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ham1lton · 5 months ago

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DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME ?

summary: assistant yn takes to instagram to answer some questions from her followers!

pairings: mentions of lando/reader, lewis/reader, max/reader, charles/reader, jude/reader and oscar/reader.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who sent in questions! i can’t thank you all individually, but genuinely i want to say i appreciated your asks!!! this series has only gone on as long as it has due to everyone’s interest and contributions ! <3

— part of the dream girl universe!

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (5K WATCHING)

(the camera turns to show yn, smiling as she balances the phone against the bathroom mirror as she attempts to finish doing her hair as she faces the camera. she hums along with the song in background which is anticipating by britney spears.)

YN: hello my darlings!! i promised i’d do a ig live once i reached five million followers and here i am!

user1: HI QUEEN

user3: are you at lewis’ house?

YN: no, i’m actually at my own apartment. i do have my own apartment. i don’t live with lewis? you do know that right? it’s important to me that you know this.

user4: coulda fooled us.

user2: this song is a BOP!

user5: thought u were couch surfing.

YN: anyways, i’m gonna answer some questions.

user6: if you had to describe your aesthetic in 3 words, how would you describe it?

YN: hmmmm…. i’d like to say fun, loud and sexy. i like bright colours. my dream comparison is to the hot older sisters from those 2000s movies. y’know? love graphic tees but also form fitting dresses. best part of having a athlete as a boss is that i always get to use his home gym to work out! and i get tips from his nutritionist and personal trainer all the time.

user7: is that the best part of your job?

YN: um… obviously roscoe is the best part of my job. we’re besties. lewis hates it. you know those trends were the family stand next to each other and wait for the kid to choose who’s arms to run into? we did that with roscoe and he chose me. i don’t think lewis has gotten over the betrayal.

user8: it only happened once though right?

user9: maybe it was a fluke?

YN: he said that so we did it five times… and he chose me every time. i really can’t help it that everyone loves me!

user8: yn, what is your type in a guy?

YN: it’s so specific but it’s also not specific at all? like i’ll need to feel out vibes and chemistry before i can say yes or no? but generally i like guys who make me laugh, i feel comfortable around and who smell good. also a cute smile is a big bonus.

user2: i need your thoughts on the new f1 movie and the season so far!!

YN: lewis winning his home race was just pure perfection. he’s the GOAT. i don’t care what you twitter warriors have to say. also charles winning his home race was very emotional for me. that’s all i’ll say. lando’s race win was so much fun cause we were in the club for hours afterwards. the film is a bit much but i keep seeing damson idris everytime i walk onto the paddock and that’s a treat. he’s so fine.

user6: hey yn where and how do i bag a man like charles?? i need a play by play …. i want princess treatment too😩😩

YN: babe i’ve been asking the same thing but lewis forbade me from taking roscoe out on walks to entice rich monegasque men. it’s very upsetting to me. i’ll text charles about your proposal, maybe he’ll accept?!

landonorris: HI YN 👋🏼

YN: hi lando! we still on for tonight?

landonorris: always 😁

user10: what’s happening tonight??

landoynnie: MY TIME TO SHINE 😁😁😁

landonorris: i love britney spears too!

user9: landonorris name five britney songs GO!

landonorris: slave 4 u, toxic, hit me baby one more time, anticipating (cause yn always plays it in the car) and deep in my heart.

YN: i do love anticipating. this is my pump up and get ready song!

landoynnie: WAIT…. U AND LANDO SHARE THE SAME CAR?????? U GUYS R MARRIED REALLY

user10: landoynnie ur delusional

YN: my normal apartment is close to lando’s, so he gives me a lift sometimes. no biggie.

lewishamilton: next time i’ll order you an uber yn.

landonorris: it’s better this way lewishamilton, good for the environment 😁

lewishamilton: 🙄

user11: yn, what does your daily routine look like?

YN: wake up, get breakfast. i usually make my way over to lewis’ if i’m not already there. i feed roscoe, take him out for his business if you get my drift. play with him, triple check lewis’ schedule and then lewis will meet me at around seven. he eats, then he goes for a run or a workout. i don’t join him so i sort through emails and boring paperwork. a lot of my job is basically just emails and paperwork. then i go with lewis to whatever events he has that day, do a bunch of behind the scenes work and then i come back. i eat dinner with him most days, and then i go home and sleep!

user12: sounds boring.

user13: sound sexy omg. i would DIE to be around lewis all day.

YN (laughing): it is boring! it’s a job.

user13: what are your fav tasks to do for lewis?

YN: i get to drive his cars sometimes. he has a bad habit of forgetting things so i’m the one who jumps in the car and goes back and gets it. i love doing that. the drives are so smooth and i get to blast my playlist but i always blast my playlists.

user14: do u listen to xnda’s feature?

user15: i listen to ur playlists all the time btw!

YN: pookies, i listen to xnda’s songs all the time. i get access to his unreleased stuff. i’m there when he records it sometimes.

user14: IM SO JEALOUS

user16: THAT SHOULD BE ME 😒😒😔

user17: pookie they are saying youre fucking that bald guy for diamonds, bags and trips is it true??? please say it isn’t 😭😭

YN: WHAT BALD GUY?

user18: THE WAY U DIDNT EVEN DENY IT???

YN: i have never slept with anyone for diamonds or bags or trips. i work! i have a good salary and a great boss. you can check my bank account honestly.

user19: is ur type bald men?

YN: god no! shout out to the baldies though.

user20: LMFAOOOOOO

user4: yn, i heard you were interviewed quite a few times for this season of drive to survive. can you give us a little spoiler? what was it about?

YN: omg who’s leaking this info…. but yes! i was! a lot of it was just about lewis obviously but who doesn’t love hearing new info about thee sir lewis hamilton? i don’t think i can tell you anything more than that. i’m scared i’ll get sued or that netflix have a sniper trained on me and will shoot me before i finish the sentence.

user4: thank you for what you did tell us!

user21: what is the most unexpected song u and lewis have sang at karaoke

YN: well, lewis is a better singer than me. so i like to do the rap parts but he’s also a better rapper than me. so i do like the adlibs. but we did umbrella the other day! that was fun. i usually do karaoke with lando because we both get so drunk it’s fun. also he can’t sing at all. so it makes me feel better.

user22: what do you and lando sing?

YN: we did high school musical the other day! i was troy.

user23: HELSOSO

user24: lando: oh is this necklace ‘Y’ for yn? 😃

user16: if lando is gabrielle… who’s sharpay and stealing yn from lando….

user19: obvi oscar.

user25: i miss landoyn’s drunk ig stories.

user21: speaking of music, yn how did you feel when jessica left snsd 😔

YN: i remember exactly where i was. same thing when zayn left one direction. they both affected me personally. worst day ever. she was my bias too…. my comfort bad bitch….

user12: ZAYN LEAVING 1D OH GOD

user13: i remember that…. my school was in shambles!!!

user7: SHOUT OUT JESSICA GIRLIES … we all suffered together 😔

oscarpiastri: hi yn. what’s this.

YN: hello oscar piastri. this is my instagram live. do you have a question for me?

oscarpiastri: yes. what are you doing later?

user21: OOOP

user12: oscaryn comes up to clinch the title of couple goals.

lewisynnie: say ur busy yn <3

landoynnie: why is he asking out his teammate’s gf??

charlesynnie: landoynnie maybe because they’re not dating and you’re delusional?

landoynnie: charlesynnie says the CHARLESYN STAN ACCOUNT !!!

judeynnie: the way all of you are delusional. did you see yn like the jude tiktok edit? that’s her man.

lewisynnie: judeynnie A FLUKE! a mistake. maybe she just liked the beat. it means nothing.

maxynnie: well. this is a lot. hmm.

oscarynnie: SAY YES YN!!!! OSCARYN ENDGAME PLEASE GOD!!!!

YN: i am free this evening. what do you have planned?

oscarpiastri: i’ll text you, see you later yn!

oscarynnie: WE WON WE WONW EON WE WON

lewisynnie: oscarynnie who cares.

landoynnie: literally like… 😹

user21: YOU’RE ALL DELUSIONAL HOW ABOUT THAT !

END INSTAGRAM LIVE. (123K WATCHING)

— dream girl series taglist: @flowergirl1134 @laur20a23 @greantii @rafebun @sumlovesjude @papayadays

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi

#jayde’s works ☆#dream girl universe シ #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #formula one smau #formula one imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula 1 x you

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glitterjay · 5 months ago

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do u write poly? cuz since i saw this (https://x.com/baekwoniee/status/1804722513248710738?t=llnKbmNUddMJtFrYH9MFoQ&s=19) i can't stop thinking about being sandwiched between them lolol

can it be a lil suggestive? ☝🏼👁

link!

⭒ poly relationship, bf!jayke, short, suggestive content implied at the end, minors dni

⭒ c's note: i dont mind writing threesomes or ploy relationships, but i cant promise you whatever comes out will be good...

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @fertilizedtoesw

being loved by two handsome men at the very same time was thee life. having jay's act of services around and jake's playful and fun personality was the perfect combo and perfect balance.

today's case was having a movie date at home, where you'd watch movies all day with your two boyfriends and enjoy their presence. as jay got some food ready, you and jake tried to set up the living room for the occasion. blankets and pillows where getting tossed on the couch to create a "big nest" as jake called it.

once you were done, you both cuddled up next to each other waiting for jay so you could start your movie marathon. you had settled on watching the marvel series as they were pretty long and they would take some time to go through.

"jay, dude, hurry up! we'll start without you."

"im here, im here. why did i settle up with the most impatient people in the whole world..." he joked, leaving the food he brought from the kitchen in the coffee table.

"because you love us!" you said, scooting closer to jake's side to leave some space for jay. "come here, lets cuddle while we watch."

two hours had passed already, and you could tell both men were starting to get bored. jake was starting to yawn very often, and jay was busy scrolling through his phone, ignoring the movie. an idea popped in your head and it was time to start working.

you huffed at jay to get his attention, jake not paying much attention to his surrounding, and you took the phone from his hands. "i thought we were watching a movie, not our phones! get off of it." he chuckled and nodded in defeat, but you were not done just yet. you took his hand and placed it on your thigh, using the excuse that he couldnt move it away or else he's grab his phone again.

to him it was just an innocent way to get him to actually watch the movie, but you knew he'd start moving his hand up and down sometime soon. he always did.

now you turned your attention to jake, who had one arm wrapped around your waist, so you were basically stuck to his side. he was already making direct contact with you, less work to do.

you simply faked a yawn and grabbed the arm that was loosely resting on your hip, bringing it up to rest under your shirt on your tummy. now you had them where you wanted them. you where almost squished between them, having them make direct contact with your body that would soon tempt them into doing more.

"why dont we make our own movie?"

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #kpop #kpop smut #hard hours #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen x reader

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autisticjoshrusso · 20 days ago

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ok ok ok. a post about josh, buck, and maddie at dispatch as promised. (and because i dont feel like writing a whole separate post or repeating myself etc, if im pointing something out as evidence for my autistic josh headcanon, it'll be in parenthesis like this) also this is long because im going basically line by line in some places so just be prepared for that and such.

the first thing i wanna say before anything else is that like... as far as how this conversation fits into the larger narrative, i was fairly disappointed, due to the way that including this scene like this is kinda implying that the racism was fine because of being closeted etc. HOWEVER. luckily for my sanity it is pretty clear that from a character perspective, that's not at all what's being said by josh himself here, and we can be pretty certain that he is not aware of tommy's past behaviors. in fact he has almost no facts or context about the situation, which i'll get into later.

now that the disclaimer is out of the way, im gonna move onto character analysis and will not be touching on what i think the narrative might have meant etc. any further. like this is going to be purely talking about character dynamics and dissecting the dialogue etc.

we start out right away by skipping all the exposition right into a hard cut of maddie reacting to the news that tommy and abby were engaged. LOVE this set up we get right into the important part quickly and we as the audience only have to hear information that is new to us, not the information being repeated back to the character for whom the information is new.

and oh maddie. i love you so bad. she's like DAMN thats crazy, and then makes the obvious turning people gay joke. her energy here is sooo like it didn't make sense until looking at it in retrospect, but she's shocked and invested yet not taking it very seriously as a concern for buck, because well, she's having a baby and this is objectively not that serious comparatively <3 but i do love that she sees buck's reaction and quickly reins it in and is like woah im kidding im not actually being homophobic holy smokes. which. it kinda still is a little. but i think she's allowed <3

and then... josh enters the scene. he apparently only walked in as buck was saying "-kissed a boy" so of course he had to be like huh? gay shit? something gay? boys?? what's going on over here? and i love that for him. and i love that maddie immediately is like oh hi bestie i catch u up to speed on the tea <3 the maddiejosh bestieism is so back we never lose <3 and that fact that she's like. feeding in the facts in a way to dramatically amp up the tale i love it. she really said man the things my baby brother gets himself caught up in are wild.... anyway <3 true sibling behavior is finding the perfect balance between being supportive and being so so annoying <3

and she is supportive still. like when it becomes clear that there's something deeper going on here she does try to help him work through it. and its so interesting to me the way she is sort of seriously contemplating his words and is shocked when josh not only speaks up but is being very serious and equally focused on the problem at hand. it's like... she's trying so hard to figure out how to help her brother with something she doesn't fully understand that having someone else speak up to help them kind of shocks her and boy does that say something about their lives and the buckley sibling dynamic!

side note, the way josh is jokingly like "she didn't bring her personal life to work, unlike SOME people" and maddie's little look of mock offense?? they're so cute i cant handle it.

i also really love how the shots are framed during this conversation. at first, even when she's not talking and is just listening to josh talk, maddie is still in frame, we're still getting her reaction, she's an active participant in what's going on. and then there is the one shot where she's talking and josh is out of frame, hidden by buck, because whatever reaction he might be having isn't important, it's a buckley sibling moment. (he's not an active participant at that point; he's entirely observing and reacting and gathering information, not dictating the direction of the conversation whatsoever.)

it's only when josh gets very serious and it starts to turn into a heart to heart moment just between him and buck that maddie is allowed to leave the frame. it still goes back to her in very brief cuts when her reaction is relevant, but she steps back out of focus and let's josh handle the conversation. and i love that so much. thank GOD someone else is helping buck sort out his problems that isn't his parentified sister or just generally someone more marginalized than him. it was kind of getting irritating to watch, as much as i love buck so much. like dude... the emotional labor. watch it.

and man. this conversation guys. everything about it makes me an insane crazy person. ive already mentioned this in the tags of some other posts but like... its so fascinating because on the surface it is such a cohesive conversation, but when you really break it down and analyze both of their expressions and body language alongside what they're saying, you can start to see the cracks in it. what one of them is saying is not what the other one is hearing, in both directions. they are having two different conversations and i think it's critical to analyze both of those conversations and how they are interacting with each other. what josh says, what josh hears, what buck says, and what buck hears are four entirely separate things happening alongside each other.

the first part is josh trying to get a sense for how serious this relationship is to buck. when buck falters at the question of "do you love him?", he elaborates with follow-up questions that, to josh, define "love" or close enough to it. answering "yes" to those questions is close enough to a "yes" to the question of "do you love him?".

(which. ok. the particular choice of questions makes me insane because they do essentially boil down to "do you prefer this person to solitude and grant them an equal or greater importance to yourself?" which is sooo... it's said from the point of view of someone who greatly values their solitude and would not easily grant someone that level of importance.)

unfortunately, well, buck is NOT someone who greatly values his solitude, and puts other people before himself quite easily. buck would answer "yes" to those questions for basically anyone. josh does not know or understand this about buck and takes buck's answers at face value, while buck is taking this as sort of... it's hard to explain, and i think others have done a better job of capturing buck's perspective already tbh. he's convincing himself that he loves tommy here because josh is unknowingly handing him that information and expectation, and buck loves to mold himself to fit an expectation etc.

and then comes the second part, which... i think this is where it is most critical to realize that josh has none of the context about tommy, abby, and buck and those respective relationships. by his own admission, he didn't really know much about abby or about her breakup with tommy beyond the fact that it was upsetting. he didn't hear the way tommy talked about abby to buck at dinner, and he definitely didn't get to see any of the real fallout and damage to her psyche that tommy leaving her caused.

but buck did! im not inclined to rewatch s1 to get any exact quotes or anything but from what i remember, she either outright said or implied that she was so heartbroken because tommy left her because of her mother's illness. buck is understandably very upset because he understands exactly what she went through and how, unless abby was lying to not out him, he didn't exactly come clean with the breakup, and left her feeling like it was her fault, like there was something wrong with her or she was being weighed down by caring for her mother. he calls tommy's behavior exactly what it is: dishonest and cruel.

but josh doesn't know this. all he is hearing is a young, freshly out bisexual calling a gay man "dishonest and cruel" for having been engaged to a woman for his own protection. and he responds exactly how you'd expect! he reminds him of queer history and the fact that he doesn't really have a right to judge the people who grew up and had to survive in a world that was much less safe to come out in.

(and i said in my other post that's still doing numbers that "pre-Glee/post-Glee" is an actual queer discourse talking point and makes sense that it'd be used here, as awkward and cheesy as it seems, but it's also a win for my television/film/popular media/hollywood culture/etc. as a special interest headcanon. <3 we love to see it)

and it kills me because of course buck is just going to take this at face value and decide he needs to stop feeling the discomfort he's feeling, leading to the subsequent doubling down and over committing that is typical of his unhealthy relationship patterns.

(and then at the end of the speech josh has to literally announce that he's leaving DSJFHJKDSKJ. because walking away/ending conversations is so awkward and difficult and the easiest way to mitigate that is to lean into the Dramatic Homosexual Stereotype mask or whatever <3 i've long been of the opinion that josh is someone who uses the behaviors associated with queer men and queer masculinity as the blueprint for his neurotypical mask, which is why he often comes across as being just a little bit off from the Funny and Bitchy Gay vibes that it seems like he's going for. and boy did his exit from this scene just reinforce that headcanon so hard!)

they wrap the scene with a little bit more levity too which is kind of nice to like. move on from that. because it got kind of heavy there for a second.

overall i do like what this scene accomplished, but like i said at the start, i think it has some really unfortunate implications that weigh it down for me. still, always nice to get more josh content, especially when it's pretty consistent with his character as established AND not at all related to doing his job. we got to see him and maddie being goofy and maddie being allowed to let someone else deal with buck's problems for a second. and the whole thing was very well shot! excellent camera work going on throughout.

i don't actually know how to end this post so yknow. im gonna make a dramatic exit now or whatever <3

#my posts #911 spoilers #911 meta #911 abc #911 season 8 #911 season 8 spoilers #josh russo #maddie han #evan buck buckley #long post #media analysis #dispatch #anti bucktommy #i didnt go into bucks pov too much bc ive already seen a lot of good meta about that so i didnt feel i had much to add to the conversation #there were no serious meta/analysis breakdowns about josh's pov coming across my dash yet though so of course yall have to deal with mine <

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onepiece-polls · 1 year ago

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One Piece Shipping War - Round 2 Side D

MiShanks art by @oz-gauze. Check out the original post here.

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Iceburg x Paulie:

"I find the 'IcePaulie' ship in the "One Piece" fandom particularly compelling, and there are several reasons for this. Firstly, the two characters involved, Iceburg and Paulie, are wonderfully complex and engaging. Iceburg, as the mayor of Water 7 and president of Galley-La Company, is a serious, highly respected figure whose calm and composed demeanor grounds the duo. On the other hand, Paulie, one of the company's top foremen, is known for his strict moral code and boisterous nature, which provides a perfect contrast to Iceburg's character. What I appreciate most about the 'IcePaulie' ship is the potential for dynamic interactions and growth that arise from these contrasting personalities. The calm, collected Iceburg and the more hot-blooded Paulie provide a balanced character interaction, which can lead to interesting conflicts or heartwarming moments of mutual understanding and respect. Moreover, their shared commitment to their work within the Galley-La Company serves as a common ground that bonds them together, further enriching their relationship. In conclusion, the 'IcePaulie' ship, to me, is about more than just a potential romantic or platonic relationship. It's about the exploration of two distinct characters, their individual quirks, values, and the unique dynamic that forms between them. This interplay of personalities and the potential narrative arc their relationship could follow are what make the 'IcePaulie' ship truly captivating to me."

It's one of my fav ship not including the big 5 so 👉👈 It's really damn adorable and romantic, like just paulie being extremely overprotective and iceburg just loving him more everytime. And how they deal with the others shenanigans (that they love)

Propaganda for Shanks x Mihawk:

They had a massive battle at one point, when mihawk showed up on that island where shanks was relaxing shanks convinced him to get drunk with him very easily, also in the war of the best mihawk just flat out said he refused to fight shanks

Goth swordsmith & Golden retriever

Two of the most badass characters in the whole series, cat/dog energy, the fact that Mihawk specifically sought Shanks out to show him Luffy's bounty??, also Mihawk leaving the fight because he didn't sign up to fight Shanks??, I love two middle aged man who are somehow friends AND MAYBE MORE lmao

They’re so funny to me. Like seriously goth Mihawk and happy chaotic Shanks. I just think they could be so good together

Rivals to lovers -- Powerhouses -- Introvert and extrovert -- Mihawk wears red and has black hair while Shanks wears black and has red hair like ✨Color schemes✨ -- SAME BIRTHDAY YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME THEY DON'T CELEBRATE IT TOGETHER

They are rivals. They are besties. They are so friggin gay for each other. It's DILF love.

what if we were both swordsmen but you lost your arm to save the future king of the pirates so i have remained SOOO bitter about it but then find out the kid u saved has a promising swordsman so im less bitter so i go drink with you and you force me to ditch my wine for booze but it works because you care about me despite my solitary life so we remained long distance bfs and think about each other constantly. is that something

Mihawk being a recluse but going out of his way to visit his bf regularly is proof enough

#one piece #icepaulie #mishanks #akataka #op shipping war #tournament poll #round 2 #side D

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blainesebastian · 1 year ago

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accidents happen (ccg universe)

words: 1,797 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “Luci gets seriously injured? Like to the point where she needs to go to a hospital for stitches. austin is just the cutest and most protective dad” warnings: stitches, hospital related things notes: slightly edited so that ccg and austin are cute and concerned but *u* hope you enjoy! tag list: @killerqueenfan, @austinbutlermischief , @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

There are moments where you know that neither you nor Austin will be perfect parents. You know you’re going to mess up, constantly, but that’s the only way you’re going to learn how to be the best versions of yourselves. The important part is that you’re figuring it out together, learning a balance, and being kind to one another as you take one step at a time.

Although sometimes, that’s also easier said than done.

“What do you mean you’re at the hospital?”

There are so many thoughts instantly rushing through your head that you feel like you might need to pull over, suddenly lightheaded. You attempt to make sense of one sentence, of your husband calling to tell you that he’s at the hospital as you drive home from work. Hundreds of conflicting emotions, a roaring sounding like the ocean in your ears—you take in a deep breath, try to connect the dots.

Austin is calling, so he’s fine. He’s at not in the hospital—you feel like that’s a distinction you need to make, no idea if it even makes sense. But then your next thought nearly grabs you by the throat.

Austin takes in a short breath through his nose and you can tell he might be pacing. All you know is that it feels like it’s taking him forever to respond and you’re already making sharp right hand turns in traffic to head towards the hospital.

“It’s all okay, I promise—just take a deep breath.”

And god, you know he’s trying to be comforting right now, calming, but you have no idea what’s going on and the word ‘hospital’ is spinning in your brain like a stuck washing machine.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Austin,” You grit through your teeth, trying not to snap at him. “Tell me what happened.”

And that’s when you learn that Luci was jumping on the couch as Austin made lunch and tripped on a pillow, sending herself into the coffee table.

Hearing that is nearly enough to send you off the road. Oxygen rattles in your lungs and squeeze the steering wheel, hanging up the call to concentrate on getting there in one piece. You barely park the car once you turn, hoping that autopilot takes over as you jump out so you can lock the car and grab your purse.

You rush into the emergency room so fast that you feel dizzy, taking a gulp of air into your chest and your ears are ringing and you’re distantly aware that you might pass out. You push through, walking right up to the desk and hoping to get out the words you need—

“Y/N.”

Turning, you see Austin walking out of a curtained room labeled 4 and he reaches for you. “She’s okay,” He says instantly and you almost want to collapse in relief. Your knees actually buckle as you get towards the curtain and see Luci just past it, lying in a cot as the doctor does stitches.

Austin firmly grabs onto your forearms, supporting you, helping you remain upright, “S’okay.” He whispers, drawing a hand down your back as you allow yourself to lean forward and into him. “I knew I probably shouldn’t call you but…I didn’t want to text and I didn’t want you to go home to an empty house.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing over that acidy taste of palpable fear in your throat. You give yourself a few moments to breathe, to absorb Austin’s touch, to assure yourself that Luci is fine.

Austin walks with you back inside the curtain, tugging it closed a bit. Luci looks over, eyes bright and scared with tears, “Daddeee.”

“Right here, baby.” Austin says gently, grabbing a chair for you to sit in. Which is good because the moment he lets you go; you feel your legs go out from under you. White-black dots fill your vision and you have to steel yourself so you don’t faint.

“You must be mom.” The doctor says with a soft smile. “You got a little warrior here.”

You hum lightly, can’t manage words just yet. Luci looks like she has a few cuts and bruises on her face and arms and the doctor is sewing up a nasty looking gash near her shoulder. Austin stands beside you, closest to Luci’s head, reaching out to brush fingers through her hair.

“You’re doin’ so good sweetheart, just keep still, okay?” He murmurs soothingly, leaning down to brush a kiss to Luci’s forehead.

And like a good husband, he knows to reach over and touch you as well, a firm hand up and down your back and along your shoulders as the doctor starts talking again.

“Despite this looking scary, she’s actually pretty lucky. We took an x-ray, no broken bones, no concussion, she seems to have hit the corner of the coffee table with her shoulder. Just a few stitches and she’ll be brand new.”

It’s one of those instances where it feels like the parents are more upset than the child. Luci’s definitely been crying and you can’t imagine what it was like for Austin to pick her up and take her to the emergency room. All alone with your Luci, your baby, crying and bleeding. The morphine is obviously helping and so is the fact that Luci has never been afraid of going to the doctor, of getting shots, always been super inquisitive and brave.

Pain though is another animal.

“She’ll just need to come back and get the sutures removed in ten to fourteen days,” The doctor continues, “You can give her children’s Tylenol for the pain.”

You let out a breath, glad that you’re feeling a bit steadier and less like you’re going to pass out or throw up. Standing from the chair, you run a hand through your hair, “I uh, I��m gonna check my car really quick. I don’t even think I locked it when I got here.” Or…parked in a space, either. Last thing you want is to get towed. “I’ll be right back.”

You squeeze Luci’s ankle on the way out, searching through your purse for your car keys and…jesus, did you leave them in your car?

“Y/N.” You turn a bit as Austin gently grasps your elbow, stopping you right as you make it outside.

In the bright light of the day, you can see how frazzled he is. Despite that calm and collected exterior he’s putting on for Luci, what’s happened has really rattled him. God, of course it has. You came into the hospital an utter wreck, you can’t even imagine if it’d been the other way around and you had to get Luci here.

“I’m sorry,” He says after a moment and your eyebrows draw together in confusion because…why is he apologizing? You take in a breath, stepping towards him because,

“Austin, this isn’t your fault.” Reaching out, you take one of his hands.

He swallows thickly, nodding, can’t quite look at you as those bright blue eyes that remind you of Luci’s shine over with unshed tears. God, you suddenly feel terrible because on top of all these feelings he’s had over what happened, you were snappy and short with him on the phone. Scared, of course, but…the last thing you want is for Austin to somehow feel even worse than he already does.

He sighs, frustrated, squeezing your hand, “I looked away for a minute, you know?”

You quickly shake your head, stepping up on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders. You draw Austin into a hug, squeezing him, feeling him relax under your touch. His head tips forward, rests on your shoulder, breathing you in as you’ve done with him so many times before.

“Not your fault,” You repeat, firm but comforting, “Could have just as easily happened to me if you were at work, okay?”

You stand there for a few moments, squeezing him before taking a step back. Giving him a soft smile, you cup his cheek and kiss his other one, “No use in blaming yourself. That’s not gonna do anything but make you feel worse, and Luci will know—she’s wickedly perceptive.”

Austin smiles a little, nodding, tipping his head down a bit into your touch. He kisses the palm of your hand before you draw back.

“Go back in there with her, I’ll be right there.”

Separating, you check your car (finding your keys in your back pocket) and see that you actually locked it, even got it into a space alright. Kind of crazy what autopilot can do. Smoothing your hands through your hair and allowing yourself a deep breath, you tip your head back before walking back into the emergency room.

Tugging the curtain aside on 4, you smile a little as you see Austin sitting in bed, Luci repositioned on his one leg. She’s got her face buried in his shoulder, small whimpers leaving her lips as the doctor finishes up.

“Look, he’s got different colored band-aids Luc.”

Luci turns her head just a little, glancing at the colors as you sit back down in the chair closest to Austin’s knee.

“Which color do you like?” The doctor asks and Luci picks neon green—seems fitting for her, especially with her interest in all the dinosaurs.

You squeeze Austin’s knee as the doctor peels the band-aid and puts it on top of Luci’s stitches, standing from his stool and tugging his gloves off to toss away. “Should be able to take her home—I’ll get the discharge papers.”

“Thanks doc,” Austin replies, watching as he heads out of the room.

Once he’s gone, you move from the chair to the other side of the bed, crawling into it and leaning your back against the pillow. With Austin on the other side, Luci settles between your bodies. You smooth some of her hair back, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Look at you,” You smile softly, smoothing your thumb over her cheek, “Such a big girl. You were so brave today.”

Luci looks up at you with bright, tired eyes. You know that the when the morphine wears off, it’s going to be a bit of a struggle but…one step at a time right? Important thing is—your little family is safe and healthy.

“Daddeee brave too?” She asks and a warm laugh slips out of your chest.

Austin shakes his head even though he’s smiling and you nod, before he can say anything. “Yeah,” You agree, gently tapping her nose with your finger. “Daddy too.”

Inching a bit closer, you press a kiss to Austin’s shoulder, closing your eyes. In that moment, you allow yourself to feel relieved. Far from perfect parents but trying, and really that’s all that matters.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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zuzusexytiems · 1 year ago

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what other jp fics would u recommend? (aside from ooml of course wink wink)

Hello, hello! thank you for sending this (and sorry for getting back to it so late 😭🙏) I've recommended some of these at the end of OOML 11, but I've been wanting to make a version for the tumblr crowd so here you go! 😊<3

Please note that there are still a lot of Jeanpiku fics that I have yet to read yet tho, so this list is very limited 😭🙏🏽 But hopefully I get to add more in the future. 🥰

Anyway!

All but the brightest stars by astralcrow

Absolutely obsessed with this fic. It's a Jeanpiku college AU where Jean and Pieck start off a little rocky, but find they have more in common than they'd initially thought. It's got everything: angst, comedy, drama, playful banter—all of it written in a perfect balance.

The author, Crow, also writes in a way where you can perfectly envision everything that's happening; the characterization, setting, and pacing are rich and vivid without being too overwhelming, and I would honestly say that this fic is an actual piece of literature in its own right. It's also fully finished so you don't need to worry about updates! (Unlike OOML sdjkbhuysd SORRY usdihsdu)

Not-So-Adorable Home by yanniyogurt

Another all-time favorite! NSAH hasn't updated in a while, but it's definitely still worth the read. Jean and Pieck have a bit of a history in this fic: they were childhood friends and had a falling out, and meet each other again when they're older, when Jean—without realizing it—moves into the apartment next to Pieck's.

Yany's writing is brilliant and engaging—the kind where you immediately get hooked in and forget that you're even reading at all. If you end up getting into NSAH, please show her some love! Your encouragement in AO3 comments helps us authors a lot more than you know 🥹 <3

and then the sea swept in by @anarkvli

This is the first Jeanpiku fic I ever fell in love with. Jean and Pieck both have very troubled pasts (to say the least), and are dealing with their own personal demons when they meet. Filled with angst, mystery, and rich imagery, this fic is very much worth the read as well. Say hi to Rae for me in the comments! <3

All of @sparklekitteh's Jeanpiku fics on AO3

Jules is one of my dearest friends, and she also happens to be wonderful writer! Her works are sweet and special, and each one will leave you smiling when you're done. If you need a good dose of serotonin, I highly recommend her stuff!

bakedpotatocat's Jeanpiku Week 2022 fic collection

Saying that I loved every single one of these fics is an understatement. I've mentioned it at the end of OOML 11, too, but this collection truly is the epitome of hidden gems within the Jeanpiku fandom. I don't even know where and how to begin; please just read it. I promise you won't regret it. 🥹🙏🏼

save your love (for someone like me) by kosms

I'm not usually into arranged marriage AUs, but hooo boy, this was good. This fic has either been deleted from AO3, or the author has changed handles—I was only fortunate enough to download it to my reader while it was still up, but it was brilliantly written, and although it only had one chapter, I thoroughly enjoyed it. If anyone who's reading this has the updated link to it, please let me know, as I would love to continue reading! If you're the author of the fic and you'd like me to remove it from the list, though, please also let me know! Your comfort comes first.

@0venmit's Jeanpiku fics on AO3

I've always enjoyed 0venm1tt's writing; one of my personal favorites is Bear With Me, but I've decided to go ahead and recommend everything anyway because 1.) I really enjoy their writing style, and 2.) I still have some of them on my to-read list—leaving this here as a little reminder to myself to get back to it! <3 Oven, if you're reading this, thanks for sharing your work with us; I know it's been a while, but I hope you're doing well!

Everything Has Changed by @elmundodeflor

Flor is a very good friend of mine and one of the best people I know; she also happens to be a brilliant writer, as well! This piece is her first Jeanpiku fic, but her prose is exquisite. Please give it a shot! If you're into Levihan, Flor primarily writes for this ship as well—her AO3 is a treasure trove for LH enthusiasts. <3 Love you, bestie!

A special mention to All Things Go: Chicago no Kyojin by @opelemmescootpastya

Yet another fic I still have in my to-read list, but I want to mention it anyway bc I've heard a lot of good things about it, so I want to pass it on to you guys 💜 The author, Em, is also super sweet and supportive and has made a lot of contributions to the JP fandom herself! Some of the chapters also have accompanying art that I'm sure you guys are going to love—I know I did. 🥹💜

Em also has some published one shots that are definitely worth the read! My personal favorite the Jeanpikuween one, which you can find in her AO3. Fun, quirky, and had me smiling all the way 🥹 Please also send Em some love if you can; she definitely deserves it!

Anyway, I *think* that's it! I really hope I didn't miss anything 😭🙏🏼 Again, there are still a lot of JP fics I haven't read yet (I'm very slow to read in general, my apologies 😭), so this definitely isn't all of it

If you have any recommendations, please feel free to reblog this and add some; you can also send some in my inbox (even if it's yours and would like me to read)! I can't promise to get back to it right away, but I will very happily add them to my reading list and recommend them to other JP's, too 🥰

Happy reading, everyone! 💜🐴🛒✨

#jeanpiku #jeanpiku fic #jeanpiku fic rec

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dustedmagazine · 1 year ago

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Overmono — Good Lies (XL)

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On a more objective, scientific, world-perpetuating level, you can of course understand why pollen is good: Insects and birds and animals take it and transport it and pollinate other flowers or eat it for sustenance and maintain the delicate balance that is our circle of life. You also know it can directly benefit you via dietary supplements and medicines for everything from PMS to an enlarged prostate. But on a more immediate, visceral, emotional level: It’s not good when it’s everywhere, infesting your clothes, wrecking your allergies, blanketing you and turning the world to a hazardous haze of yellow. It’s irritating, in fact.

Overmono’s debut album Good Lies is pollen. I don’t just mean that figuratively; “Cold Blooded” literally appears on Spotify’s Pollen playlist, an anodyne compilation of assorted tracks that fit a certain history-washing aesthetic and work great functionally as Urban Outfitters background music fit to pass any 20-something’s vibe check. But even without the playlist, you can see the parallel, hear the connection, feel the album title’s perfection in your gut: This is a record that promises so much but delivers, upon repeated listens, so little as to be a strangely vacant experience.

It’s not like you couldn’t see it coming if you were paying any attention, though. Russell brothers Ed (aka Tessela) and Tom (Truss) have been veering steadily away from their engaging, more demanding early productions on crucial labels like Perc Trax, Poly Kicks, R&S and Whities (now AD 93) toward a kind of hands-aloft big room festival sound that’s been smoothed over and played out live to the point that they only need hit the button that plays Tirzah’s vocal from “Gladly” over the “Is U” beat to get crowds going wild. From personal experience, I can tell you a big room goes off when the drop in “So U Kno” happens. People lose their minds. It should feel monumental, and there’s no shortage of people out there that’ll be only too happy to tell you how transcendent it feels.

That it doesn’t isn’t strictly a problem with yours truly reporting from the field; it’s also indicative of the listening experience Good Lies presents, which feels like a less creatively ambitious, more sonically conservative rendition of Water the Planets. That concise 25-minute mix from late 2016, when the duo was still trying to figure their big room sound out, remains one of the best arguments for why Overmono was so great for years: You’d get a stretch of rhythms that had you invariably nodding your head along to gently evolving and mutating melodies that could get stuck in your head for days after the fact. Think of the muscular “Powder Dry” or the Nintendo pop of “Catapult” or the song that made me a believer, the simple and soaring “U-Plastics.”

Little such surprises exist here, and that’s not because followers of the group had already heard half the tracks present before the full-length appeared. Even St. Panther, the only official collaborator on the album, has her vocals pitched into a homogenous blur at a deliberate emotional remove, submerged behind percolating synths and carefully programmed percussion. From Slowthai to Smerz to Miraa May to Kelly Erez to Casisdead, the template of “evocative” vocal snippets floating disconnectedly above the music is established immediately, a death grip maintained that suffocates out the creative spark that could’ve been here instead. Of that gaggle of tracks, “Calling Out” does the best in a vacuum, a massive track that stands out even in the context of the album and one that’d be immediately noticeable in any DJ’s set.

Only “Vermonly” really feels like it breaks free from the shackles of the established template here. A drumless drift late in the tracklist that feels like a breath of fresh air for its reliance on the army of synths Overmono relies upon rather than the cheap gesture of yet another sampled vocal feels novel in context. It’s a brief moment of respite from the relentless yet strangely underwhelming monotony of the rest of the record. Naturally, first-week sales were through the roof and it’s evident the group has never been bigger; that such success should happen to these guys is ultimately good, probably, but that it should happen via a record so devoid of personality it automatically assumes the role of background music isn’t. It’s irritating, in fact.

#overmono #good lies #xl #patrick masterson #albumreview #dusted magazine #pollen #bromley

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ratherhavetheblues · 2 years ago

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Claire Denis’ STARS AT NOON: “I think maybe a big mistake…”

by James Clark 2023

At the conclusion of her brilliant career, filmmaker, Claire Denis, staged a couple of shocking films (far beyond her usual mayhem). The first entry, Both Sides of the Blade (2022), amounts to a protagonist-humanitarian, concluding that blacks in France are ruinous. The second film (with its second humanitarian), Stars at Noon (2022), chooses philosophy; but getting to the nub is a bugger; and a treasure. In fact, we must visit the precinct of Marcel Proust (1871-1922), in order to understand Denis’ venture, her disappointment and her glee. Proust and the landslide of advantage. His hopeless bid to break free from it. Finding in tiny moments what he meant.

It needs to be repeated. Despite great filming, these actions had moved toward philosophy. (Coming to the gut.) As such, Denis had dared to visit the turf of novelist Marcel Proust. From that vantage point, she would visit the old errors, so molten. Thereby, in the film, Both Sides of the Blade, we glimpse remarkably in intensity, hatred and lostness. Thereby, we reach out to our film today, Stars at Noon. The end of planet Earth.

Trish, the protagonist, is not what we need; however, she stands as a flowing horror. Could her fear stage a comeback? Otherwise, why would an American woman move to a place like Nicaragua, and its military nonsense. Her mission of humanitarian good is clearly bogus. Her long involvement in foolish danger is more to the point. (Recall, many years ago, Denis produced a TV show called, U. S. GO HOME.)

Irony helps. “No meat today. Sorry, miss.”

Hands appear. All it takes is a little concentration. Perhaps more than a little.

She is trying to get out money from a money machine.

The plague. Truly everywhere.

More fucking. “If you get more skinny, I don’t want you no more.”

He: “You’re not a journalist.”/ Trish: “Yes, I am.” (Wanting to be valid, but way over her head. And yet the sensibility beckons. She being, at a loss. Balance needed. Balance refused.)

There is no serious traction in this work.

Visual marvels. Wasted.

An Englishman, Daniel, is looking for something in the jungle. Trish stages a long and rocky interplay with him. But Daniel is a different equation.(He has the lack of a mouse.) One could say, he’s a perfect gentleman. But a perfect gentleman is not good enough.

Trish: “You have the good manners that eventually you get killed for. I can tell you my motives. I wanted to know the exact dimensions of hell.” (A stupid priority. Also stupid: “We’re all for sale.”)

Her silhouette. The two twists of them, covering a universe. “How can one be more than a disaster?” (Many fingers in the dark.) “You’re just a mist… only mist…” (Much more than that!)

Daniel: “I never really miss anybody… I feel I’m in danger of throwing my life away…”

Trish: “See how fast the tropics sap you?” (Now excuses, as you hope.)

Covid-19. It will be something else.

Trish: “And if you could just get me to Costa Rica, I promise you I’ll get my act together.” (Things aren’t as simple here as you hope… She becomes morose… Quickly, however, she puts out to Daniel a bogus threat, to get something going. The land of fakes. The land of shallows, oversimplified, flimsy, insubstantial, empty. “I can’t see a thing…” Daniel chuckles, as often done.

Trish marches like a soldier, but she doesn’t know what courage is.

Daniel thinks that there are people here with principles. Yes and no.

Trish: “I think maybe I’ve made a big mistake.”

No milk today.

Trish kisses an old man she knows. The old man is rich and powerful. She asks for money for Costa Rica. The answer was, “no.”

On the road, Daniel, driving to Costa Rica, with Trish. At the border: “We can just wait here for a moment.” Pan to the gringos of chaos.

Now the work becomes a dream of Trish’s best shot. Can surrealism do the trick? Find the best direction. Find a way to the cosmos itself. It’s available.

Our protagonist starts with a dark night and two cars parked closely. Each driver has been butchered. Planet Earth is not one of the better planets.

Finding something better. An enigma.

Trish in a jungle where Daniel has had a small accident. They come to a deserted house, by which to patch up Daniel. Neither of them notices that they are in a structure of brilliant and loving marble, wood and glass. A deep design. A deep artistry, on the walls. A deep heart. The presence of authority. Not for them.

Not for the millennials at the forefront here, by which to cover the steep bill. This last film of Denis’, in a blaze of dance. Sensibility, both tawdry and deft. And always a prisoner. (And yet simple love has its strengths; while it burns out, and leaves ashes.)

The black who haunts the treasure. How much does he know?

Trish demands, “Cover me up,” Trish demands. Cover me up. Cover me up. Cover me up. Cover me up.”

Many soldiers appear. The leader tells the protagonists, “I will practice my English with you.”/Daniel Tells the student-soldier, “You know, you work for despicable people.” Theatre of Absurd. And yet it can touch one’s heart.

#claire denis

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visceravalentines · 2 years ago

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okay so I adored this, obviously, because it's perfect. your ability to weave beautiful word tapestries depicting nasty gross sex acts is.......unmatched. literally literary pornography. the metaphor is his penis and your reader is my favorite reader ever. I promised u an essay response and here it is. next time it's gonna be that fic of a fic I keep talkin about bc you're just that good bby deadass real facts. so without further ado I present:

The Little Death: Sex as Self-Destruction

Meg // HOW 2005 // Professor Sam

The assertion that Bo Sinclair is a sexual deviant is hardly a new one. The same can be said for the notion that he routinely experiences bouts of suicidal ideation born of his past trauma and the bleak circumstances of his everyday life. However, the idea that these two impulses subconsciously converge within Reader as a physical vessel for the combination merits further discussion. Wrestling with the vestiges of survival instinct and haunted by the desire for a better existence, a better self, Bo cannot truly commit to ending his own life. He can, however, engage in a sort of unconscious abstinent death through his relationship with Reader wherein sex takes on the role of destruction, serving as a means of eschewing parental pressures and facilitating the loss of self he longs for.

In the piece "sawn off pump-action," Bo is balancing two disparate forces in his life: the eternal shadow of his parents, and the self-inflicted handicap of a hostage partner. He sets out to prove his independence from the oppression of his parents, particularly his father, by engaging in fellatio with Reader in Victor Sinclair's office. At the same time, he tries to maintain his absolute control over Reader by initiating the sexual act with his father's shotgun as an effigy. From the start, he is equating the thrill of sex with the risk of death and attempting to instill in Reader the same fear of dying that he feels himself. However, Reader has achieved a sense of peace with the idea of her own annihilation, and this baffles him to the point that "His mouth hangs open as he watches you take your death between your teeth, swallowing your lips around cold metal." He cannot conceptualize this level of acceptance, something he is constantly striving for without success. The inability to achieve satisfaction with his own life is what has brought him to this moment in this room in the first place. He is hellbent on proving to the memory of his parents that he has the right to survival despite the fact that "You can’t prove anything to ghosts, they’ll never listen."

When Reader is unfazed by the threat of a shell to the skull and the specter of death has proved irresistibly tantalizing, Bo moves on to the meat of the sexual act. He is using his father's weapon in his father's chair in his father's office, inflicting himself upon a woman wearing his mother's jewelry and using his mother's title, and this deep and abiding entanglement with his parents' legacy is what feeds the persistent sense of failure that brings him again and again to the point of self-destruction. By exchanging his genitals for his father's gun, he is clawing for that shred of self-actualization that swings just out of his reach.

The exchange of cock for gun also illustrates the way Bo conceives of sex: it is a taking, a stripping of identity and autonomy, the reduction of one from person to object. He is wrong, however, about who is being reduced. “You can’t hurt me, baby. You’re too soft," he says, but in this he is mistaken. Reader's softness is the blade he uses to slice himself open and relieve the hot and throbbing pressure of his ongoing existence. For a man who has experienced little besides violence and rejection, the tender acceptance Reader offers rips him open like the teeth of a combine. He knows this, feels it, but cannot articulate how or why this affection elicits such a response in himself. Even while Reader muses on the angle of the gun behind her head, she wonders about taking its place, unaware that she already has. Submitting to her ministrations represents surrender. Retreat. Expiration.

Reader points out that "Most of the time, the belonging doesn't seem to go both ways," save for the moment of completion, "when he's yours. He can't be anyone else's." The gun belongs to the man until the moment it shatters his skull and claims him as its own. In the same way, Reader is a weapon Bo aims at himself in the hopes she will claim and erase him. She is his placeholder, an escape from which he can escape. She is a defense against legacy, a sense of security in the knowledge he can cheat death on a whim. It is for this reason that no matter how much he might threaten, Bo will never carry out the ultimate act of violence against Reader unless and until he is prepared to commit this act against himself as well.

In sexual release, Bo achieves a semblance of the ultimate catharsis he is seeking. The labored breathing, arch of the spine, "him wheezing…cradled in your arms. That's what love is–watching someone die." The momentary ceasing-to-be of orgasm is what Bo chases, why he keeps Reader close like a holstered sidearm. Furthermore, to embark on this journey in his father's office, to temporarily annihilate himself only to emerge breathing and sated on the other side, represents a triumph over paternal condemnation. He dies and is reborn, a prodigal son who has surpassed the father. Even to spill his seed without intention flies in the face of fatherhood. He has came and conquered in the sanctuary, made the temple his bed and grave, and emerges from the tomb subject to his own will alone. The same cannot be said of Victor, whose death was real and irrevocable. In climax, Bo achieves multiple victory–over death, over fear, and over father.

Bo Sinclair craves life and death in near equal measure. Ever unsatisfied, always hollow with hunger, he finds himself facing the impossible problem of suffering through survival out of spite. Caught in this untenable position, his only hope of salvation can be found in the warmth of Reader's body. She is a guide and a gateway to the underworld and back, a means by which he may cheat death and dishonor the memory of his parents. As she says, "Love tastes like [sweat and gunpowder] too, sometimes." And sometimes, death tastes like spit and semen.

#am i insane??? yes #is this almost as long as the fic itself?? absolutely #can't wait to graduate w my degree in buffoonery from clown university #i hope headmaster sinclair signs my diploma with his own blood #in my defense i have a migraine and a hangover and i've been in airports for 28839483 hours today and this helped me feel productive...??#helped me feel smth that's for sure #bo sinclair #also why does this fic have like two rbs??? HELLO???? injustice. u all hate to see women succeed ig

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shuadotcom · 2 years ago

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Hate U | JHS (M)

→ Summary: Your relationship with Hoseok wasn’t that serious. It was just fun and casual until the realization that you’re catching feelings for him hits you hard. The only rational thing to do is to avoid him… that is until you can’t anymore.

→ Pairing: CEO!Hoseok x Female!Reader

→ Genre & AU: Angst, smut, pwp, friends w/benefits au, office au, ceo au

→ Rating: 18+ | R (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

→ Warnings: Profanity, weed, alcohol, dirty talk, spanking, fingering, squirting, oral (male receiving), cumshot, Sir!kink

→ Words: 5.2k

→ Note: Written for the Suits & Ties collab hosted by @sugakookitty! Songspo: I Hate U - SZA

Thank you to @yutasthetic for being a wonderful beta reader and to @sugakookitty for making this amazing banner!! Took me a few months to even get my brain working to write again but here she is in her angsty smutty glory!

“Hey, Y/n, are you coming out to grab dinner with us?” Victoria’s dark hair cascades over your computer screen as she leans over her cubicle wall into your space. Frowning, you shake your head.

“Nah, I have a very important meeting, remember?” You roll your eyes as you repeat the words your boss said to you during lunch. You, Victoria, and another co-worker were eating lunch in the cafeteria when Hoseok, in all his uber friendly, sunny CEO glory, found you and asked (see: demanded) you stay late for a critical meeting about a project you’re in charge of.

“Oh damn, that’s right. You’re going to the principal’s office,” Victoria teases. “Do you think he’ll tell you to scrap the whole project?”

“He better fucking not. I’ll quit if he does.” But, of course, you won’t, which Victoria knows, but not for the reason she thinks.

She makes another detention joke before promising to take a shot for you and saying goodbye. Your smile drops as you watch Victoria and a few other co-workers gather and head out of the office. A handful of others file out after a few minutes, and soon you’re all alone.

If you sit up and look directly across the room, you can see Hoseok’s closed office door. The light from within peers through the closed slots of the blinds, and you have to build yourself up to finally decide to head over.

Victoria and everyone else believe the words he said earlier about going over one of your projects but you know it’s a lie. You’ve been avoiding his calls and texts for a week and anytime he’d try and corner you in the office, you managed to dodge him, except for today.

Your knock on his door resonates through the silent space, causing you to flinch slightly. You try twice more before deciding to just go in, turning the cold knob with a deep breath.

Stepping into the warmly lit office, you immediately see Hoseok on the balcony of his office, the glass door shut as he leans against the rail. His cellphone is to his ear and when he spots you, he holds a finger up to you, indicating that he’ll be a minute as he continues to chat away on the phone.

Shutting and locking the door behind you, you make yourself comfortable on the cloth couch in the room, fidgeting as you watch him. His suit jacket is off, his white silk button-down and tie both loose on his body, billowing in the light breeze outside.

Hoseok plucks a lit joint from the ashtray balancing on the railing in front of him and takes a long drag. He holds the smoke in his chest as he makes a few nods of acknowledgment into the phone. He tilts his head back and blows perfect smoke rings up to the sky.

The sight is reminiscent of your ill-fated meeting with your boss during last year’s office holiday party.

“I need some air, I’ll be back,” You called over your shoulder, waving goodbye to Victoria and a few other co-workers on the dancefloor. Your company had rented out an entire event hall for your holiday party complete with an unlimited cap on the bar, a TV chef in the kitchen, and a well-known DJ playing nothing but bangers.

It was the most fun you’ve had at any company-sponsored event in your whole working career, but a breath of fresh air was needed. You couldn’t help but grab glasses of champagne, one for now and a second for later, on your way to the furthest balcony door for a few moments to yourself.

Inhaling as you open the door, you anticipated the crisp December air to hit your nose, but instead, the smell of weed is the first scent you encountered. It didn’t take any time at all before you saw none other than your boss’ boss, CEO Jung Hoseok staring back at you, wide-eyed.

Both of you froze, eyeing one another. You with two glasses of champagne in hand and him with a blunt dangling from his mouth.

“Hey,” he said, quickly overcoming his shock and flashing you one of his infamous, infectious smiles.

“Hi.” You couldn’t help but offer a grin in return.

He didn’t object as you walked over to join him and relaxed as you leaned on the balcony next to him, looking out at the city lights below.

“You smoke?” He asked casually.

“Yeah.” You offered him one of your glasses in exchange and he eagerly nodded, swapping the glass for his weed.

It didn’t take long before the two of you fell scarily easy into conversation. Only a few puffs had you feeling relaxed and coupled with the top-shelf drinks you’d been sipping all night, it felt less like you were talking to your boss and more like flirting with a charming stranger.

You had been with the company for almost a year and still didn’t know much about the man who ran it. All you knew was what the press knew: he and his family moved to America from South Korea when he was in elementary school and he started this company with his college roommate.

Hoseok quickly fixed that, making it clear that he’s an oversharer when he’s not sober. He told you all about his sister, who’s a fashion designer, his parents who own a successful chain of Korean restaurants across the country, and how he accidentally launched this million-dollar tech start-up because he was bored of dealing weed on the side of his shitty part-time college job.

You learned more about Jung Hoseok in the span of thirty minutes than you had since you started working here but you don’t mind. Typically, people that talk too much about themselves were an instant turn-off, but Hoseok was just too funny, captivating, and too unfairly handsome that you let it slide.

At some point in the night, you moved close enough that your sides were touching and his hand started to wander to your hips. From there, his hand found all of your curves and dips and you admired just how strong he felt beneath his shirt. You still don’t remember who moved first, but when the champagne glasses were empty and all of the weed was gone, you moved on to each other’s mouths, tongues intertwined and fists full of formal attire.

Your night ended in you fucking your CEO in an empty bathroom stall, mouth shoved full of his tie to muffle the feral moans he forced out of you.

Hoseok laughs loudly and abruptly on the balcony, the sound like a melody as it cuts your reminiscing short. He glances your way then, sending you a wink, promptly flustering you as you avert your eyes.

Your reaction serves as a reminder of how things between you and Hoseok changed after last year’s party. He went from just the boss to your friend with benefits.

During your 5 day work week, Hoseok continued to be his notorious, overtly friendly self to everyone as normal, but behind closed office doors and dark hallways, he was shoving his hands into your panties and cumming down your throat.

Work hookups shifted to after-work hookups which turned further to weekends spent at Hoseok’s condo having sex and getting high and you were more than happy with it at first until you begrudgingly began to feel more than lust stirring for him.

The more time together you spent together, the more you learn all about Hoseok and his quirks, his likes, dislikes, and overly flirty tone aside, there isn’t much you dislike about him. For the past six months, his presence was a staple in your day-to-day life and you hated that you can’t see yourself without Hoseok somewhere in it.

This is why you’ve been avoiding him. It was your last-ditch effort to combat the growing fondness in your heart for Hoseok. It doesn’t seem to work particularly well, but any progress will surely be halted tonight. It’s clear Hoseok knows you’re purposely staying away from him, and he’s likely to make you pay for it.

“Hey, Y/n, sorry about that,” Hoseok leaves the balcony door open as he comes in, tucking his phone in his pocket. “Yoongi needed to go over some last-minute numbers for the merger.” You nod along as he mentions his newest potential business partner, eyes fixating on his every move as he beelines to his office mini-bar, pouring you both drinks.

He turns towards you, grinning from ear to ear as he moves across the room drinks in hand.

“Thank you,” you take the glass from him and sip. Your favorite wine. “So what did you want to see me about?” You try your damndest to sound casual.

It doesn’t work and Hoseok sets his drink down next to him so he can drape his arm over you. His fingers dance across your bare shoulder as he takes a hit of his still lit blunt before answering.

“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t know. Why exactly have you been avoiding me?”

“Have I?” Hoseok looks at you, clearly not buying your faux ignorance.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/n. I’ve had a shit day and wanted to finally spend time with you,” he sighs, blowing a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. “I don’t know how I survived all week without you and your beautiful pussy.”

You force out a snort to hopefully hide the sound of your heart racing. “He’s just being flirty. Don’t take it seriously.” Hoseok, the always positive always flirty man that he is. Always making you laugh and making you feel more special than anyone else he's seeing and sometimes you let yourself be delusional and think he really means it.

Shaking off the butterflies, you snatch the blunt from him, taking a long drag and passing it back. “It was only a week. I was just busy is all.” You shrug, trying desperately to be on guard. It doesn’t last long as the fingers on your shoulder trail down to graze your nipple through your shirt and you jump.

“Well, now it’s just you and me here so you can be busy with me.” His voice is a trap: laced with sugar, spice, and everything naughty that you know him to be capable of.

“Wow, so you’re that into me huh?” It’s a joke to his ears of course, but you wish more than anything he’d say yes and truly mean it.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” The way he says it makes your hands clammy and you instinctively wipe them on your skirt.

Hoseok leans forward to place soft kisses on your face and neck as nimble fingers trail lower until they’re playing with the buttons on your blouse, undoing each one painfully slow. When he gets the fabric open and slips it off of your shoulders, his fingers are warm as they graze over your bra, brushing against your already hardening nipples.

“You smell so good. You always smell so good,” he mumbles between kisses on your neck. It’s embarrassing how quickly the icy wall you’ve been building to push him and your feelings for him away gets melted into a pathetic puddle. With each kiss, each nibble, each flick of your nipples, you relax in his arms more and more until you’re panting and pushing your body closer to him.

No one should be able to have you like this, yet here is Jung Hoseok, driving you absolutely crazy in every sense of the word.

Once he skillfully undoes your bra and tosses it aside, he takes a long, ring decorated finger and slips under your skirt, rubbing you softly over your panties and it’s enough to have you almost leap off the couch.

“Just as sensitive as always I see.” He muses, clearly enjoying how you fall apart at the mere touch of his finger against your clit. Hoseok reaches under your skirt completely, teasing your entrance momentarily before slipping inside.

“Oh fuck,” gasping, you drop your head onto his shoulder, inhaling his familiar Hoseok scent of weed and woody Hermes cologne.

He presses kisses along your forehead as he fucks you with one finger, then plunges another in. His other hand hanging around your shoulders inches down to roughly squeeze and play with your breasts. Your eyes slip close as you mewl out Hoseok’s name, barely keeping your grip on your half-full glass of wine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. A beautiful girl making all these beautiful noises just for me.” His words drip with a sweetness that only serves to drive you crazier until your hips are moving in tandem with his hand, rushing you embarrassingly further to an orgasm. He’s fucking you hard with his fingers, easily rubbing against your g-spot with the push and pull of those talented painted digits.

“H-Hoseok I’m so close…”

“Cum then, baby. Cum for me, all over my fingers.” The timber of his voice, egging you on is enough to make you whimper his name and do exactly what he tells you to. Warm pricks of pleasure ripple through you, the tightly wound coil inside you releasing as you ride out your orgasm, Hoseok helping you through it with gentle caresses against your core.

“Such a good girl.” Hoseok always praises you when you’re together, but after avoiding him like you have this bout of praise shoots straight to your heart and ricochets straight to your pussy.

Looking up, you make eye contact with the man you want so desperately not to love. His face is flush as he glances back at you and he licks his lips. You already know he wants so much more from you and you want to give it to him.

You don’t think twice before you lean up and kiss him, pressing your lips together with desperation. Hoseok kisses back immediately, and the hand that was on your breast moves to cup your face with a gentleness that you hope he reserves only for you. Hoseok kisses with just as much passion as he fucks with. He licks into your mouth, sucks on your tongue, and glides his lips against yours as though he was always meant to kiss you and only you (which you know isn’t true but you like to pretend).

“Missed this pretty little mouth so much,” he breathes out when he pulls away to take your lip between his teeth. “Wanna use it and show me you missed me?” Hoseok frames it as a question, but you already know it’s more of a command than anything.

Without hesitation, you pull away and empty your glass in one go, then proceed to make your way to the floor in front of him. The white shag rug is soft under your knees and you try to focus more on that than the thumping of your heart. Hoseok sits above you, legs spread as he unbuttons his shirt, opening it to showcase his smooth, sculpted body.

Your hands make quick work of undoing his belt and fishing out his hard cock. You groan at the sight of him, hard and hot, leaking pre-cum for you.

“Mmm, someone’s eager. Missed my cock that much huh?” He smirks down at you before taking another puff of his blunt.

“Yes I did,” you pout and you mean it in more ways than one. Leaning forward you lap at the head of his cock, his hips jerking immediately at the contact. You don’t hesitate to begin sucking him off with the utmost sense of urgency. You want so badly for him to fuck you and can’t even feel ashamed.

“Fuck, Y/n, ” Hoseok throws his head back against the couch. “Just like that.” Large hands reach down to grip your head, stroking your cheeks, forehead, anywhere Hoseok can reach.

His cock is heavy and hot on your tongue, his pre-cum dripping down your throat. You revel in the taste of Hoseok and the way he chants your name over and over again. It only spurs you on to suck him down even sloppier, spit pooling in the corners of your mouth and dripping onto your breasts. You gag each time you take him in, but you won’t stop until he tells you to.

“Let me fuck your face, baby girl.” Going lax almost immediately, you release your hold on his length, and let Hoseok adjust to start thrusting up into your mouth at his own speed. His fingers press into your scalp and it hurts in the most delicious way possible.

Tears prick your eyes as his cock slams into the back of your throat over and over again, having you choking and gagging with each movement. Fuck, you love it when he’s rough with you. It helps you stay away from romanticizing him, only some of the time.

Hoseok is never quiet about the way you pleasure him and this is no exception. Hums and huffs and words of praise come from him, each one having you clenching harder and aching for him even more.

As if he knows how much you’re anticipating him, which he likely does, he pulls out of your throat suddenly and cups your head as you pant for air. Hoseok gazes down at your debauched state and leans down to kiss you again, keeping your lips locked as he stands you up and walks you over to his desk. He keeps you in his hold as he fishes in one of his desk drawers for what you assume is a condom.

Your lower back knocks against the wood, the molding pressing into your skin more the harder he kisses you. Any thought of avoiding him or pushing your feelings away is long since abandoned. If giving into Hoseok with a single kiss or a single grope makes you pathetic, then so be it. You’ll be pathetic for Hoseok as long as he never stops taking care of you the only way he can.

Hoseok pulls away first and turns you around, pressing himself against your back.

“Want you,” you rasp as he fondles your breasts from behind, placing kisses on your neck while he opens the square packet.

“Yeah, you want me?”

“Mmmm.”

“Fuck, I want you too. You kept yourself away from me for way too long.”

It’s easy for him to unzip your skirt and push it down your hips. Your panties come next, pooling with your skirt at your feet as he presses the pads of his fingers into the supple flesh of your ass. His skin is hot and sticky against yours, cock rubbing against your thighs, teasing you. The want for him is almost dizzying as your body buzzes with desire.

“You’re practically shaking for me, baby girl. You want my cock that bad, huh?”

“Mmhmm.” You nod as you mumble to him, but it’s not enough. A heavy hand smacks your ass, the sting making you yelp.

“Not loud enough, baby,” he chuckles, another slap against your ass nearly has your knees buckling. “I’ll ask you again, you want my cock that bad?”

“Yes! Y-yes please.”

Another spank against your tender skin. “Yes, who?”

“Yes sir! I want your cock so bad, Sir!” On cue, you clench your thighs together, hoping the sight of you underneath him will spur him on.

“That’s better. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you better not forget your manners,” Hoseok tuts, following up with two more spanks, your ass burning in the best way possible from the impact.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” it’s a whisper as you momentarily recall your real feelings for Hoseok and why you’ve been trying to stay away from him, but all thought escapes you when Hoseok spreads your thighs, expertly finding your weeping pussy and shoves his cock into you. “Ahh!”

“There you go, baby. Keep making those pretty noises like that for me.” There’s a grin in Hoseok’s voice as his hands take hold of your hips. It’s easy to do as he says as he begins fucking you, rocking into you so hard you jolt into his desk over and over again.

There’s no fighting the way that Hoseok always knows how to make you feel good. He quickly learned all the places you like to be touched, the way you like to be kissed, and the positions you love to be fucked in the most. He knows you too well and you hate it - you hate him. You hate that he always knows you more than anyone.

Hoseok finds a tempo that can only be described as feverish. He’s making it clear that tonight is all about making up for the seven days you kept him away. Sometimes it’s slow and casual, both of you savoring one another and other times, like now, it’s nothing but a race to get off.

“I missed you all week, baby. Missed fucking you and touching you like this.” His words come out through gritted teeth as he plunges his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. He fucks the breath out of you over and over and over again, leaving you with only enough air to babble out what sounds like nonsense to you.

“I’m gonna ruin this filthy little pussy of yours,” another hard thrust. “I’m gonna make a mess of you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“I know you would. My dirty little cockslut. I’m gonna cream this little pussy.”

“Sir! Please I’m so close!”

“Already? Do I make you that fucking wet? That needy for me that you’re ready to cum so fast?”

“Y-yes. I’m so close. Gonna cum for you.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fat cock.” Hoseok’s words are lewd and his thrusts are rough and his hands are soft and it’s all too much.

Eyes screwing shut tight enough to hurt, you cum hard, screaming Hoseok’s name along with a flurry of ‘fucks’ and ‘pleases.’ You grasp at the desk underneath you to stay anchored as your knees completely give out under you, but Hoseok’s strong arms wrap around your waist to keep you upright. His hips don’t stop driving into yours and the pleasure quickly toes the line of pain as he doesn’t falter his pace at all.

“H-Hoseok, I - AHH!” Your sentence is cut off when Hoseok smacks your ass harder than earlier.

“What did you just say?”

“I - Sir! Sir, please I c-can’t!”

A teasing scoff reaches your ears. “Can’t or won’t?” Both of you know you can keep going, but your senses are even more on edge than before. You can feel every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls and every swing of his balls against you. His fingertips feel like needle pricks when he reaches down to toy with your clit.

“Sir!” Hoseok ignores your screeches and continues to rub your sensitive bud. You squeeze around him and a growl of your name leaves his mouth.

“Yeah, clamp down around my cock just like that. You’re gonna have to call off work tomorrow when I’m done with you. Gonna bruise this messy little cunt.” His words ring in your ears as he rocks against your body, plowing you further into the wooden desk. Skin slapping skin, Hoseok’s grunts, and the squelching of your juices echo in the room. For a moment you worry if anyone outside on the street below can hear you getting destroyed by your boss through his open balcony, but thoughts don't stay coherent in your mind for long.

“P-please…” you beg, your body tingling as your third orgasm creeps up.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby girl. So wet and tight for me. I love this pussy so much.”

“And I love you.” You can’t help but think. How can you even think something like that right now? You’re getting your guts rearranged and your heart has the audacity to jump at Hoseok saying the word love about you in any capacity.

The thought is thankfully fucked out of you with one particularly harsh thrust, Hoseok pushes a scream out of you. He drapes his large body over yours to fuck you deeper, his lips and teeth kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Sir… Hoseok, please…” You sound pathetic even in your own ears. The tone only serves to spur Hoseok on as he calls out your name, his voice husky and full of lust.

“You ready for me, baby? Ready for me to cum all over you?”

With clenched fists, you cry out a yes right as you cum again. Stars explode behind your clenched eyelids as your juices squirt all over Hoseok, covering you both. Your mouth opens but you can barely tell if you even make any noise.

“Fuck, yes, make a mess all over me. This pussy is all mine, I love it so much, fuck!” Hoseok moans with his whole chest, hip bones digging into the flesh of your ass seconds before he pulls out. You barely have any energy, but you manage to lean up on your elbows to look behind you and watch as Hoseok yanks off the condom and jerks himself off once, twice, then he’s cumming all over your ass, hot ropes of cum painting your sore skin.

At some point, tears had welled up in your eyes, realizing your cheeks are damp with both sweat and tears.

“Shit, you’re so good for me, baby. So messy with my cum all over you.” Hoseok smirks down at you, reaching up to swipe at your face. “Aw, I’m sorry I made my baby cry.” Whether the tears came from Hoseok or your overactive brain, you smile anyway, the gesture feeling fake but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead, he stands up straight to stretch, your eyes following every muscle as it moves under his beautiful skin. He takes your hand and gently brings you to stand in front of his couch. Quickly, he grabs a few tissues and cleans the cooling cum off of your ass, then sits you down. He joins you after grabbing his earlier forgotten joint and relighting it. He hums as he scooches next to you still naked and takes a hit.

“You’re never allowed to leave me hanging that long again. Seriously, a week felt like a year.” He’s so casual with his words it makes you angry. The idea of him only missing sleeping with you whilst you missed every bit and piece of him feels unfair.

“Like, no one else I’ve been with ever makes me feel like you. Especially not this week. Like this one girl, I met up with the other night? Couldn’t give me a blowjob anywhere near as breathtaking as you. You’re the only one I wanna get high with and fuck.” You swat away his hand when he offers you his weed. How can he just sit here and say something so casual about fucking other people?!

“Goddamnit, Hoseok! You drive me fucking insane!” Your outburst surprises even you, but you can’t take it back now.

He blinks at you, truly clueless. “What did I do?!”

“You walk around the office laughing and smiling at every girl you see and I’ve even seen you flirting with them! How do you think that makes me feel?!”

“Oh come on, you know me, Y/n. I’m too fucking friendly for my own good.”

“Yeah, no shit! You do the same to me and it makes me so confused because you can go from fucking me stupid to talking about how you’ve fucked someone else. Sometimes I really hate you, you know. Like, do you know how all these mixed signals make me feel?!”

“Huh? Y/n, you know I like you right? You’re special to me and I always tell you that.”

“Yeah, Hoseok you do. And you tell me how much you love fucking me and eating me out and smoking with me and that’s always all it ever is with you!”

The words come out faster than you can stop them. The confusion on Hoseok’s face has you wishing the floor would open up and consume you already.

“Y/n, listen, I -”

“Actually, never mind.” You rush to gather your clothes, pulling your skirt on backward.

“Hey, wait I’m sorry if I hurt you or something. I just really like spending time with you. You’re special to me.”

But he doesn’t like you as more than what you are now. It’s obvious. He isn’t trying to hurt your feelings but it does hurt - so fucking much.

“Just forget I said anything, okay. Thanks for tonight.” Your buttons are done up haphazardly but you don’t want to cry in front of Hoseok so you leave it as is.

Before you can open the door, his hand is on yours, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn to him and anticipate his next words. “Let me know when you get home, okay?” His brown orbs are rimmed red, eyelids drooping as he watches you. If you’re lucky, he’ll be too high to remember you pouring yourself out to him and getting nothing in return.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Get home safe.”

You’re out the door after that and it’s not until you’re out of the office, out of the building, and in your car do you let yourself cry. With blurred vision and a bruised heart, you make it home somehow.

Even after everything you text Hoseok, letting him know you’re safe.

[Hoseok] Good :)

He stops typing after that, then starts, then stops again. Wiping away the tears that refuse to dry, you hold your breath, waiting to see what else he possibly has to say.

[Hoseok] If you need to take tomorrow off, that’s fine. Sleep well.

That’s all he says. You feel empty. You haven’t gotten outright rejected like this since high school and it fucking hurts. Hurts so much more than any foolish school crush.

[You] Thanks.

Your night is somber as you silently go about your routine and climb into bed without dinner, no semblance of an appetite in sight. The only thing that haunts you is Hoseok which isn’t uncommon, but this time it’s not the positive, bright times with him. It’s the heartbreaking reality that you love him so much more than you thought you already did and now it just hurts.

Thinking of him and being with him, it’s like you’re swallowing glass and you can’t breathe at the mere thought of him. Tomorrow will be hell and seeing him in the office hallways will suffocate you, so you decide you won’t go in tomorrow. You’ll stay in bed and get a three-day weekend to yourself to wallow in self-pity.

Even so, in the back of your mind, you just know that come a new workweek, you’ll still go running to Hoseok’s office when no one is around. Hell, you wouldn’t even be surprised at yourself if you let him come to your apartment this weekend if he asks. In your love-drunk heart, you know that having Hoseok superficially is better than not having him at all, even if it contorts your heart in your chest. Even if it makes you hate him and hate yourself more for giving in, at the end of the day, you can’t help who you fall for; and you finally accept that you truly have fallen for Hoseok even though he doesn’t and may never, feel the same.

268 notes · View notes

holdontorogers · 3 years ago

Note

dumbification with steve? innocence kinda corruption kink too if u wanna

࿐ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬.𝐫.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; nomad!Steve x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; You were on Steve’s side during the Civil War events, now you had to go undercover, just like him. After a few months apart, Steve has missed you more than both of you could’ve imagined. But he will surely make sure you know that.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1,500

𝐰𝐚𝐫��𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI, porn with little no plot, swearing, dumbification, mocking (dumb girl, cockdrunk), pet-names (pretty girl, honey, sweetheart), corruption kink, dom!Steve, face-fucking, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, size kink (Steve is huge, reader doesn’t think it will fit), slight breeding kink (Steve cums inside reader).

𝐚/𝐧; GIF NOT MINE CREDITS HERE. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Made this with Nomad!Steve bc 🤤 why not? Okay, I didn’t expect to go so far out with this one but oh God. I guess writing smut is my new passion lol.

It has been months since he even heard from you. After a while running together, you ended up going separate ways. He wanted you. It was that simple. And at this point, after all of the events that led him to go undercover and a fugitive, he couldn’t care less. All he knew is that he wanted to cross lines with you, tonight.

You barely recognized him when he arrived at your new hidden place. The calm blue ocean that once shaped his eyes seemed dark and dangerous now. Those angelic eyes and clean face were replaced by wild, almost animalistic eyes. And the beard. Oh, Lord, the beard. You whimpered at the feeling of it rubbing your skin when he hugged you. You also didn’t think Steve could get bigger — but there he was. Broader shoulder, stealth suit fitting his muscles perfectly, and an evil smirk on his face.

“How you’ve been sweetheart?” the pet-name sending shrives down your spine. You simply stare at him, taking in all his features. “Did you lose your words, honey?” your eyes widened at his words, the blue in his eyes almost disappearing as they grew darker. Steve licked his lips staring at you, you could feel the pooling in your panties just by staring at him. Unable to move or do anything thing. You wanted him, it was that simple.

The only problem is that this Steve seemed dangerous, experienced, rough; and you barely knew how to do a proper blowjob at best, lacking much of the experienced he seemed to master by now. But you knew that for him you would do it. Whatever he asked, you were his. Ready for whatever he was willing to give up. You bit your lower lips, lost in your thoughts.

Steve held a groan, the sight of you pressing your thighs together as you looked at him playing hoops in his mind. He left a heavy breath, his dagger eyes focused on all your movements. He could smell your arousal from his place. Carefully, he went forward, cupping a side of your face with his hand.

“What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” his voice was heavy just like his stare. “I’m…” Fuck, did you forgot how to speak? Was he that intoxicating? “You…” he mocked “I need to know what you want so I can give it to you, my dumb girl” his fingers caressed your cheek, as you felt your blood rushing through your body. You leaned to his touching, biting your lips hard so a moan wouldn’t escape. What was he doing to you?

“My dumb baby” he taunted “can’t barely contain the sweet sounds when I touch you” you closed your eyes and swallowed, addicted to the sound of his voice and his fingertips. “Gotta tell me what you want, put that pretty mouth of yours to use” your eyes widened at his words.

“I want you to ruin me” this time the words didn’t fail to leave your mouth. Steve had a satisfied smile on his face, dragging his thumb to your parted lips. You took them in, sucking and swirling your tongue around it, a low, strangled groan escaping his mouth at the sight.

“On your knees, pretty girl” he commanded, and you quickly sunk down to your knees. “Wanna see that pretty mouth of yours having a reason for being so out of words” he stated while undoing his belt and lowering his pants. The bulge clear in his boxers watering your mouths and making you wonder if it would fit later.

“Steve” you mumbled, after his cock sprang free from the restraining underwea. “it won’t fit” you blinked a couple of times. Steve chuckled at your words “Oh, my dumb gir, already so needy for my cock” he pouted, mocking your expression “it will fit, don’t worry. Just wait for it” he promised. You gulped and turned your eyes back to his shaft. “Now,” his authoritative tone made you look at him “Tongue out, sweetheart” another barked command, another order you followed promptly. “Eyes on me” he tilted your chin so you could actually look into his eyes, you nodded complying to all his demands.

You could taste the salty pre cum as you licked and sucked on his reddened tip. Sweet moans leaving your lips at the feeling, Steve’s hand threw back in pleasure. He gripped your hair and started thrusting into your mouth, leaving no spacing for breathing. You tugged on his thighs for support, gagging as his cock reached the back of your throat, tears falling down your eyes. The sounds and your current state only made Steve grew harder in your mouth, seeking his own release, using your mouth at his mercy.

“Doing so good for me, my dumb girl” he purred “gonna cum all over your face, fuck” he promised, almost losing his mind at the feeling “then have you bent over and dripping with my seed after I fuck you stupid” he whispered, his words fading as his release approached, curses leaving his mouth. The sounds he was making became your new favorite, he was in control but his flushed look, parted lips, groans and moans were all because of you. You hollowed your cheeks, and continue to let him use you. Suddenly he removed himself slightly as you felt hot, salty cum filling your mouth. You swallowed all he had for you, licking your lips afterwards.

Looking at him with flushed, innocent eyes, Steve pulled you up by your hair, kissing you. Teeth, tongue and his taste in your mouth mixing together in a passionate and rough kiss. Steve finally started undressing you, his lips never leaving your body. He sucked on your lips and moved to your neck, he could bruise the skin that his mouth captured. Steve wanted to let everyone know who you belonged to. As he sucked on one of your boobs, his large hands cupped the other, squeezing and pulling your nipples, making you whine for more. His fingers found your panties ripping the fabric and throwing away.

Steve removed his remaining clothes, lifting you up and placing you in the couch arm. His fingers found your pussy as he groaned at how wet you were “fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet for me” his fingers spread your arousal through your cunt, tracing every inch, the fraction at your clit making you nearly jump. Steve pushes two fingers into you at once, stretching you open, delighting himself at how well you took them. “Feel so good squeezing my fingers, can’t wait til it’s my cock” he hissed. His thumb starting circling your clit, the pressure building inside you. You felt dizzy, numb to the feeling, gripping his shoulders as you came, hard. The coil in your stomach turning into white, hot, unimaginable, pleasure. Steve licked his fingers clean and moaned at the taste.

With an evil smile, he turned you easily, bending you over, exposing your ass and pussy for him. With a few strokes on his cock, his was ready to ruin all men for you. You whine at his tip teasing your entrance. Steve wasn’t gentle, burring all of him at once, barely giving you time to adjust to his size, impossibly stretching you to fit all of him. He started at a slow, agonizing pace, teasing you. It worked, you whined, grabbed at any resemblance of balance you could find. Almost sobbing for him to stop the torturous pace.

“Steve, I” you whined his name and his cock twitched inside you. “So cockdrunk already?” he mocked “Can’t even form words” he slowed even more, yet you thought it was impossible. “Fa-aster” you tried “Plea—” no warning, his hips started thrusting harder and faster. The pace settled made you feel the coil to form again, his dick sinking into you at every thrust. “My dumb girl” he said with raspy voice “So fucked out by me, won’t even be able to think after I’m done with you”. You could only moan his name, a mess of incoherent whines, sobs and curses leaving your lips.

Steve’s pace lost his rhythm, his release approaching. He started rubbing circles around your clit, pushing you towards the edge with him. It was all too much, the feeling of your walls contracting around him, his thumb in a perfect pace, the fact that it was Steve. You reached your orgasm soon enough, giving Steve the green light to pursue his own release. It was like shockwaves all over his body, his cock buried deep inside you, his hot cum warming you. Steve collapsed on your back, his cock beginning to soften, still inside you.

After a few heavy breaths, Steve removed himself, watching his cum dripping from your cunt, down to your thighs. He grabbed you in his arms and turned you to face him, rubbing his hand through your face. “Guess we need to clean you up” he offered, a sweet, tired smile on your lips. After that night Steve knew that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t leave you ever again. He would make sure to take care of you, protect you. No matter what.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans headcanons #chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut

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annesthaeticc · 3 years ago

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His Promise | Sherlock x Fem!Reader

| a uni!Sherlock fanfic

| FLUFF (with a lil bit angst cause why not, right?)

| 2701 words

| NOTE: this is the sequel of "His Constant" you can check it out here if you want to read it. i love uni!Sherlock as much as you do and this, i just, oh god, i really do not know where i got the energy to write this. this one's for u anon. i hope u love it as much as i do.

It’s been a few good months since yours and Sherlock’s confession to each other. Nothing has changed but everything has changed too. It’s terribly confusing to someone on the outside, but to you and Sherlock, it’s something that only the two of you can understand and live with. You followed the same routine but you’ve grown close to him, and him just the same as you. The boundaries that you were so terrified of crossing were diminishing through time, and he, on the other hand, felt liberated; he was finally free to look at you the way he wanted to and at the same time tell you and make you feel it.

There was not a single time when you longed to be near him and just be in his company. Lunch breaks were spent in the library and the two of you would spend it studying, other times it would be spent making out in the corner of the History section. Sherlock learned to disable the CCTV camera there and you didn’t dare to ask him how he did it. Afternoons were spent by your tree, just lounging and cuddling while reading a book. Nights would be spent with “c’mon one last kiss” and hesitations to go back to your respective dormitories.

The two of you’ve come so far and yet there’s more to go through.

It wasn’t perfect of course, there had been a few times where you struggled; balancing your academics with your social life (the kind of social life aside from Sherlock) and the bullies of course; people who had teased you non-stop for “dating the freak”. Sherlock watched you go through your breakdowns, not letting you fall into the pit of loneliness. He was always there for you, always making sure you smiled at least once in a day.

And you were going to miss him terribly.

Why?

He was graduating.

He started at the same level as you but his professors noticed his stellar performance albeit he still struggled with socializing, and so the administration offered him an advanced course. You urged him to do so, supportive of whatever choice he made. He accepted it, after a few months of his advanced course, he was now graduating. His graduation was happening by the end of the week, leaving you to study for a year. He was coursing through his academics seamlessly while you, you were trying so hard to keep it together under wraps and try to manage it.

Maybe it was because of the course and the unnecessary subjects you were taking; you were really struggling to appreciate it and work on it. Or maybe it was because you were already starting to miss your Holmes. Your Sherlock Holmes. And to think he hasn’t even packed his bags yet.

Said Holmes casually strolled inside the library, absentmindedly solving a Rubiks cube. He walked to the farthest corner in the room where he knows you’ll be. Hidden amongst the tall bookcases, you were sitting on the chair with your laptop propped on the table. Papers were strewn around the table, books haphazardly piled on top of each other. Sherlock smiled to himself when he heard the familiar curse under your breath, the stream of “fuck-this-shit-stupid-fucking-wanker-what-the-fuck-am-I-even-doing”.

He ducked his head in amongst the shelves, like he’s taking a peek at you, his familiar mop of curls making you smile a bit. When he saw you smile, he finally walked towards you and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“How’s it going?” he asked as he settled himself on the seat across from you.

“Getting worse. My thesis mates decided to dump their work on me.” you sighed and removed your glasses.

“Cruel world, isn’t it?” he joked. Though appreciated, you couldn’t bring yourself to smile, you were really getting frustrated.

“It was a joke.” he mumbled under his breath and twisted the cube for the last time, finally solved.

“I know it is, I just, I couldn’t— I’m just very pissy right now.” you replied and buried your face in your hands.

“Yeah, I heard.” Sherlock replied and took off his bag from his shoulder, and leaned back on his chair. He started organizing some of the papers and turned your laptop to his, taking a look at your thesis paper.

“What else do you need to do? This looks done already.” he said.

“I still need to polish the literature part and the fifth chapter.” you sighed and grabbed one of the books as your reference.

“Give it to me, I’ll do it.” he said and offered his hand. You passed him the book, thanking the heavens for his existence.

“God, if I could marry you right now, I would.” You breathed dreamily, the words falling from your lips without any thought.

“Don’t say that.” he scoffed and raised his eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes at him and ducked down.

“Why not? Because you wouldn’t want to marry me?” you challenged him.

“No, I’d do more than that. I’d marry you; I’ll build you a home, we’ll have lots of children and die together.” he said, his focus trained on your laptop screen.

Sherlock never failed to take your breath away with his responses. It’s not because he’s brutally honest, it’s because he’s a man of his words; he means it. He always means it.

“No, don’t say that.” you chuckled, echoing his words.

“Why not?” he asked, his eyes looking up at you. Cold blue irises glowing.

“Because I know you’re not the marrying type, Sherlock.” you replied, your voice almost a whisper.

“You’re right, I’m not the marrying type. But I’d marry you, only you. And we’ll do so much more than marrying each other.” he said. You absorbed his words, a rush of emotion flowing through you. Your eyes welled up, the tears threatening to spill.

It all feels surreal to hear such words from him. You weren’t sure if you should believe any of it. Because now, it all feels nothing; empty promises hanging in the air and fading in just seconds. But he’s Sherlock, the one you love and the one you promised to love forever. So how could your love for him be weaker than your overwhelming fear of goodbye? Your feelings for him; it's all irrational and scary. Exhilarating and breath-taking. It’s a never-ending adventure. And what you feared most; fear conquers love. The one thing you promised him, starting to crumble down.

Sherlock watched the tears run down your face, unsure of what to do. All of a sudden, you got up and grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You started to walk away when he caught your hand in his, just like that night in October. His hand was warm and comforting and it made you cry more. Slowly, you turned to face him, he looked puzzled and worried.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just—it’s all perfect, Sherlock.” you sniffed and looked down. His thumb started to draw circles on your hand, comforting you.

“Then what’s wrong?” he implored you, seeking answers in your teary eyes.

“I need some space.” you breathed out, your voice small and shaky.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“No, but it’s what I need.” you replied, brought his hand up to your lips and kissed his knuckle.

Unhurriedly, you dropped your linked hands. You hold on to the strap of your backpack as if it was a life raft, turned around and left a lost-looking Sherlock Holmes in between the aisle of History and Literature in the Cambridge University’s College library.

Sherlock watched you go, disappearing through the white doors of the library. As you stepped out of the campus, the rain started to pour. Students and professors seeking shelter under the awnings and buildings while you walked alone down the path that led to your dormitory. And the worst of all, you forgot your coat, hanging on the chair next to the one you sat on in the library. Mentally, you scolded yourself for forgetting something important but it didn’t matter now, you needed space as you said and you were going to stand your ground even if it meant getting sick.

After you left, Sherlock drowned himself into finishing your work. Only little needs to be done and he did what he could to make your paper flawless. It was almost six in the evening when he finished. He swiped open his phone to check if you left any message, only to find it empty. Worry doesn’t seem to describe what he’s feeling right now. No, he’s afraid. He’s terrified.

Of course he’s utterly aware that the two of you’ve got a week left to spend together before he finally leaves the campus. That’s when he realized that the two of you did not even talk about his impending goodbye. And now, he doubts it’s a good time to talk about it.

Then as a counter-thought, what even is the point of talking about it? Have you forgotten what he said? He thought. Have you forgotten the words that meant so much more than whatever you’re feeling right now? Have you forgotten that you are and you’ll always be his constant?

Treading on water, he decided to visit you but he didn’t want to push his luck, and so he left you texts. Texts that woke you up. Your phone kept vibrating and pinging, bringing you out of your uneasy sleep at around seven in the evening.

As your eyes scanned his last message, there was a loud knock on your door. You dragged yourself out of bed and padded towards the door. As you opened it, it revealed your Sherlock Holmes, still dressed in his uniform. His hair disheveled, probably because he ran his hands through it multiple times in frustration. He was carrying a paper bag in his hand, the other holding your coat and your laptop. Your heart skipped a beat as you met his gentle gaze.

“I’m sorry.” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“What for? There’s nothing to apologize for, Y/N.” as his sentence concluded, you wrapped your arms around him, burying your tear-stained face into the crook of his neck.

Your cries were heard throughout the hallway and Sherlock, with his hands full; unable to hug you back, just hummed and shushed you, whispering “It’s okay, it’s going to be alright.” in your ear. Nosy and curious as they are, your dormitory neighbors peeked their heads out to check the commotion, unsurprised to see a boy inside the building.

“I think we should get inside, love. Your neighbors are boring holes into my face.” he whispered in your ear, you nodded and disengaged yourself from him, stepping inside your room with him behind you. Once inside, Sherlock put down your belongings on the couch. He swiftly moved to your small kitchen, putting down your dinner on the small dining table. You walked towards him and hugged his back, wrapping your arms around his torso. In instinct, Sherlock leaned slightly into you. He looked up, sniffing, trying to stop himself from crying. He gently pulled you to him as he turned around, finally face-to-face, Sherlock could see your fear shine through your tears. Your anxiety of him leaving is evident in your face.

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N.” he said and clasped your hands into his.

“But I don’t want to be okay without you, Sherlock.” you replied.

“Me leaving you; it’s not permanent, it’s not going to be forever, Y/N.”

“Parting is such a sweet sorrow…”

“That I shall say good night til morrow.” he recited against your lips. Sherlock reciting Shakespeare was rare, and you treasured it dearly. A hint of smile graced your lips and the corner of lips turned upward.

“I only said that to make you smile but honestly, you need to stop reading Romeo and Juliet. We are far from them.” he playfully scolded you.

“No, we’re just the same as them. We’re both idiots in love.” you smirked, running your hand up to his arms, to his shoulder, up to his neck so you could play at the curls at the base of his neck.

“But we’re not stupid enough to die like that, Y/N.” he replied, his tone serious.

“But you said we’d die together…”

“I did say that, but not die like that, Y/N. We’re not going to take poison and die together at such a young age.”

“Because we’re both idiot enough to live long, grow in love and grow old, is that it?” you suggested and he smiled.

“Now you get my point.” he smirked.

“You’re leaving.” you exhaled, more like to yourself.

“And I haven’t even packed my bags, Y/N. You’ve got to stop worrying, honestly that’s what’s distracting you the most, isn’t it?” he asked. He stepped out of your intimate space and led you to the couch. He sat down and he urged you to lie down, your head on his lap.

“I must admit, yes…” you replied. You closed your eyes and sighed when you felt his fingers card through your hair. The same way you do it when his head is on your lap.

“I’m leaving, yes, but I’ll be waiting for you. I’d be a fool to not wait for you, Y/N.” his deep voice vibrated through his chest and you could almost feel it, and feel the warmth of his chest whenever he spoke.

“A year will go by quickly, next thing you know you’ll be in London, with me.” he continued and shifted a bit.

“Do you promise?” you asked, eyes still closed. Silence hung in the air but you could feel his touch drift from your hair, to your cheeks, down to your neck, until he was holding your right hand in his. He gently slipped on a ring on your ring finger and your eyes shot up in surprise as you felt the cold band around your finger.

“If I could marry you now Y/N, I would, but I couldn’t ‘cause we need a minister and a witness to do that. But the only thing I could do right now is promise. I promise you; I’ll wait for you. I promise you; I’ll be there on the last day of your university days, cheering and clapping for you like how you’d do the same for me. God, I’ll be there to spin you around and show everyone how I’m bloody proud of you. Because I am, I am so fucking proud of you.”

“And this, this is the proof of those promises. None of those are empty, I intend to fulfill every single promise I made tonight, Y/N.” he held up your hand, the metal shining as the low light of the room reflected through it. You watched as your fingers slowly fit through his, heart pounding to see the sight of your interlocked fingers. But what’s changed is that a ring was now resting on one of your fingers, and Sherlock could feel the cold band against the palm of his hand. His sentiment for you intensifies every second.

“And I’d be a fool to make you wait for so long, Sherlock. A year.” you said. A silent promise that only the two of you understood.

“A year.” he punctuated.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, a gentle kiss to seal all the words that were said and not said, and promises made and yet to be fulfilled. He pulled away and he saw your pupils grow dark, maybe it was the lighting or maybe it was just pure emotion; swelling and overwhelming, uncontainable at times. He favored the latter. You pulled him to you, your hand snaking up to his chest to grasp his shirt and through his shirt, he could feel the firm ring, making his heart beat faster. He kissed you once more tasting the sweetness of your lips and your love. And you responded in the same vigor, your fears and anxieties fading, and your love for him; just like the sun, blazing.

READ THE PREVIOUS PART; HIS CONSTANT

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( since His Constant got a lot of positive feedback ; hopefully this one too lol, i'm planning to make a series out of it, so pleaaaase lemme know what u think <3 stay safe and well u lovely ppl )

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venuscribble · 3 years ago

Text

Flightless Bird - Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Continuation to American Mouth - read here!

A/N: HEY! First off as usual this fic does not promise grammatical or canon perfection...heck I can't even promise it's good, but, enjoy! thank u sm for the love on American mouth it really makes me the happiest:))

TAGS: fluff, gender-neutral reader, more and more pining, bestie Bella who's younger than reader, me abusing my rights to bold and italic

“Saaaaaay cheese!” Your mother exclaims, her many bracelets jangling as her arm lifts to hold the camera. Without a second to even process the command, the white flash blinds you and Bella together.

“Oh, dear God, that’s brighter than I expected,” Bella grumbles quietly, cautious that your mother may hear. She turns her frame toward yours, bowing her head slightly in the newfound embarrassment of being photographed. Your hand reaches her shoulder as you laugh, rubbing her hoodie slightly to keep her nerves at bay.

“I totally blinked. Y’know, a warning would have been nice?” You call out to the woman currently shaking the polaroid around her small kitchen, happily humming to herself.

“Let’s go to my room”, you propose, “I can shield you there, I promise.”

You’re not much of an extrovert at all yet around Bella, your shyness is dwarfed by her intense introversion. Instinctively, you feel the urge to constantly protect her. To shelter her from all the loudness and all the embarrassment of the world - starting with your mother and her polaroid camera. Although the pair of you have only been acquaintances since your move to Forks a couple of months ago, your personalities and attitudes align perfectly to balance each other out, giving you an almost sister-like bond with your younger friend. Of course, your mother is absolutely delighted, constantly waxing poetic to Bella of how happy she is you’ve been able to make a friend in this blimp of a town, and especially one who’s equally as new to it as you are. You’re happy too, of course - moving with your single mother at the age of 20 doesn’t exactly set you up for a smooth path into Forks.

As Bella lays on your bed, the fairy lights above her head illuminate her puzzled face.

“Hey... D’you know much about the Cullens?”

“The Cullens?” you quickly respond, sounding a lot more panicked than you intended. Of all questions, you were least expecting this out of anything on earth. She knows is your only conclusion as your mind short-wires. She knows about your stupid crush on your doctor.

“Like Dr. Cullen?” you stammer, turning your head from your desk to glance at Bella. “Well, I know him, at least. I see him every Monday for my medication, other than that… nothing else. Why?”

“It’s nothing, just… his kids go to my high school. They’re pretty mysterious. I really doubt anyone knows much about them, but—”

“He has kids?” You blurt out. Bella’s mouth hangs open as she processes your words, then covers her mouth as she eventually laughs. Despite your embarrassment you gradually begin to giggle with her, cheeks burning in your state of embarrassment.

“I mean, he doesn't look a day over 25!” You backpedal quickly.

Of course, Bella sees right through it. “Oh please. Someone’s just embarrassed their favourite doc is taken,” she teases.

You groan, moving to sit beside her on your bed. Admittedly, there may be some accuracy behind the words Bella teases you with. ‘Some’ meaning perfect accuracy.

You’re too mentally dizzy to object, laying your head on your pillow with a grunt beside Bella.

“Don’t sweat it. It’s good, actually. Now we both have a thing for a Cullen.”

“You have a thing for a Cullen?” You manage to rapidly reply. “Do tell.”

“Fine,” Bella sighs, “saying as only you can relate, now.”

“I appreciate this, Bells. It’s not the longest walk from my place” you mutter as the door of Bella’s red truck closes with a painfully loud slam beside you.

“It’s really nothing, Y/N. Besides, Charlie’s gonna love to see me driving my coming home gift.” Bella reasons, beginning her small route to the infirmary.

Your last trip, you realise. Your medication is done with its course, and your neck has perfectly healed. The lack of pain as you turn your head is bittersweet - no agony and your mother constantly checking your meds are taken, yet… no more visits to Carlisle. No more gloved hands resting on your clavicle, remarking on the good job you’re doing merely turning your head. No more of his secret anecdotes on other patients, or reminders to wrap up warm on colder days, or sweet smiles as he welcomes you into his office for check-ups. Without your injury, Carlisle has absolutely no reason to even interact with you, a thought that suddenly startles you. Before you can consider if purposefully jeopardising your neck’s recovery is worth the warmth Carlisle’s check-ups leave in your stomach, the loud squeal of Bella’s brakes pulls you into reality. Fixing your hair and making sure none of your pet’s hairs are left on your outfit, you push the doors open to meet his golden eyes one last time.

Only, golden eyes aren't looking back at you. Instead, the beady eyes of Claire the receptionist stare you down, only softening an inch once she realises who you are.

“Ah! Y/N Y/L/N, isn’t it?” She asks, teeth flashed in a smile that feels the furthest thing away from authentic. Not like Carlisle, you allow your consciousness to whine. Carlisle’s smiles always soothed you, like you’d been the only one to laugh at his little jokes all day. Like your bond was so much more precious than it’s actuality - the charming doctor and you, just another blushing patient.

Claire brings you out of your own head as your prescription rattles in her hand. “Sad to say that’s the end of your prescription, but of course, that’s a good thing too! Stay away from rollercoasters, won’t ya?” She winks as her hand extends the pills out to you. You all but snatch them away and race into Bella’s van.

Rollercoasters. So, Carlisle did tell her how you’d hurt your neck. You wonder what else he’s been sharing, what embarrassing info could possibly be flying around the little office. You highly doubt Carlisle is the type to be indulging in workplace gossip but - you wonder if anything you’ve done is stupid enough to leave Carlisle laughing with his co-workers. It’s a self-indulgent, ridiculous thought. You know it’s all hyperbole, your mind desperately inventing reasons why the man you like should hate you, yet a sour taste sticks in your mouth the remainder of the drive back.

“No Carlisle today,” you sigh.

Bella hums in understanding. “It’s a nice day, for Forks. The Cullen’s don’t show when the sun’s out.”

You look at her, in silent shock. “Quite the Cullen expert now, hm? Did your Edward even say bye?”

“Oh, c'mon Y/N. Jess told me like two days ago. Don’t get all mopey on me because you miss your precious Carlisle.”

Ouch.

The chime of a bell rings above your head as you push your way into the quaint bookshop. The walls are beige and stacked to the brim with piles of works, something which excites you deeply. Houseplants are scattered amongst breaks between sections, resting on old wooden stools around corners and between bookshelves. Knowing that pinpointing exactly what you want will take a century and longer, you allow your eyes to begin an aimless roam over the piles of titles stacked in front of you. You flick through a ruby red covering of Hamlet, then picking out a leather-bound collection of romantic poems, lost in a trance as you take in all the titles calling to you. The small bookshop’s surroundings melt away as your hand reaches out once more - until a velvety smooth voice freezes you on the spot.

“Oscar Wilde, very nice. You’ve great taste, Y/N”.

You spin on the spot, book clutched to your chest. “Doctor Cullen?”

Sure enough, the familiar sight of his golden hair under the soft lights of the bookshop has your heart pounding in mere seconds. “Lovely to see you, Y/N. Especially somewhere that isn’t my office, might I add.”

His lips press together to give you a soft smile. It's extremely endearing to you - under his harsh white lights, his features are perfectly sharp and striking. Yet, in the warm glow above you both, his eyes appear to be a soft brown and his face becomes more endearing than intimidating. In place of his clinical white coat, is a flowy charcoal cardigan

For once, you don’t fear what he thinks of you. Instead, you drink in his presence beside you, relishing in the conversation he has struck up.

“It’s great to see you too, doct- well, Carlisle. I can call you Carlisle by now, I hope?”

Carlisle smirks. He can feel you growing more confident now, relaxing into his company. Right now, you feel far from the meek patient he first met, in the best sort of way.

“Please do, Y/N, I'd like that. If memory serves, your prescription is finished, so there’s no reason to anyway. Did Claire give you it?”

“She did,” you quip. “She also mentioned roller coasters. You aren’t sharing news of how reckless I am, are you?” Truthfully, you have no idea where the confidence is stemming from to even joke about this. Except, how desperate you’ve been to hear his voice again. The words are just freefalling, you fear.

Carlisle laughs, a deep and hearty laugh that has him placing a hand over his chest.

“You aren’t reckless for riding a couple of roller coasters, Y/N. Who is reckless however,” he begins and takes a step towards you, “is the people responsible for how they’re built. Now that is reckless. Not you, for living while you're young.” Carlisle’s smirk now is almost sly. You smile back, nervous under his nurturing gaze.

“Thank you. I should probably know better, now that I’m somewhat older…it’s sort of embarrassing, actually.” It’s very embarrassing you think, eyes sinking to the floor. “I should have said I fell.”

Carlisle pauses in thought, taking a moment to soak in your words until cutting the silence short. So self-doubting, he internally sighs. If only you saw things the way he did.

“You trust me, yes?”

Your wide eyes flit up to his, looking noticeably sterner than a moment ago.

“O-of course I do, Carlisle.”

“Then trust that I would never share anything personal to you, with anybody you don’t know. Claire simply saw I wrote the word roller coaster on your prescription slip, nothing more. She can get rather sneaky, at times.”

All you can do is wince, your stomach churning deeply. Carlisle isn’t…mad, is he? Does he think you don’t trust him? The reality of your feelings is a complete 180 from distrust - you like Carlisle. Perhaps too much, given the little time you've spent with him. Yet, there’s absolutely no one else you’d trust your health with, no one else’s hands you’d put your life into. All the small conversations and friendly joking have led you to one strong conclusion - Carlisle has the purest heart you’ve ever known, so genuine in his need to do good and never expect good back.

“God Carlisle, of course, I trust you. It was a stupid joke, I’m… I’m sorry if you-“

“Please, Y/N, I know! If I were you, I would be a lot less kind, actually.”

Your hands squeeze the book still in your grasp, almost horrified at the possibility you could’ve upset him. The gentle look in his eyes washes the fire of guilt ablaze in your stomach, cooling your body which seems to have gone on overdrive during your internal panic.

Timidly, your eyes lift from the floor to find the same gentle smile on his lips. A hand extends towards the book clutched to your chest, his slender fingers reaching to pry it from you.

“I’ll give you a deal, Y/N.”

The way your name flows from his lips, in his gentle tone, makes your stomach whirl as if you were falling every single time. “Because my feelings are so clearly hurt, I insist you let me buy you this book.”

“Some sort of deal!” You scoff. “Isn’t that double punishment for you? You really don’t have to buy me anything, that’s ridiculous.”

“Ah, I’m ridiculous now? Wow, that hurt. I suppose I’ll have to buy it and drive you home now, then.”

Your head shakes, mouth open in utter confusion. How can he joke like this? Part of you screams like a banshee at the prospect of him driving you home, wanting to keep you safe, buying you the stupid book to see you smile. The remainder of your mind is clinging to what little rationality hasn’t slipped away.

“I know you’re joking Carlisle, but I’m really fine. I can buy the book and make it home, I can’t let you spend money on me.”

Carlisle allows himself a small laugh. Like clear quartz, the purity of your nature takes him off guard. The book you held was clearly aged, almost certainly costing a couple of dollars if that. Yet, here you are, stubborn as a mule and rejecting his attempts to spend what little time he can grab with you.

“I know you walked here, Y/N. Please, let me make sure you get home safe, it’s getting quite late.”

Arms crossed, you give a defeated sigh. There’s really no fighting the doctor, even if you wanted to. Quite frankly you never want to. He’s incredibly easy to give into, you realise.

He grins wider as you agree, on the basis that the sun is beginning to set and the book is incredibly cheap. You’re not sure which car to walk to as you exit the bookshop, the clouds above you tinted raspberry pink. You pause to admire them for a second, comforted in the swirls of hues and tones nature has painted for you. You look down to see Carlisle besides what you could describe as the flashiest car in Washington. It doesn’t seem to phase Carlisle - he opens your door for you all the same. If only all those with money had even half the compassion of Carlisle, you think. After briefly explaining where to take you, Carlisle sets off, cautious to keep his speed minimal. He’s hell-bent on spanning this moment out as long as he can, even if it means abandoning his usual preference of burning rubber.

“Thanks again, Carlisle. Y’know, my mom’s gonna be delighted if she hears you were keeping me safe like this.”

“Of course, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for. I have a duty to make sure you’re safe, doctor or not.”

“You really don’t,” you sigh, “I’m 20. I can make it home fine. I don’t wanna waste your time like this.”

“You think this is wasting my time?” He asks, turning his head to you when he can. You fumble, toying with your hands as you reply.

“Maybe? I’m not the world's best at conversation, you know that.”

He tuts, shaking his head once more as a small laugh escapes him. “I wish you wouldn’t think that way. You have to believe me when I tell you. This is not a waste of my time. Being with you, keeping you safe… is never time wasted.”

The knot in your stomach unwinds. Your hands separate from one another, resting on your knees as you beam at Carlisle. Like the first ray of sunlight, you feel the warmth of happiness replace the bleak fear coasting through your veins. Carlisle may have no idea how heavy the weight of his words is, but they hit you like a brick wall. His purity engulfs you, filling you in a blissful feeling of being liked. Even if not liked, to hear Carlisle may actually enjoy spending time with you outside of those revolting white walls in his office, sets your heart alight in a blaze of excitement. You feel like you’re falling, yet you never want to land.

Carlisle sees your smiling face shine back at him, putting his worrying mind at ease. He hasn’t felt this way about anyone in a long, long time. Mortal or not. If his undead heart could palpitate, he has no doubts it would. You look the picture of beauty to him as your head rests against his car window, admiring the sunset the way you did once before. You look so content, he thinks. You look perfect. Even when you’re gone, he misses the sight of your dreamy eyes which always struggle to meet his and the way you laugh at his old-fashioned humour with your whole body. Not wanting to spoil your serene state, he approaches your house as slowly as possible. Eventually, all good things come to an end, he reminds himself.

“Here we are.”

“Here we are,” you repeat glumly. Carlisle smiles once more, turning his frame to yours.

“It was lovely to catch up, Y/N. My apologies for my absence, also.”

“No, thank you, Carlisle. Seriously. I really can’t wait to read this.” You laugh, gesturing to the new book Carlisle had kindly gifted you.

“You really do have great taste, I love Dorian Gray.” Carlisle remembers when Wilde first released the novel — he loved it then, too.

“You have to let me make it up to you,” you argue. Carlisle only raises an eyebrow, allowing you to continue. “L-Let me buy you a coffee sometime?”

Your shyness sends a pang of pain through Carlisle. Like a lamb, you’re so timid to him and so kind. He wants to tell you that you have nothing to fear around him, though he knows that would be completely devoid of the truth. The truth savagely bites him once more. Your calming aura blinds his eyes from seeing who he really is, who his family and friends are. This isn’t his problem yet, he thinks, meeting your pleading eyes once more.

“That’d be wonderful, Y/N.”

Taglist: @violetblvd :D

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#carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x you #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen #twilight imagine #twilight #me posting at 3am again #part 3??#late night writes

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2-the-moon-and-2-saturn · 2 years ago

Text

when sunlight wanes

(also on ao3 if u wanna go there :)

There are many benefits to having watched The Wizard of Oz as many times as Kara did growing up, but at the moment she would say that the absolute best thing about it is her consequential ability to run the dialogue and soundtrack in her mind instead of disturbing the peacefulness that comes with being awake at three in the morning – when the noises she has to worry about are so relatively insignificant, it takes almost no effort to hear her own thoughts.

Even so, in the quiet stillness of the night, it’s not long before whispers of ruffling curtains and lazy yawning tickle her ears as half-awake steps emerge from their bedroom, trailing towards the couch. It’s not much of a surprise, either – neither her nor Lena do very well sleeping without one another.

So, when her girlfriend sits down directly behind her – arms snaked around the blonde’s middle as her chin finds its home in the crook of her neck, – there are no words needed. Kara just sinks into the contact, takes in the scent of home, and lets their breathing sync together. Runs her hands across sleep-warm forearms before interlacing fingers with ever-chilly ones, and bringjng a pale hand up to her lips – a kiss on its palm in form of greeting.

She lets herself think of soulmates, of feeling whole, and of all the other things she would believe Lena thinks its bullshit were it not for the way her eyes glow when Kara talks about it, and talks about them, as if the two were synonyms that could be used interchangeably in the most beautiful of poems.

Anyways, she’s rambling now.

The point is: it’s nearly morning, Dorothy and Toto are following the Yellow Brick Road, and Lena and Kara are lost in bliss and the perfect balance between holding and being held. And for a while, that’s all they need.

But she’s not surprised, either, when Lena’s lips meet her shoulder in the gentlest of kisses before her girlfriend settles back into her previous position and exhales softly, arms tightening nearly imperceptibly around the Kryptonian.

“We were getting better at this,” she murmurs eventually; not hesitant or scared to bring it up – not after everything they’ve been through, – but calm. Calm in her concern, calm in her love, calm even in the slight disappointment Kara knows she must feel at not having been reached out to.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde sighs, straightening her spine and thumbing over knuckles that lay under her own. “It was just- it wasn’t that bad, and you’ve had such a tiring week, and-and we have so much to do in the next few days, it just seemed kind of silly-“

“Darling,” Lena pauses the movie, then rearranges her position on the couch until she can find her girlfriend’s eyes without breaking off their embrace. The green of them is piercing in its inquisition. Safe, but almost painful to look at. Like Kara knows it’s determined to break down too many walls on its quest to heal the wounds in her soul. As though healing is possible, but it will bring her so much pain, she finds herself wondering if it’s even worth it. “Do you want me here?”

But the green of those eyes is also the color she loves most, and to be untruthful before such beauty is a crime Kara has vowed never to commit again. So, maybe she can’t bear the weight of Lena’s gaze as she admits vulnerability, but Kara nods in confirmation anyway. Even if she needs to look away in order to do so.

“Then I don’t care,” the youngest Luthor points out, tucking a strand of golden hair behind Kara’s left ear, then cupping her cheek as her thumb draws featherlight patterns on the skin there. “This isn’t a one-way street.” Kara leans into it. “You look after me, I look after you. That’s the deal.”

“I know,” she deflates, eyes downcast. Because those are the rules. Unspoken, but present long before confessions of love and promises of forever, then officially set in place when they both realized just how inexperienced they were at this whole permanence thing.

Still, though.

That doesn’t mean they’re easy to follow.

“I’m trying,” she looks up apologetically.

And Lena… Lena comes impossibly closer, then plants a kiss on her forehead. “I know you are,” she breathes out the soft words, before kissing her again and retreating with an even softer smile, like it doesn’t matter that Kara is invulnerable.

Though of course, after that, Kara isn’t.

Her eyes fill up with tears that are promptly wiped away, two pale hands now cradling the superhero’s face as Kara’s fiddle with the ends of Lena’s sweater.

“It’s so stupid,” her voice makes its way through the knot in her throat, and she wants to scream at the uselessness of it all. Agitation gradually takes over as the anger she’s been quelling finds its way back up to the surface, so the Kryptonian disentangles herself from the very accidentally-breakable human she loves.

It feels wrong. And lonely. And typical.

“It happened, there’s nothing I can do about it,” she gets off the couch and starts pacing almost on default. “Besides, not all of Krypton is gone anyways, so I just don’t see why I can’t move on and stop dreaming about it. They were there, I wasn’t. I don’t get to-“

“Don’t say that,“ Lena’s tone is protective. She never did stand down when anyone was unfair to Kara. “This isn’t a trauma competition. You know that’s not how it works.”

“They’re happy, Lena,” Kara exclaims, big, pleading eyes. “And not like we’re happy. They’re…” she scoffs, “carefree. They felt the ground shake apart as the rest of the world blew to pieces, and it’s like it left no mark whatsoever on them.”

“Maybe,” her girlfriend gathers her hands on top of her knees and leans forward ever so slightly. In the past, especially before, Kara’s been on the receiving end of a gaze similar to this – when Lena will stop at nothing to make herself heard, – but there’s more to it, too. There’s that gentleness that’s reserved only for Kara, that unconditional understanding that never fails to ground her. “Or maybe they have nightmares about it that might never really go away.”

The thing about that gaze, though, is that in moments like this, it’s also very efficient at bringing tears to the Kryptonian’s eyes. Kara turns around, brings the back of her hand up to her face in an attempt to wipe off the flow of emotions that keeps coming.

She hates it.

Two hands settle on her shoulder, thumbs stroking the skin there, but make no move other than that. It’s Lena, Kara reminds herself. She doesn’t have to be strong with Lena. She gets to fall apart.

When the Girl of Steel turns around, crumbling under shimmering green, she leans into it.

One hand snakes around her waist to pull her close, while the other comes up to cradle the back of her head. With her face buried into the crook of Lena’s neck and her hands clinging on to the woman who shelters her heart, she lets it bleed.

You will do extraordinary things, her mother had said. Of course, she never got to tell her that she would have done anything to be mediocre.

I won’t fail Kal-El, or you, and then the shockwave from Krypton’s demise hit her pod, and she broke her promise for the first time.

Sound doesn’t travel in space, which means the crack she heard as her world crumbled to pieces must have come from herself. And as Kara watches it play out from her pod’s rearview mirror for the nth time, she crumbles down as well. Only, this time, Lena is there to catch her.

Lena, who keeps whispering I’m right here, and It’s okay, I’ve got you, and countless other reassurances that prove to Kara that her story may be one of devastating loss, but it has also gifted her with treasures beyond her comprehension.

She doesn’t know how long she spends crumpled up into Lena on the floor of their apartment, its once-silent atmosphere now filled with body-wracking sobs and trembling hands that grab onto her girlfriend’s sweatshirt probably way more tightly than its fabric was made to withstand, as well as paradoxal pleas that Lena get back so she won’t hurt her, which only get those arms to pull her impossibly closer.

And she needs it.

Kara knows she needs moments like this, but it’s dangerous. It’s terrifying, because for all her abilities, the one thing she seems to do best at is losing people. And she doesn’t know what she will do if she loses this.

If she loses Lena.

“You won’t,” the woman’s hands are cradling her face now, desperate green eyes piercing into hers, and that’s when Kara realizes she’s been repeating I can’t lose you, over and over again. “Kara, I need you to listen to me, alright? You won’t lose me. I’m here with you. I’m staying.”

The woman who was once believed to be the Last Daughter of Krypton doesn’t have the heart to tell her there is no way she could possibly control that. The youngest Luthor leans closer, forehead resting against her own as two pairs of eyes let go of desolate tears, together.

“Darling, I will never leave your side,” Lena whispers her reassurance, bittersweet against the knowledge of how flimsily a promise like this holds when faced with the wrong circumstances. Of course they know – how could they not?

They choose to bask in it, anyway.

Because they can, for a little while.

And how absolutely extraordinary is that?

Her emotions settle down a bit after that. They watch the rest of the movie – Kara sitting between Lena’s legs, cuddled into her chest as she lets the sound of her girlfriend’s heartbeat lull her into a serene sort of heartache. When the credits roll, Lena tightens the grip of her left arm which has been wrapped protectively around the blonde’s middle, and pauses the movement of her left hand, which has been languidly stroking Kara’s hair.

She lets out a disgruntled noise at that, but Lena’s thumb brushes against her cheek, so delicate Kara almost thinks she’s imagining it, then soft whispers follow.

“Darling, are you still awake?”

In response, Kara mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into the safety of her girlfriend’s embrace. A moment after Lena chuckles softly at the blonde’s sleepy indignance, her fingers go back to slowly untangling the mess that Kara’s hair has become.

“Are you aware of how astounding you are?” Lena continues, voice low and musing, almost as if she doesn’t really mind whether Kara is listening or not, wants to say it all the same. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t tell you enough,” she confesses. “It’s no secret that I’m not very good at saying how I feel.” A wet chuckle. If Kara opened her eyes, she’d find her face being inspected by adoring green eyes. It’s okay that she doesn’t, though, because everything about Lena exhales unabashed love right now.

“But you are so, so precious, my love. You are strong, and kind, and you have this beaming grin – oh, I wish you could see it.” Featherlight, her fingers trace Kara’s features as she speaks; the outline of her eyebrow, the dry tear tracks ok her cheek, the outside of her bottom lip. “D’you know, the smile itself isn’t even the best part? It’s your eyes. There’s a glow to them that makes it seem like, for a moment, all of that yellow sun energy that courses through you is shared with the outside world, and everything feels brighter, and whatever one hopes for feels closer to the realm of possibility. It’s… ethereal. I can’t imagine anyone being immune to that. And I’m pretty sure it’s what first roped me in – having had the privilege to experience that.”

By now, Kara’s tear ducts have made an excellent job of welling up the space behind her closed eyelids, but she doesn’t dare move – the way her fist reflexively tightens around the NCU sweatshirt that’s been long claimed by her girlfriend, the only indication that she’s conscious at all.

Lena lets out an adoring breath, the one that seems to be reserved for Kara and Kara alone, then adjusts her arms so the blonde will be cradled even more closely into her middle, if that’s possible.

“Now, you should listen closely, because this is the most important part: you’re like our own piece of the Sun, everyone can see that. But that’s not what made me fall in love with you. You, Kara Zor-El, stole my heart with the contrast you hold between light and darkness. That complexity in your story – the fact that you have such frightening demons, yet you persevere? That gave me strength to believe I could do the same.

“So, I know you feel the need to be strong in face of the world and the people you love – I know it’s one of the ways you try to protect us – but you don’t have to be strong with me. I love your heart in its entirety, and whatever it goes through, I want to be here. If it breaks, I want to help you mend it. If it’s clad in scars, I want to kiss them. And if old wounds reopen in the face of adverse conditions, I want to be here to nurse it back to health. I want to be by your side through it all.”

Kara finally opens her glistening eyes and looks up at her girlfriend, finding that Lena’s aren’t much better off. The Kryptonian moves to tuck a stray lock of raven hair behind the youngest Luthor’s ear, smirks affectionately, and then-

“I thought the heart was ‘merely a blood-pumping muscle, wholly unrelated to emotional matters’,” she quotes the discussion from a few movie nights ago.

Lena laughs, a delicate, yet indignant thing.

“I cannot believe you just destroyed the mood by bringing up a point that I wasn’t even the one to make!”

“You agreed with him, that was enough,” Kara giggles, grinning wide, and she wonders if what Lena described is happening right now.

Maybe it’s their way of dealing with the emotionally charged past few hours that cause the couple to find themselves in a fit of laughter which ends up tightening the knot that’s been lodged in Kara’s throat just enough. When tears roll down her cheeks again, Lena tenderly wipes them, and when glossy green eyes set free tears of their own, Kara is the one to wipe those.

“I love you so much,” is all she’s able to say – the pressure in her temples and exhaustion finally hitting full force, – but given her girlfriend’s tight-lipped smile, hurried nod, and kiss to Kara’s forehead as she tries not to cry any further, it’s enough.

They don’t go back to bed that night, too comfortable in their arrangement to move even an inch. Instead, Kara settles back into the crook of her girlfriend’s neck, Lena’s fingers resume stroking golden hair, and for a few minutes, tears flow freely, quietly.

As the Sun rises behind the living room window, their hearts beat in unison, and their slowing breathing aligns. It’s safe to say neither Catco’s Editor-in-Chief, nor the Foundation’s CEO will be able to work more than a half-day this Tuesday.

Nodding off to tranquility seeping through her bones and peace surrounding her in a warm hug, Kara can’t find it in herself to care.

#supergirl #supergirl cw #lena luthor #supercorp #kara danvers #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath #kmcg #supercorp fanfic #supercorp ao3 #supergirl ao3

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