. He’d get married as fast as possible, mostly to ensure that no one else would attempt to get with you… especially Damian. He’s jealous, and as soon as you’re both done with university, he’d beg you to stay at home at the farm and just wait until he gets home, you don’t even have to clean or cook, he’ll do that if you don’t want to, just stay home, that’s where you’re the safest, especially when Clark and Lois retire. Jon would love for you four to all live together, that way he’s extra sure that you’ll be safe.

So in conclusion… Jon as a yandere in a soulmate setting? Absolutely a health hazard. He’s horrifying, suffocating, delirious, clingy, emotional and worst of all: Absolutely. Bloody. Obsessed. He will never let you leave him, and if you’re willing and able to, he’ll make sure that you’ll have at least one biological kid, if not he’ll adopt one, with or without your permission. Just because he values family above all others. (In his mind, you were part of his family the second your name stapled its way up his arm). Clark and Lois would also aid in the absolute suffocation of obsessive love and almost worshipping of your very being which Jon participates in. Their love is like tar, you’ll slowly get dragged under and suffocated, no matter how much you try to get out. Their devotion, (and arms), stick to you like the viscous black droplets of tarmac, and you’ll have no escape. Not even Damian could drag you out once you’re submerged.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it! I'm SO sorry that it took so long to get out! But I've been dealing with a bunch of exams and important papers, (to all the IB students out there...IAs! Am I right?!)... No, but in all seriousness, I'm not dead nor did I quit writing, but I have my finals in less than 3 months, and I need to study, so I can't promise that my upload schedule will be particularly consistent or frequent in that period of time, but I'll be back up and running as soon as those bloody exams are over... Wish me luck! Anyways! I hope you like this!

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 [𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader [Modern!AU]

SUMMARY — Violet and Eloise spend time together by giving back to their community. Reader and Violet celebrate some unexpected news.

WORD COUNT — 5.3K

WARNINGS — drinking

NOTE — And chapter 8 is finally here! Just a small note, with school starting for me again, I'm going to change the posting days to Saturday so that I can get them out on time (hopefully!)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑽𝑰𝑰𝑰: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬

“Mum!”

Violet almost winced at the loud voice, but no matter how old Eloise was, she could always count on her second daughter to yell for her from across the room. 

It had been a while since she had seen her daughter in person, and she was happy they could catch up in a meaningful space. 

“Eloise, oh, I missed you my darling,” she pulled her daughter in, both hands on her cheeks to kiss her forehead and the twenty four year old squirmed under her mother’s touch. 

“Mum,” she whined. 

“Oh stop it,” Violet shushed her. “Come and visit me more, and maybe I won’t be as dramatic.”

“Is that a promise?” Eloise asked. 

“Not at all, I’m your mother,” she teased. “Alright, tell me where we’re working today.”

Eloise smiled, clapping her hands together before linking her arm with her mother’s and leading her in the proper direction. 

“You and I are going to be talking to sixteen and seventeen year old girls about scholarships and educational opportunities,” she explained. “You talk about the money, I talk about the opportunities.”

“Seems straightforward enough,” she nodded. “This is different, you often have me doing homework help with the younger ones.”

“While that is true, I thought you might enjoy something a little more sophisticated,” she shrugged and Violet smiled.

“You missed me.”

Eloise looked particularly unfazed. 

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Violet chuckled and kissed her daughter’s cheek before they entered the classroom together, where a group of girls were waiting for them. 

“Eloise, you brought someone with you today,” one of them, who was sitting cross-legged on her desk, noted. 

“Yes, guys this is my mum,” she introduced. 

“Hi, Eloise’s mum,” they waved and Violet laughed.

“You can call me Violet,” she told them. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

They smiled while Eloise went to the front desk,pulled out some papers and pamphlets, and had one of the girls help her to hand them out. 

“Are you really Eloise’s mum?” one of the girls asked. “You look so young.”

“Unsure if I should be offended by that,” Eloise nudged her, and she chuckled. 

“No, Jill’s right, there’s no way,” another chimed in. 

“I can assure you, I am actually her mother,” Violet nodded her head, coming to join Eloise at the front. “I have the birth video to prove it.”

“Ew,” Eloise scrunched her nose. 

“We were one and done with those, yours was enough to explain the rest of them,” Violet chuckled and pinched her cheek. 

“Okay, enough about my birth video, although I should have expected this kind of conversation after bringing my mum in,” she remarked. “Let’s talk about school.”

There was a bit of a groan among the crowd, and Violet looked over to Eloise to see how she would handle the lack of enthusiasm. 

“Not the school you’re in now, I mean university, trade school, vocational school,” she listed. 

They seemed a little more interested in that, but it still wasn’t the most popular topic of conversation. 

In a perfect world, school should have been accessible to everyone, but the reality was that it often wasn’t, and for those that were told they couldn’t afford to go to any post-secondary education, they weren’t given the tools to properly apply for funding. 

Eloise seemed to know this as the reality for the girls in her group, which was part of the reason why she had brought Violet in the first place. She knew her mother had plenty of experience navigating the world of tuition and scholarships through the work that she and Anthony did together, and it made sense to have someone with her expertise help guide these young women on that path. 

Once Violet began to share a bit, they seemed a little more engaged. Probably just because it was a new voice, and they’d become a little too comfortable with Eloise, which she kept telling herself was a good thing, even if it meant she got teased relentlessly. 

They walked through the step by step process to apply for schools and entrance scholarships along with how different institutions handled their bursaries before Eloise took over and started to explain the different routes and options people could take in their schooling. 

“Violet, did you go to university?” a girl named Priya asked. 

“I did actually,” she nodded. “But my story is a little complicated.” 

“How so?” Tilly added.

Violet and Eloise leaned against the edge of the teacher’s desk while Violet gathered her thoughts to share. 

“Well, my husband and I, we got married quite young,” she said. “I was actually just a little older than you are now.” 

They looked astonished at that notion, but nevertheless she continued. 

“And I thought at the time the thing that felt the most right and made the most sense for me was to stay at home especially after I became pregnant with Eloise’s older brother Anthony, but my husband encouraged me to study something, and we would find a way to make things work between us. So, naturally, I picked business because that’s what he was doing and I didn’t really know what I was interested in, but it was not a particularly easy decision. For some people, everything came so easily, but it took me a while to understand a lot of the concepts that were being taught, and I absolutely hated accounting. However, I quickly came to realize that just because things didn’t come as quickly to me, didn’t mean I couldn’t do them. I just had to work harder than others and so I did, I tried my best, both my husband and I did, and by the end of our schooling we had two young children, and I decided I wanted to stay at home with them.” 

Eloise noticed how engaged the girls had become and made a mental note that perhaps having guests to come and speak about their experiences was a good way to tie in what they were learning about into real life situations. 

“That decision was what I thought was best for me at the time and I don’t regret making it,” Violet continued. “It allowed me to be with my children during those crazy and important times in their lives and I enjoyed it. I know it’s not for everyone, but it was right for me.” 

“So did you ever end up using your business degree?” another girl named Emily spoke. 

“I did, but it wasn’t until much later,” she said. “After my husband passed away, I decided to go back to school and get a Master’s degree while also taking over all of the work that he had been doing before he died, and I’ve been using my degree ever since.” 

“Do you enjoy what you do?” Jill asked. 

Violet looked over at Eloise and nodded her head. 

“Especially when it allows me to come and do things like this with my children. Eloise has always been passionate about education and making sure women everywhere have access to it, and I am more than willing to support and encourage that drive.” 

Everyone seemed happy with Violet’s answers, including Eloise, and she expressed to her as much as they were leaving the school where the program happened after everything had wrapped up. 

When they reached the car, Eloise leaned into the side of the vehicle, looking at her mother. 

“Why don’t you ever let me drive?” she asked. 

“Because you drive like you have a death wish,” Violet said while unlocking the door. “I love you, but you really shouldn’t have passed your driver’s test.” 

Eloise rolled her eyes and got into the passenger’s seat. 

“Then at least stop somewhere for coffee, I just finished my summer course exams, and I’m still recovering,” she sighed. 

“Why don’t you wait until we get home, I can make you a cup of tea.” 

“Mum, tea stopped working a long time ago, and you hate coffee, just please take me to a cafe,” she turned her head against her headrest, and Violet sighed. 

“Fine.”

That was one thing they definitely wouldn’t see eye to eye on.

After her coffee was acquired, Eloise was in a much cheerier mood, and Violet asked her about some of the things she was learning about in her program, which Eloise gladly spoke about until they reached home. 

When they entered the house, there were sounds coming from the TV room, and Violet assumed Hyacinth or Gregory were watching something to pass the time. 

“Why don’t you go see what your siblings are up to, I’m going to hop in the shower then we can visit more, hmm?” 

Eloise nodded, and they quickly exchanged kisses on the cheek before parting ways. 

Violet was more than happy to get underneath the warm water in the shower, feeling the need to be clean and refreshed after a long few days, only having the sound of the water hitting the floor of the shower filling the room.

That wasn’t to say she couldn’t hear the faint chatter coming from downstairs, or Gregory in his room playing video games with his friends, but she elected to ignore them and focus on how the tension in her muscles disappeared under the water. 

When she stepped out of the shower, she grabbed a towel that was hanging on a nearby hook to wrap around herself, and before she could figure out what clothes she was going to wear, a sweet scent filled her nostrils, and her attention was diverted. 

The sweet smell, which she could have sworn were brownies, reminded her of her empty stomach and feeling the hunger overpower her need to be in dry clothes, she walked out of the washroom, hair still dripping, and made her way downstairs in her towel to see if the brownies were ready to eat. 

When she came into the kitchen, she noticed the baked goods on a tray, partially served, and she knew it wouldn’t hurt if she stole a piece. 

She cut out a square and picked it up from the pan, a small hum escaping her lips as she realized it was still warm before turning around to go back upstairs and seeing you standing with your eyes wide open at the entrance to the kitchen. 

“Christ! What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, a hand going to her chest to calm her racing heart. 

You were having a hard time finding words to respond to her. Your eyes were transfixed on the water glistening against her freckled, sun-kissed skin, how the droplets seemed to connect dots as they rolled from her thighs down her legs. 

Her hair was dripping wet and slightly pushed back at the scalp before falling around her shoulders in waves, her lashes full, dark, and wet against steel blue eyes. 

And the towel, oh, the towel was almost cruel. How it covered just enough to keep your mind going and veering off in places it really shouldn’t have been, especially when the woman in front of you was your boss. 

But still, it didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers across her shoulder, down her arm, hooking your fingers around the fabric of the towel and pulling it down and leaving her completely bare and dripping in front of you. 

You heard her say your name once more, and you realized your mouth was slightly agape, so you closed it and cleared your throat. 

“I-um-Hyacinth-she-” you were a bumbling mess and no matter how hard you tried to avert your gaze, your eyes stayed completely and totally on her. 

“Damn, Mum,” Eloise came waltzing into the kitchen behind you. “Couldn’t even wait until you were dressed?” she teased, and it seemed that was when it clued in for Violet that she was, in fact, quite exposed. 

You didn’t think you’d ever seen her face go that red and she quickly swatted Eloise’s hand away as she playfully tugged at the damp towel, clearly only trying to get a rise out of her mother. 

“I-I’m going to go get changed,” she shook her head and ran out of the kitchen, brushing past you before making her way up the stairs, an extra hand tugging the back bottom portion of the towel down so she didn’t expose herself further on the way up. 

Around ten minutes later, Violet came back downstairs and made her way into the kitchen again to procure the brownie she never got to eat before heading to the TV room where you, Eloise, Hyacinth, and now Gregory were all sitting on the couch, scrolling through options of something to watch.

“Mum, hi!” Hyacinth grinned. 

“Dearest,” she smiled and took the only empty seat which was next to you on the couch. “I’m guessing Hyacinth called you?” 

You were having a hard time looking her in the eye and instead settled on nodding your head. 

“Her exact words were that she would rather jump off a cliff than spend time alone with Gregory, which I thought was a little dramatic, but it seemed the feeling was quite mutual.” 

Violet looked over and noticed how you didn’t turn to her when you were talking like you usually did and then her mind drifted back to the kitchen, and she could feel her cheeks heat up once more at the mere thought.

“Well um, I suppose I should thank you for making sure that I remain a mother of eight instead of six,” she attempted to joke, but it came out much flatter than she had wanted. 

“So, do you guys do this often?” Eloise asked. “I feel like all the fun stuff’s happened since I left.” 

“Well, I am here quite often for work,” you told her. “And sometimes it just happens.” 

“Like ice cream with Franny,” Hyacinth said. 

“You don’t have to mention that every chance you get,” Gregory replied. “I get it, I should have come with you guys.” 

“Now what fun would that be,” Hyacinth grinned and leaned back into the couch. “Why don’t we watch Blended?” 

“Absolutely not,” Gregory took the remote. “I am not watching another Adam Sandler rom com.” 

“Gregory, what do you want to watch?” you asked. 

He sighed and thought for a moment while continuing to scroll through options. 

“I don’t know, just not a rom com,” he said. 

“Wait, I have a solution,” Eloise said, and everyone listened up. “Mum and Hyacinth like romance, I like books, you like Colin Firth,” she pointed to Gregory. “And I’m note sure how you would fit into all this, do any of those sound appealing?” Eloise asked you. 

“All three actually,” you nodded. “Loved Colin in The King’s Speech.” 

“There we have it, the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice,” Eloise grinned. 

Surprisingly, everyone seemed content with the choice and Gregory went to find what service it was available on. 

“Oh no need, Greg, I bought it ages ago, just go into the purchased TV shows,” Eloise explained to her little brother. 

“You do realize this is a six hour commitment,” Hyacinth said, looking at the episodes. 

“Oh, we can’t sit and just watch the telly for six hours,” Violet shook her head. “We’ll just have to get together again and finish it in chunks.” 

“Party pooper,” Eloise grumbled, sipping her coffee, and Violet leaned over you to pinch her cheek. 

“Come on Violet, it’s your day off, you sure you can’t spare it?” you finally looked over at her. 

She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but the thought of sitting next to you for that length of time did seem appealing. 

“And if we start it now it’ll still be a decent hour out,” you said.

She looked at you and her three kids who all had pleading looks on their faces, even Gregory, who wasn’t particularly fond of romantic movies and TV shows, seemed to be invested in finishing the story in one go.

“Gregory, you really want to do this?” she asked. 

“I like Austen,” he nodded his head. “Lizzie and Mr. Darcy remind me of Kate and Anthony.” 

Eloise almost spat out her coffee.

“Okay now I’m not sure I want to watch this anymore,” she joked, and Hyacinth nudged her. 

“Shut up, El. Just play it,” she urged, and Violet sighed with a chuckle, clearly she was now definitely required to commit. 

“I hope you know my hair is going to frizz because of this,” she looked over at the rest of you sitting on the couch, touching her still damp hair. 

“Don’t worry, Mum. You’ll look like an 80s babe, it’ll be great,” Eloise assured her. 

You chuckled a little at Eloise’s comment and imagined Violet with her wavy hair poofy and slightly untamed, much different than her usually straightened or perfectly loose curled hair. 

It was a rather distracting thought and consumed your mind for a large portion of the beginning of the episode. It was good you were familiar with the storyline already. 

You felt comfortable enough to curl a little further into the couch, taking some of the blanket Hyacinth had thrown across the couch. You offered some of the blanket to Violet, and given how little was left she was practically pressed against you to get under it. 

It was remarkable how your body could feel as though it was burning even when you weren’t even remotely close to being hot. Simply Violet’s touch, her arm against yours, and you felt as though you were on fire. 

By the time you had reached the end of the second episode, you finally gathered the courage to look over at Violet, seeing that her hair had, in fact, gained some volume and only a slight outline of the wet waves that used to frame her face remained. 

“It’s bad isn’t it,” Violet said softly as the end credits came up. 

“Hmm?” 

“My hair, it’s a mess,” she tried to gather it into a ponytail to hide it, but your hand instinctively went up to move hers away. 

“It’s fine, Violet,” you assured her. 

She was unconvinced, but something in your eyes made her listen to you anyway, but not without a bit of protest first. 

“Does it look nice, or is it just fine, because those are two different-”

“You look beautiful,” you interrupted her. The admission was so quiet the Bridgerton children sitting next to you didn’t catch it over the sound of the opening theme.

Violet had been expecting some half-hearted response about how it didn’t matter, and she was simply going to stay at home for the rest of the day and could fix it later, but instead, was met with striking sincerity. 

She tried to play this off and smiled gingerly, tucking her hair behind her ears and focusing again on the TV screen. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hey, does anyone want popcorn? Or snacks?” Eloise asked, looking at both ends of the couch, redirecting your attention.

“I could go for some snacks,” you nodded. “Let me give you a hand.” 

Both you and Eloise untangled yourselves from under the blanket and headed into the kitchen, leaving Violet with the two younger siblings. 

“So you seem pretty chill,” Eloise noted while pulling out the popcorn kernels from the cupboard. “Why on earth do you hang out with my family?” 

You chuckled a little while plating some of the brownies and shrugged your shoulders. 

“Your mum would call it an occupational hazard,” you told her. “I don’t think she realizes I just enjoy spending time with you all.” 

“God, I don’t know what could ever compel you to do that,” Eloise shook her head and you rolled your eyes. 

“I don’t know, Eloise, have you spent much time around your family recently?” you asked. “In my experience, they’re quite kind and welcoming.” 

“I suppose so, but they’re also incredibly annoying,” Eloise remarked. “Have you met Colin yet? He’s the worst of the lot.” 

“I have not met Colin, but something tells me you’re only saying that because he is engaged to your best friend,” you teased her. “Don’t worry, I would find him annoying if he was my brother.” 

“At least we can agree on one thing,” Eloise sighed, heating up the pot and some oil on the stove. “But in all honesty, you’ve probably gathered enough from  Mum that we don't really have a lot of close friends. A lot of people we see out of obligation or out of duty, but only a really small handful we spend time with just to enjoy ourselves. Her especially, the rest of us branched out a bit, but she was close to Dad and Agatha and, well, that was it.” 

You listened to her intently while grabbing some more food to bring with you from the pantry. 

“She likes you, I can tell,” Eloise smiled. “And it’s good for her to have more friends, I think, anyway. She needs to let loose, get that bloody stick from out of her behind,” she waved her arm about dramatically. “She won’t listen to us, but she might listen to you.” 

You pressed your lips together and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Eloise.” 

And lo and behold, her advice came in handy much sooner than you expected.

—

Violet didn’t think she would ever get used to when the house was completely silent, but she supposed she would have to soon enough with both Gregory and Hyacinth approaching that age where they would be looking to start their own lives. This was just a taste of what was to come. 

She was walking past the foyer of the house when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She picked it up and saw your name flash across the screen. Violet frowned curiously and accepted the call, placing the phone against her ear. 

“Hello?”

“Violet?” your voice seemed exuberant for the late hour. “Can you hear me alright?”

“I can hear you fine, what’s going on?” she asked. 

“Check the news,” you replied simply. 

“What?”

“I’m almost at your door, just hang up and check the news,” you said, and Violet was even more confused. 

She listened to your instructions, hung up the phone and went to the news application, scrolling through a few of the top suggested headlines for her until her eyes fell on what you were referring to. 

BREAKING: Landon Norris Retracts Statement About Lady Violet Bridgerton

A hand went to cover her mouth on instinct as she heard the door open behind her. She turned around and saw you standing there with a wide smile on your face, but she was still processing the information. 

He had actually retracted his statement. This was the best case scenario. 

“Oh my God,” she looked at you, astonished, as you came close to her, shutting the door behind you. “Oh my God.”

What came next was natural; Violet wrapped her arms around your neck, and you wrapped yours around her waist and you pulled each other into a tight embrace, disbelieving chuckles escaping both your lips. 

This wasn’t to say that everything was over, but surely it made things easier. 

“Did you come all the way here for this?” Violet asked with a laugh, pulling away from you for a moment. 

“I was in the area,” you shrugged. “Violet, this is huge, we need to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” she looked at you skeptically. “It’s past ten, how do you plan on celebrating?” 

“Champagne, obviously,” you pointed to the bag you’d left at the door, “Don’t worry, it’s chilled.” 

Violet bit her bottom lip and shook her head. Hyacinth was staying with Daphne for the weekend and Gregory was at a friend’s place, perhaps it was alright for her to indulge, just this once. 

“I’ll get the flutes,” she nodded, and you grinned and clapped your hands together, getting the bottles and moving to join her in the kitchen where you started. 

You knew Violet was partial to a glass of wine here and there, which is why you figured a bottle of champagne between the two of you wouldn’t amount to much. 

Violet drank the first glass so fast she began to hiccup before her second, which turned into a third as you migrated towards their more informal living room. 

“Oh, bollocks,” she looked at the bottle, seeing it was empty, trying to pour the last few drops into her glass. 

“You want more?” you looked at her, noting her rosy cheeks in the dim light. Barely any time had passed since you’d opened the bottle and you were quite surprised to see you’d finished it between the two of you. You hadn’t quite had enough to be more than tipsy, but you thought maybe Violet’s tolerance was not necessarily as high as you had anticipated. 

“It’s too quiet,” she shook her head, ignoring your question, disappointed with the atmosphere of the space. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“How do you want to celebrate?” you repeated her question from earlier, putting your glass down on the coffee table. 

She stole it from you and walked over to the stereo, sipping at whatever champagne you’d leftover, fiddling with the buttons until the loud sound of the radio echoed through the room. You both winced before she turned it a little lower, changing the channel until it landed on a throwback station. 

“Fuck, I love this song!” she grinned. 

“Oh my God, Violet,” your eyes grew wide as you chuckled, never having heard the very polite and refined woman swear, even in the intense circumstances you’d encountered together over the past few months. 

“I’m British, I think it’s a felony if I don’t like this song,” she informed you.

She downed the rest of what was in your glass and came up towards you, poking you roughly in the shoulder. 

“You’re not celebrating right.” 

“Oh really?” you chuckled. 

“Yes, really,” she insisted, frowning at the fact that you weren’t agreeing with her. “We should be doing something.” 

Violet came even closer to you, first placing her hands on your shoulders before resting her arms across them, your bodies mere inches apart. 

“Don’t you think so?” 

“I think you’re drunk,” you said, and she shook her head. 

“No, no, no, I’m perfectly fine,” she attempted to assure you, but remained unconvincing as a hiccup escaped past her lips. 

“Violet, you’re drunk,” and the reality of the situation dawned on you. “God, I got my boss drunk,” you whispered to yourself. 

Feeling a need to rectify the situation, you told her you’d be a moment and stepped closer to the exit of the room and pulled out your phone, looking through your contacts for a number and calling it. 

You listened as the phone rang, not paying attention as Violet quietly left the room when the line connected. 

“Mate, it’s almost midnight,” Benedict’s voice rang through the speaker. 

“Who are you, a grandma?” you asked him with a scoff. 

“Are you drunk?” he said, hearing the slight slur of your words. “And you could have said grandpa.” 

“No, grandma,” you insisted while Violet came back into the room, again, not that you were paying any attention. “And I’m not drunk, I’m just a little tipsy.” 

“And you called because…” he urged you to continue. 

“See, I called you because your mum is drunk,” you sucked in some air through your teeth. 

“You got Mum drunk?” he laughed, clearly amused at the notion. “Very bold move.” 

“Oh shut up, we were celebrating,” you rolled your eyes. “Now, how do I make it stop?” 

“What is she doing right now?” Benedict asked, and you finally turned back into the room, noticing Violet had procured a bottle of wine and was now pouring some into the champagne flute and drinking as she danced quietly to the music, simple movements of her feet, hips swaying along. 

“Uhh, she got into some more wine and is dancing…I think?” 

“Yeah, good luck,” he smacked his lips together, and your eyes went wide. 

“What do you mean, good luck?” you asked. “Benedict, I got my boss drunk! I got your mum drunk!” 

“Christ, relax,” he laughed. “At this point, there’s no going back, just…enjoy yourself.” 

“So, your solution is for me to get drunk?” you confirmed. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded. “I left a vodka soda in the back of the fridge, help yourself. Now, I am going to bed.” 

Before you could protest, Benedict hung up, and you pressed your lips together before shoving your phone in your pocket, attempting to decide what you would do. 

Before long, you said screw it and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge until you found the vodka soda Benedict told you about, cracking it open and doing your best to chug its contents. 

When you returned to the living room, the music still blaring, you walked up to Violet and stole the champagne flute out of her hand and began drinking the wine from it. 

“Hey!” she exclaimed, but began giggling when she saw you downing the wine. 

“Payback,” you poked her shoulder and she took your hands, pulling you closer. 

“You ready to celebrate?” she asked. 

“If, by celebrate, you mean dance, then yes, I am most definitely ready,” you nodded your head, the alcohol slowly making its way into your system, lowering your inhibitions as it had already done for Violet. Clearly, it was less bad if both you and your boss were drunk than if only she was, that made logical sense, right?

You were a little shocked when her hands went to your hips, pulling you flush against her. Your faces were so close you could feel her breath on you, the scent of wine and champagne mingling and emanating from you both. 

Your hips travelled together in smooth, rhythmic movements, and your eyes closed, focused on the warmth you felt from having her against you, or perhaps it came from your own body, slowly crawling and travelling to every extremity. 

You let your arms wrap around her neck lazily, one hand even daring to tangle itself in Violet’s hair. 

It was so easy to lose yourself in the music, or it was, until you could feel Violet’s breath against your ear.

“You look pretty when you dance,” she murmured and you could feel her nose press against your temple and then, suddenly, that was all you could think about. 

The song eventually faded out into the background, and Violet pulled away slightly. Her face was red and whether it was from the alcohol, the dancing, or the close proximity, you couldn’t tell. 

She seemed a little embarrassed, quickly using your shoulder to hide her face, her grip on your hips still strong. 

“You alright, Vi?” you chuckled. 

“No, I never dance.”

The hum and vibration of her voice against your neck was enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“Really?” Your voice came out a little more strangled than you had anticipated. “I have a hard time believing that.” 

A very hard time, with the way she moved against you, there was no way. 

“Believe it,” she insisted. 

“Well, if it’s only for lack of a dance partner…” your voice trailed off, and Violet looked back up at you, the beginning of a giggle escaping her lips. 

“You would dance with me again?” she asked. 

“Only if you paid,” you teased. “For tax purposes, of course.” 

She laughed at your joke, unable to control herself even though it wasn't that funny, using you for support to stay upright. 

“God, Violet you’re so pissed,” you laughed while holding her up. 

“Am…not,” she tried to insist, but her overwhelming joyfulness said otherwise. 

“Is this how you wanted to celebrate?” you asked her, trying to get her to look up at you, but it took her a moment, her balance compromised and using you as a human pillar, her arms now comfortably wrapped around your waist. 

“Definitely,” she nodded. “What were we celebrating, again?” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, the sound bubbling up from your throat and causing your chest to rumble while warm tears streamed from your eyes without much control. 

“Oh Violet,” you sighed after finally calming yourself down. “Never change.” 

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya @philocalistwrites @mako-mermaids2021 @oh-mydarling @courtneyteal @amethyst-bitch @etherynn @lilisdarling @fictionalized-lesbian

[causenessus]

binary stars

part 0.05. intros. GROUP COUNSELING HOURS

NOW FEATURING...

THE STAR AND HER PLANETS ‧₊˚✩彡

y/n l/n .°˖✧

manager of the seijoh volleyball team after she quit playing in secondary school to focus on her studies and because she did not appreciate the radioactive energy of the girls' volleyball team. grew up alongside tooru and hajime due to proximity and their shared love for volleyball. now co-parents the boys’ volleyball team alongside hajime as she tries to convince herself that what she feels for tooru is just platonic </3 - her private is where she gets a little silly or tries to cope w her feelings - tooru used to be on it but after he accidentally leaked a photo she had posted on it, he lost his privilege (in his defense he thought she looked stunning and didn't see the point of sharing it with only like, 7 people but it was over for him) - currently allowed to see her private: seijoh 4 minus tooru and her group featured below <3

FEATURING...

kiyoko shimizu & sugawara koushi .°˖✧

shimizu

karasuno’s volleyball manager. shimizu first met y/n when they were both starting out as managers in their first years. they bonded during that time together, taking notes during a match together and then exchanging numbers to keep in contact. suga came a little later but ever since then, the three have been close friends. if y/n co-parents seijoh’s volleyball team with hajime, shimizu and suga co-parent y/n. shoyo noticed how much they cared for y/n and wanted to be apart of the family too <3

suga

setter, pinch server, and karasuno's vice captain. he’s not even entirely sure how exactly he and shimizu became co-parents for y/n. he definitely gets multiple evil stares burning into the back of his skull from karasuno’s third years + tanaka and noya but he wouldn’t give up his bond with either managers for anything. along with kiyoko, they give y/n advice on everything she’s going through and are always there to support her <3

FEATURING...

kuroo tetsuro & hinata shoyo .°˖✧

kuroo

captain of nekoma’s volleyball team which is currently manager-less </3 as a result, since they're close to seijoh, if they really need a manager, y/n helps out if she can. over time, she grew closer to kuroo who also hung around with tooru a lot. kuroo views her as a little sister which is why he works along iwa as a double spy ❤️ is also besties with bokuto who has somehow been looped into this trip (he’s not complaining)

shoyo

aspiring ace !! karasuno’s tiny giant <3 wing spiker, and 50% of the weirdo duo. like bokuto, was lowkey looped into whatever this solar system is but he’s also not complaining. he kinda let himself in because he was upset that he was left out whenever shimizu and suga started talking. then, in his first match with seijoh, he realized who they were always talking about. he introduced himself when he saw suga and shimizu talking with y/n who immediately adopted him - also means that he does not get added to the gc until after karasuno's first practice match w/ seijoh </3

not featured:

iwaizumi hajime </3

a price he must pay as a double spy along with kuroo. haji’s known tooru and y/n since forever so it’s to be expected that he hears both sides but he can’t be in two places at once. he was glad when kuroo entered the picture because he could be sent to take care of y/n while haji sat through tooru’s woes. the two then share information and scheme, just like kiyoko and suga. the four sometimes all share ideas and worst comes to worst, makki and mattsun also join. haji also sees y/n as a little sister and would give her anything (snacks from a vending machine or gas station) <3

full picture sugawara's using to make fun of shoyo bc everything hates me </3

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