#it's not exactly a relationship study and neither is a drabble

[seineko]

lan wangji and lan sizhui's relationship isn't discussed enough!

a-yuan was the reason lan wangji lived and i will stand by it as long as i have to.

i'm not talking about living in a physical sense. he would've done so being the light bearer he is, but the peerless hanguang-jun lost his light the second he knew wei wuxian breathed his last.

hanguang-jun was just that, a light bearer, not the source of it. he was the moon that depended on the sun to provide it to the people, but he already lost his sun.

he probably would've gotten sucked into the black hole that was left behind after his star died that he did not realize there was another sun right beside it until he heard the faint cries of a child.

a-yuan. (he was the sun that the last of qishan wen couldn't even hope to be.)

it's the ways in which lan wangji and sizhui's interactions are so subtly domestic that melts my heart completely.

the relationship they share that of a guardian-ward, of a father-son.

the way sizhui (along with jingyi and a few other lan juniors) scream 'hanguang-jun!' and are able to smile while being held hostage really says a lot about both the trust they have in him and how safe they feel around him.

sizhui saying that feels as if he has nothing to fear or worry about, so long as lan wangji or wei wuxian were around. the bone deep trust that he has that he will be safe if he's around either of them even if he was in the middle of a literal death trap had me pause for a few seconds to let myself bawl out.

it's in the way sizhui so willingly and so enthusiastically interacts with lan wangji while everyone around him (except a few of the lan juniors) are scared witless to even breathe the same air as him. even the lan juniors don't seem to have the ease that sizhui has. (okay, this may probably be me over reading into it, but i really did feel that way while reading.)

and, my favorite interaction, sizhui encountering that lan wangji buried a-yuan in a pile of rabbits will never ever make me stop smiling like an idiot.

they have one of the healthiest parent-child relationship i've seen and i so, so long for it.

it's as surprising as it is devastating how less they're talked about. a crime really.

[verstappen-cult]

# PINING IN ANTICIPATION | MV1

Neither you nor Max know how it started but it made you feel better and that was enough for him.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader. Content Warnings: +18, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming, a lot of feelings, hurt/comfort.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : okay, so, this was gonna be a porn without plot kinda drabble but this thing came out instead. please don’t expect anything fancy because i really suck at writing smut.

Max opens the door before you could even start to question yourself.

He’s surprised to see you knocking on his door at two in the morning. You start to regret coming to him when you see him rub the sleep from his eyes. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You look down, choking on a sob. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

Max is by your side in a second, wrapping an arm around your waist to guide you inside his apartment. He doesn’t let you go until you’re sitting comfortable on the couch, tucking your legs beneath you. 

“Did something happen?” 

“Had an awful fight with mom,” You fidget with your fingers, the corners of your eyes already filled with tears. “she said really mean things.”

Max reaches out and grabs your hand, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, he’s very familiar with the relationship you have with your mother because it is pretty much the same relationship he has with his father. Actually, when you first met, you bonded over the awful parents and experiences you had as kids. 

“Couldn’t stay home alone.” You say, shyly. “I’m sorry for coming at this hour.”

“Don’t worry about that.” 

The silence stretches between you two. Max looks carefully as you get lost inside your head, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. He can almost hear your thoughts. He knows what you need, the only thing that makes you feel better and gets you out of your head. 

Max doesn’t know exactly how it happened. One moment you’re in the brink of an anxiety attack and then, in the blink of an eye, you’re sitting on his cock, face buried into the side of his neck as he rubbed your back up and down.

It wasn’t sex because you didn't kiss, there wasn’t some awfully awkward dirty talk and neither of you came at the end — well, not that you know. If Max had to lock himself in the bathroom after you fell asleep because he was still so painfully hard, it’s definitely not something you need to know; he still feels disgusting and will take that secret to the grave. 

You didn’t talk to each other for at least two weeks after that. Max wanted to reach out but you were ignoring him, and he wanted to give you space to sort your head out. And when one day you sat down next to him and started to apologize and ramble about not wanting to lose him because he’s just so important in your life, Max was finally able to relax because you were fine. Everything was fine. 

You had a long conversation. And it was that day when Max learnt that what you did was called cockwarning and it was actually something people do to feel better. For you, it was about feeling physically as well as emotionally close with the other person, so, that is why it was so easy for you to do it with Max, you felt safe and you trust him. You also explain to him how, when things are just too much, feeling that deep pressure inside of you as well as the warmth emanating from a body under yours is, somehow, enough to stop your mind from reeling with questions, and feelings, and emotions. 

Max actually googled it. He opened an incognito tab and typed the words. He doesn’t know how much time he spent reading about experiences and actual studies about something that he had never heard of before. But it was like you said—many people do it because they feel safe that way, others because they don't want to think and it’s the only way they can relax and go into something called sub-space — Max didn’t do research on that because it was too much information and he just couldn’t handle it — while others do it just because they like it, no real meaning behind. 

You promised it wouldn’t happen again.

And, well, you should’ve known better. 

After the second time, you came to an agreement. Max would help you because he’s that good of a friend and cares about you. And because he didn’t want you to be looking for somebody else who could help you if you already felt safe with him. 

He never found it weird, and you appreciate that. 

So, now everytime you feel overwhelmed and can’t get out of your head on your own, Max is there to help you. Even if all you want is to just sit on somebody’s cock and pass the time, relax. He doesn’t care. 

It’s good that after the second time he was able to gain some control and not embarrass himself and you in the process. Max still feels like, one way or another, he’s taking advantage of you and you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had to assure him that it is not like that and if you ever feel uncomfortable you will tell him. 

“Y/N?” He rubs the palm of your hand but you don’t look at him. You don’t react, not when he lets go of your hand and kneels in front of you and not even when he cups your cheek with his hands. “Hey, Y/N, I need you to get out of that pretty head of yours. Could you do that for me?” Max sighs in relief when he finally sees your gaze focusing on his face after what feels like hours. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The corners of your mouth go up to form a sad smile. 

“You need my help?” Max asks, thumbs caressing your cheekbones. You nod, but that isn't enough. “You know we don’t work like that. I need words.”

It’s not the first time that the way he speaks to you sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve just become pretty good at ignoring it. 

“Yes,” You breathe out, closing your eyes to center yourself and stop the whine threatening to leave your lips. “I need you.” 

“Good,” He almost says Good girl, but holds his tongue. “You want to go to the bedroom?”

You shake your head. You don’t feel strong enough to walk there. “No, it’s okay. We can do it here.” You say in a small voice. “I’m really sorry for coming. “I’m fine, okay? I just need to relax an—”

“Hey, don’t, okay? I told you to come to me when you needed me. Night or day.” He reassures you, but you still feel like crying. “You think you can wait for me? I need to go get something.”

“No! Wha—why?”

Max tries not to laugh but you’re pouting and he finds it cute. “I need to get the lube,” Your pupils are wide and a faint bush covers your cheeks, because he doesn’t finger you to help make things easier, even though he has said he’s okay with it, you’re not. “I’ll be back in a second.” He leans to leave a kiss on your forehead before dissapearing.

You hide your face in your hands, breathing in and breathing out just like your therapist taught you. Only when you feel like you won’t pass out, you decide to speed things up by removing your jeans. 

You don’t like feeling like this. It’s almost comical that after all this time, knowing how your mother is and how always will be, she still has so much power over you. A few mean words and you are ten years old again. You can’t hate her, she’s your mother after all, but you’ve tried, only God knows how much you’ve tried to hate her and not come back running back to her when she tells you some nice things. It’s a vicious cycle that not even with therapy you’ve been able to stop.

When Max comes back he finds you sitting on the couch only in your underwear. You avoid making eye contact, feeling a little embarrassed for not wearing your cute lingerie. You chastise yourself for going there because this is not about sex, and it’s definitely not the first time that Max has seen you like this. 

When you look up, he’s already watching you. “You okay?” You nod, not trusting your voice. 

You break eye contact when Max moves his hands toward the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“You need help?” 

You see Max smiling from the corner of your eyes. “No, I already took care of that.”

Max is quick to shove his sweatpants down his thighs and join you on the couch. He pats his thighs and opens his arms for you, and you’re immediately moving to straddle his lap. You steady yourself grabbing Max’s shoulders, hovering over his lap and looking up to the ceiling as he busies himself opening the lube and dripping some over his cock. 

Your heart skips several beats as you look down to find him stroking himself to spread the lube. You’ve seen him do the same thing at least four times but you still feel like passing out every time you see his big and skilled hand move. Not for the first time you let yourself wonder how would his fingers feel inside of you. 

Max grabs your waist with one hand and uses the other to run the tip of his cock through your folds. You close your eyes and stop breathing as he, finally and slowly, sinks into you. You bite your lips trying to get used to the stretch, Max rubs circles on your lower back as he lets you adjust. You’ve done this quite a few times but you’re still not used to it. 

“You can—” You sigh, opening your eyes but Max is not looking at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He focuses his attention back on you, and smiles. You try to smile but your expression changes when you move all the way down, a whimper leaving your lips at finally having his cock buried deep inside of you. 

Max groans, grabbing your waist with more force than normal before letting go and, instead, grabbing the cushions by his sides. 

You lose the grip and wrap your arms around his neck, immediately resting your head on his shoulder and relaxing against his body. “Thank you.”

Max makes a weird noise, but you feel him nod. He lifts his hands and places them on your waist, fingers already caressing your back, sides and neck. 

Max turns his head just enough to be able to leave a kiss on your cheek before going back to his initial position. He reaches for the remote and turns on the TV, choosing to put on some comedy film as a background. 

The only thing you can feel and think about is his cock inside of you, making you feel so full, and the warmth emanating from his body, grounding you and, at the same time, making you feel like you’re floating around. There are no bad thoughts, you’re not thinking about the fight you had with your mom anymore. 

You’re not actually too lost inside your head, the walk to Max apartment helped you clear your mind a bit. You’re still a little shocked by the words and things your mother did, definitely, but once you reached Max building, you were feeling a lot better. If you ended up coming up anyway, well, Max offered to let you sit on his cock overwhelmed or not and you wouldn’t let that offer pass. You don’t know how much time you have together because one of these days Max can find a girlfriend and you will have to go out and look for somebody as understanding as your friend. 

The mere thought of Max with another girl makes you want to throw up. So, you shut your thoughts off. 

You don’t know how much time passes, but your legs start to feel numb and your back hurts, so you shift your weight which makes Max whine, cock twitching inside of you. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, stopping your movements. 

“No, it’s—just,” Max closes his eyes tightly, and you can see a drop of sweat slipping down his forehead. “You just—” He groans, unable to say what he so badly wants. 

You move from your place on his shoulder, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” Max’s voice is hoarse and the smiles he gives you don't reach his eyes. “Just—lie back down, come on.” He pats your back but you don’t move. 

“Max, tell me.” He shakes his head, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Max, it’s me.”

He sighs, straightening up. His sudden movement makes you both moan. 

“It’s just that,” He takes a deep breath and looks you straight in the eye. “You feel really good.”

His confession makes you want to close your legs which, for obvious reasons, you can’t. You feel your face burning but try to play it cool, like his words didn't have an effect on you. 

“Well, I mean, your cock is inside of me,” 

Max's laugh is strained. “Yeah… I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of this. If you want we can stop and I—”

“Max,” You cup his jaw, feeling the stubble under your palm. “I’m good.”

Max closes his eyes again, this time letting his head fall backwards against the couch. “You know the first time we did this,” He swallows, and you’re mesmerized by the way his Adam's apple bobs. How would it feel to kiss it? “I, God I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud.”

“Max, come on. Just say it.” You let your fingers fall from his jaw all the way to his neck, just above his Adam’s apple. You can feel under your fingertips how it moves when he swallows again. 

“You will think I’m a perv,” He opens one eye, when you smile reassuringly he opens both. “Please don’t think I’m some kind of pervert but… I had to lock myself in the bathroom to,” He shrugs, doing the movement with his fist. 

“What?” You tilt your head. 

“To jerk off!” He says, frustrated. One of his hands leaves your waist to put it over his eyes.

You blink at Max. 

He looks back at you between his fingers.

His confession makes you feel that something you’ve been trying to ignore ever since that first night. 

“That is totally normal.” You don’t want him to feel bad, so reassuring him that it’s okay is actually the only thing you can do. “As I said, you’re buried inside of me, if you didn’t feel anything then that’s a problem.”

Max sounds a little more relaxed when he laughs again. 

But then there’s silence and eye contact. The only sound in the room coming from the TV and your heavy breathing. 

You feel that shiver running down your spine again, desire pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m sorry, I’m making this all awkward.”

“No, no. It’s good.”

Max raises his eyebrows in question. 

You decide not to answer with words. Instead, you shift your hips, Max cock impossible deep inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” Max groans, closing his eyes tightly. His hands grab the cushion by his sides again but you want those hands on your waist, your breasts, all over your body. 

“Max,” You whine, grabbing at his shoulder and feeling how tense he is. 

“It’s okay,” He breathes in and out, just like you were doing not so long ago. “it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

You frown, “Max.” You try calling his name again, when he opens his eyes you can see how much his eyes have darkened.  

Max sucks in a sharp breath when you steady yourself by grabbing his shoulders to lift yourself up, pulling almost all the way out and letting yourself fall back down. Max’s moan is obscene. 

“I’m sorry, sorry, oh God, I’m sorry,” You babble, hiding behind your hands. What the fuck are you doing? “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey,” He calls your attention, taking your hands and pulling them away from your face. Max cups your jaw guiding your face to look at him. “You want this? I need you to tell me because,” Max gaze falls to your mouth and he brushes your bottom lip with the pad of his finger. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

You nod, but then remember that he likes to hear you. “Yes,” That’s all Max need because he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, almost hugging you, and lifting you to pull out and then fuck back in. It nearly leaves you breathless. 

You gasp, grabbing onto him for dear life. It’s inevitable for you to look down and watch how his cock pulls out and then back inside, stretching you so good. 

“Look at me,” Max says, grinding his cock deep inside of you. And you have no choice but to look back up at him. The expression of pure pleasure on his face makes you clench around him, which takes another obscene moan out of him. 

He feels so good. 

You want to tell him how good he feels. How good he’s fucking you but you’re only capable of incoherent sounds, moans and whimpers. 

“Max,” You choke on a moan. One hand leaves your waist and slips under your shirt to pinch at one of your nipples. You actually have to put a hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. 

“I want to hear you. Please, let me hear you.” Max practically begs and how could you deny him that? The next time he does it, you let him hear you. And probably the whole building too. “Good girl.” Your cunt squeezes him tightly as he rolls his hips into yours. “You like that, don’t you? You like being my good girl?”

“Yes, yes,” If you had the strength you would be bouncing on his cock, but you can barely hold onto him as he fucks you nice and hard. “Max, Max.” His name falls like a mantra from your lips. The squelching sound of him pounding into you, mixed with the moans and groans fills the air around you. 

“You feel so good— fuck, so fucking tight.” Max groans into your ear. His thrusts are deep and rough, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and nails dig into his skin, knowing you’ll leave marks that will last days. 

Max leans closer and licks a stripe of sweat from your neck and, somehow, is enough to make you hit your peak. You walls clench around him, like you’re actually trying to suck the life out of him.

“Max, Max I’m so close,” At this point you don’t even know if you’re whispering or screaming, but Max hears you either way.

Max expertly finds your clit and, right on cue, your orgasm comes crashing upon you, warmth washing all over your body as Max keeps on fucking you, searching for his own release. 

“That’s my girl,” Max breathes out, movements faltering. “I’m gonna come, fuck, gonna come inside of you.” Max feels his orgasm like he’s experiencing it for the very first time, like he was waiting for this moment his whole life. And he probably was, really. 

Max squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering and your name falling from his lips as he spills inside of you. Your whole body gives up. You’re glad Max is there to hold you close to his body. He pants in your neck, both of you trying to catch your breath and thinking about what the hell has just happened? 

“Did so good for me, sweetheart.” He whispers, leaving a kiss behind your ear. He doesn’t move more than to settle against the cushions with you on top of him and his cock still buried inside of you. And you feel so dizzy and stuffed full of his cum that the only rational thing you think about doing is to lift your head and kiss him. 

Max whines into the kiss. He doesn’t care that the kiss is messy because you can’t coordinate and are so tired you feel your body going limp, but he lets you kiss him until you need to catch your breath. 

He smiles softly at you. “That was good, uh? I bet you don’t even remember why you came here in the first place.”

“Oh, shut up!” Max likes making you blush, so he won’t ever shut up. 

“You know,” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your neck. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I always wanted to—“ He sighs, and you lean into his touch. Max feels like his heart is about to explode. “I didn’t think I could ever have a chance with you.” 

“What are you talking about?” You squeak because surely he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. Because that would mean— 

“I’m saying that you are,” He kisses your cheek. “the most,” Now, he places a kiss on your chin. “beautiful, and smart, and sexy,” Max leaves kisses all over your face. “girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Finally, his lips find yours, but it’s quick and not enough. You want to keep kissing him for the rest of your life. 

“Max,” You whisper, tears in the corners of your eyes. “You—I,” You groan, letting your head fall against his forehead. “You know I’ve been crazy for you my whole life, right?” 

“No, that I did not know.” He’s teasing you, you hear it in his voice. “Well, maybe I had my suspicions.” 

“Max! You never say anything?” A thought crosses your mind and you feel mortified. “I feel like I took advantage of you now.” 

“What did you say to me? You would’ve told me if you weren’t comfortable. And I would’ve done the same thing.” You pout and Max can’t help but think, again, that you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world. “When all of this cockwarming thing happened, I thought it was the only way I could be close to you. And I was helping you in the process, so I was more than happy with being just that.” 

“I didn’t keep coming back to you because of my feelings,” You start saying, playing with the collar of his shirt. “but because I’ve always felt safe with you. I knew—I know I can trust you. I mean, that became clear when you offered to let me sit on your cock the first time.” 

“I did not do that!” 

“You totally did!” You laugh with your whole body because you’re that happy. But that makes you shift your hips which makes you wince at feeling Max softening cock still inside of you. 

“You good? It wasn’t… too much?” He sounds insecure, you see it on his face too. It’s cute.

“It was pretty good, Max. If not I wouldn’t have let you fuck me.” Max rolls his eyes, chuckling, and you rest your head on his shoulder one more time.

“You want me to pull out?”

“No, just—hold me, okay?” Max makes a pleasing sound, lips finding your temple. 

“Always.”

[livwritesstuff]

happy valentine's day pallies <3 threw this the office-inspired drabble together for funsies over the last few days and thought today was a good a day as any to finally post

“What the hell is wrong with Dustin?” Eddie asked as he walked through the open door to Robin and Nancy’s apartment, “I passed him in the hall and he’s ranting and raving like a goddamn lunatic. Barely even acknowledged me.”

“You got lucky,” Steve shook his head as the rest of the Party, scattered around the living room, gave a similarly over it-kind of response, “Also – hey. Missed you.”

Eddie dropped down onto the couch next to Steve and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Ugh,” Robin groaned from the other end of the couch, “Either get a room or be gross later.”

“Missed you more, my love,” Eddie said loudly and pointedly as he settled in, and Steve ignored the way Robin rolled her eyes as Eddie draped an arm over his shoulders, “So…Dustin? What’s his deal?”

“He thinks he’s never gonna find love,” Lucas said from his spot on the rug, mouth full of half-crunched chips.

“Because he hasn’t dated anyone since Suzie,” Will clarified.

Steve watched Eddie’s eyebrows furrow.

“Uh, okay, didn’t they split, like, a month ago?”

“Yep,” Mike nodded.

“And didn’t Dustin just say last week that he’s happily married to his studies?”

“Dude,” Mike replied, “If you hadn’t been thirty minutes late, you would have seen us ask him these exact same questions.”

“Alright, gimme a fuckin’ break, man,” Eddie protested as Robin stuck a foot out and clipped the side of Mike’s head, “Not all of us are in college, asshole, living our most carefree lives. Some of us have jobs we're societally obligated to hold onto, Michael.”

“Anyway,” Steve cut in before Mike and Eddie’s bickering could derail the discussion too badly, “Dustin is apparently so desperate for love or whatever now that he’s trying to crowdsource a relationship.”

“And we’ve all been drafted,” Max said drily, “He wants us to set him up with someone at least once a month.”

“Each,” El added from beside Max in the armchair they're squashed in together.

“Each,” Max repeated with a nod.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie blinked, “He needs to chill out.”

Eddie got a chorus of agreements in response, plus another snarky comment from Mike about how he could have told Dustin this himself if he hadn’t been late to their weekly movie night hangout, and then from there, the conversation spun into the Party’s usual overlapping pre-movie (waiting for the pizza to be delivered) chatter.

Eddie turned his attention to Steve.

“So who’s the lucky girl you’re siccing our deranged little buddy on?” he asked, voice just loud enough for Steve to hear over the surrounding conversations.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugged, catching Eddie's hand in his and starting to fiddle with the chunky ring on his pointer finger, “I don’t think anyone here is gonna put up with his shit, but…yeah, I dunno, I feel bad. I might try setting him up with Lauren – y’know, Andie’s friend she has over all the time?”

Andie is Steve’s roommate, who took Robin’s spot on the lease after Robin, the woman she is, U-Hauled with Nancy at a spectacular rate (barely a month into her and Steve’s lease). Steve couldn’t exactly blame her – Nancy’s brownstone is leagues (and leagues and leagues and leagues) nicer than the shitty walk-up he and Robin had barely been able to afford at the time. Plus, Robin was all kinds of apologetic about it – paid her half of the rent and everything until she found a suitable subletter.

Enter Andie, a women’s and gender studies major who Robin had met at their school’s SGA during her first semester of undergrad and who leans pretty much as far to the right on the good ol' Kinsey Scale as someone could. Both Steve and Andie had been a little on the fence at first, but as far as living with a half-stranger goes, he can admit that it actually went okay.

Case in point, he and Andie are both a good few years out of college now and neither of them have made any move to, y'know...move.

“Lauren?” Eddie repeated, “You mean, Andie’s straight friend? The one Andie is very actively and overtly trying to woo?”

“It’s not gonna work,” Steve insisted (because this has been a topic of conversation between the two of them for a while), “If she’s straight, she’s straight.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie acknowledged, “But it’s not her I'd be worried about, Stevie.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Steve – it’s basically a lose-lose for you. If Dustin goes on a date with Andie’s straight friend that she is, once again, very overtly and obviously into, whether or not it goes well – whether or not it even happens, Steve – Andie’s gonna find out that you were the one behind it, and you’re living with her.”

“So?”

“Dude, you’re gonna get booted outta your place.”

“No way,” Steve scoffed at him.

“I’m telling you – hell hath no fury like a lesbian scorned. Have you seen Nancy at the bar when someone is trying to hit on Robin? The big guy in the clouds was cutting from the same cloth when he created these ladies.”

Steve rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's brand of ex-Catholic poetic.

“Well…whatever. It’s just an apartment. If Andie really has an issue…I dunno, I’ll just move.”

Eddie grinned at him.

“Oh really?” he says, “And who do you think’s gonna be taking you in? You’re a crazy neat-freak, you think it’s totally appropriate to watch sports during breakfast – I mean, seriously, I get wanting to watch Sunday Night Football or whatever, but listening to recaps before I've had a cup of coffee is borderline criminal – and you've got basically a thousand houseplants.”

“Yeah,” Steve gave a feigned nod of understanding, “Maybe I’ll just move in with my boyfriend – he could use some order in his life.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, straightening a little in his seat, “I’m in if you are, Stevie-boy.”

Steve felt his face fall just a little. He tried to laugh it off, but even he could hear how awkward it sounded, and he glanced around to make sure the rest of the Party was otherwise occupied.

“I mean...," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on their hands so he didn't have to look at Eddie and his ever-expressive face, "I’m not gonna move in with someone unless we’re getting married.”

He really won’t either.

He’d done that before with his first serious boyfriend a few years ago – it was kind of a U-Haul situation in its own right, and it’s how Steve’s apartment became Andie’s apartment that Steve pretty please asked to move back into four months later when everything went to shit with the boyfriend.

(Their landlord had raised an eyebrow at them when they asked to put Steve back on the lease he’d only just left, but he didn’t ask any questions.

“He probably thinks we’re, like, a total dysfunctional couple or something,” Andie had pointed out.

“If only he knew,” Steve shook his head, “He’s leasing to a pair of idiot queers who can’t get their love lives together.”)

So, yeah, the U-Hauling thing may work for lesbians (or, two very specific lesbians whose couch he's sitting on, at the very least), but it’s not for Steve.

He’s a little too intense for it, contradictory as it sounds. He’s been burned in the past by the notion that someone could be willing to take a step as big as moving in with someone, and yet still see their relationship as “unserious” enough to balk at other big things (things like meeting each other’s friends and family, and what to do if Steve had another seizure). He’s not interested in being burned again, thanks.

Not that he actually thinks Eddie would do anything like that – the opposite actually. Steve knows he won’t.

For as long as he and Eddie were friends, Steve had known it in a kind of way he didn't even think about, and he's known it in another way, in a way he couldn't not think about, ever since he eavesdropped on a conversation between Robin and Eddie.

“Steve’s boyfriend is a fucking asshole and I hate him,” Robin had said, because this was back when Steve was dating (and living with) his ex, who did turn out to be a colossal fucking asshole, but this was the first time Steve had heard that particular opinion voiced by one of his friends.

“Shit, okay," Eddie had replied, "Do I need to go kick someone’s ass?”

Robin had paused for a split second before saying, “No. You’d just finally decide to confess your love for him and make everything even messier than it already is.”

They'd both been quiet for another few moments, and then Eddie let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fuck, man, that blows." Another pause. "I just – I don't understand how anybody could get to have Steve like that and not worship every breath he takes. I'm telling you – if it were me, you'd be able to break me down into fuckin' molecules and still be able to find him there. He's the sun in the fuckin' sky, dude. How are people not getting this?"

Steve hadn't been able take any more than that, not without feeling like something within him would split in two, so he had gone back to getting snacks in the kitchen like Eddie and Robin had thought he was doing, and then he'd spent the rest of the night feeling a little nauseous in a way he couldn't explain.

To this day, Steve is pretty sure that neither Robin nor Eddie know that he'd overheard their conversation, but it's what led to him breaking up with his boyfriend nonetheless.

Nothing had happened between Steve and Eddie at first. Eddie had actually been in his own relationship at the time, despite his and Robin' conversation, though they inexplicably split only a month after Steve’s break-up (Eddie never gave the Party a reason why).

Not too long after that though, Eddie had shown up on Steve’s doorstep (in a goddamn rainstorm, no less, the theatrical bastard) to profess his undying love, and by then Steve had spent enough time reflecting on the last several years of his friendship with Eddie and had firmly landed on the conclusion that he was in love with him too.

And so here they are now.

Steve spared a quick glance at Eddie to see that he was wearing a cute, kind of confused look.

“Wait – Steve, have I not proposed to you yet?”

And Eddie's truly dumbfounded tone, Eddie's way of bringing Steve's attention back up to his face so Steve could see the cheeky grin he's still wearing, had relief flooding through Steve's veins and washing away any doubt or insecurity or fear because, as Steve might have let himself forget, this is Eddie.

“I don’t think so…” Steve replied, then he flipped their clasped hands over to show his unmistakably ringless ring finger, “Nope.”

“Huh. Well…look out, Stevie, ‘cuz that’s coming.”

“Oh really?” Steve asked, and now he’s got a big smile growing on his face too, and he ignored the way his heart was thrumming over what Eddie had just divulged to him, how matter-of-fact, how certain he'd sounded when he said it.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie nodded, and Steve is so in love with him it nearly hurts.

“You mean, like, right now?” Steve continued, still feigning confusion, still keeping up the bit like they weren't having a huge, important, real conversation right now, because they hadn’t been together that long, all things considered, and yet Steve wasn’t surprised to hear any of this because he felt it too.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Not right now. Have a little faith, darling. Now would be pathetically unromantic.”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed his agreement, though a small part of him could acknowledge that now – happy and surrounded by all their friends – wouldn’t be the worst way to get engaged, but Eddie hadn't lost any of his flair for dramatics over the years, so he's not exactly surprised to hear that Eddie is picturing something more.

“I got it all planned out, don’t you worry," Eddie told him, looking all kinds of proud, “And it’s gonna knock your socks off, Steve Harrington.”

"Alright," Steve said as Eddie leaned away, leaned back into conversation with their friends, a tight squeeze to Steve's hand his only acknowledgement of the sheer magnitude of the conversation they'd just had, "I've been warned."

[cvrnelians]

in another life (drabble)

yandere/dark!bucky barnes x reader: You meet, fall in love with, and break things off with a time traveler from the 40’s, armed with Stark Tech, capable of traveling to alternate universes. He’s not exactly great at handling rejection.

warnings: kidnapping, implied violence, 18+ only.

The house had belonged to Bucky for years now.

The room was quiet, all but for some oldies music and the crackle of the fireplace. Despite its size, the library was always the epitome of cozy. It was once one of your favorite places in the world. You would spend hours there, curled up on the couch with—and sometimes without—Bucky, listening to his ancient record player, napping, reading the day away.

No matter what was going on in your life, when you were in that library, all felt right in the world. But as you began to slowly open your eyes, groggy and sick, it was clear that things had changed. Your body felt heavy and strange as you sat up, cradling your head in your hands. A dim light cascaded from the fireplace, and even that made you wince. You breathed in through your teeth as you clamped your eyes shut. You slowly opened them again, attempting to adjust to the light. Your head ached. 

The noise startled you, making you sit up straight. 

“I’m sorry.”

You turned and there he was, handsome as ever. He studied you carefully as you shifted around in your seat. He was quiet for a few moments as he stared you down, which shouldn’t have felt as uncomfortable as it did. You had experienced a great many silences from your ex-boyfriend during your time together, so this was nothing unusual.

But something felt different this time.

Something was off.

You hadn’t seen him in months. 

“Bucky?” you croaked. You didn’t sound like you. Your voice was harsh and gravelly, the kind of voice that came to fruition when you hadn’t slept well, or had slept way too much. Just how long had you been out for? And where were you before you fell asleep? “My head…it hurts.”

He cringed at your words. “I know. I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. Nervously, like he feared your reaction. “I tried not to hurt you too badly, doll. I really tried. But I had to get you here somehow. You wouldn’t have come willingly.”

You barely even registered his words. You were too focused on the blurriness of your vision. Even through the fog, you could see that he was dressed formally, strangely so. Vintage. 

“Are you…are you going somewhere?” you asked, squinting at him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, walking closer towards you. He kneeled down on the floor in front of you, reaching forward to hold your hands in his. You looked at him in utter confusion. You hadn’t seen him in months, and now here you were in his house. What was happening? “And neither are you.”

His words snapped you out of your daze, sending a chill down your spine. The little hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You looked at him for a second, at his dark hair, slicked back perfectly. He never did his hair like that. You studied the wrinkles in his forehead, the blue of his eyes. And then you had a look around the room. Everything in Bucky’s house looked newer, somehow. 

Newer and older at the same time.

Unlike the house you were used to, the wallpaper looked flawless. The upholstery was in pristine condition, the bookcases freshly painted, the floor unscuffed. The tv was nowhere to be found. And the record player, that ancient record player, looked brand new. A pit began to form in your stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Bucky’s eyes were wide. Afraid. In spite of his stature, he was afraid of a lot of things. You learned that early on in your relationship. 

“Bucky, where are we?”

He reached forward and brushed your hair away from your eyes. He thought about it for a few seconds, then spoke. “You know where we are.”

You could very faintly hear the sound of voices nearby. Your gaze shifted towards a nearby bookcase. On one of the shelves sat an old radio. A very old radio. You had never seen it before. 

“Bucky…” you repeated. Bucky turned to look at where your line of sight was, noticing the radio. He turned back towards you and ran his knuckles across your jawline. 

“I missed you so much. I…I’ve missed a lot of things. The last few months of our relationship were hard on me. You were so distracted with work, and your friends, and your life and I just…”

Your eyes began to tear up, hands shaking. You knew about Bucky’s time traveling, universe bending adventures. It was a piece of his life you had never been a part of. You also knew he came from the 1940’s.

“You can focus on what’s important now,” he pleaded with you, as if trying to convince you everything was alright. “It’s simpler here, in this world.”

“Oh, Bucky. No…”

“It’ll be better for you here, doll,” he said, holding your face in his hands. “I promise.”

[miguelhugger2099]

Day Two

Summary: You kept all the love you had to yourself for safe keeping. Until Miguel comes along. A/N: did i forget to make more valentine oneshots? yes and what about it Miguel x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Drabble

After failed relationship and another failed relationship, you began to think that maybe love just wasn’t in your cards. Maybe you were always meant to love instead of be loved. It was hard accepting that. You coped with it as much as you could but in the deepest part of your heart you hoped someone could prove you wrong just this once. You’d look in the mirror and try to find something of yourself that someone could find beautiful but you always came up short. The pain was still there, a dull ache that served as a reminder that no matter what you changed about yourself, it was never enough to make them stay. So you stopped trying and you stopped hoping. You lived your life day to day, doing small things that you like and any ounce of your heart speeding up at seeing a stranger was quickly demolished for the safety of your feelings. So that’s why even when the handsome and tall stranger sat across from you at the cafe, you tried not to pay any mind to him. You ignored the way your heart leaped when his foot accidently bumped into yours, his deep voice murmuring a soft apology. You ignored the next few times where you’d sit at your usual spot and he'd sit right across from you either with a laptop, a book or a phone in his hand. You ignored how he always sat with you silently even when other tables were open. You ignored how he eventually ordered the same drink you got every time as if wanting to try it. You ignored how sometimes, he’d be there before you, sitting up straighter when you sat in front of him. You ignored it until you couldn’t. After a long hour of silence, he puts his book down and taps the table to get your attention. “I’m sorry,” He says. “I’ve been thinking you’re very pretty and I’d like to get to know you.” At first you’re repulsed. Not at him, but how he perceives you as worthy enough to know. You don’t understand it. He sees your reluctance and pulls away. “Unless you wouldn’t want to.” Your heart strains in the same ache as before. You don’t want to be cold, you don’t want to be seen as rude or mean because of your guarded heart–not anymore. You yearn for companionship despite your mind screaming at you not to. It’s dangerous. “Okay. Sure.” You speak softly, not used to being approached in a romantic manner in so long. You continue with your naive hoping. Maybe this time it will hurt less.

At first you were awkward with him and he was awkward with you. It seemed like neither of you knew how to start this relationship other than initial attraction. You learned his name was Miguel and that he was studying to be a geneticist at Alchemax. You were fairly good at science, not at his level but you tried to keep up which made him chuckle. You worried you said something stupid but he assured you that you were just cute trying. He invited you to spend a day in the town, just to walk around and maybe buy you things that you liked. You declined his offer, not wanting to come across as some gold digger when Miguel waves you off saying that he wanted to. You refused the entire day. Anything you wanted, you made sure he wasn’t at the register or at least held your card out first. You couldn’t risk him turning on you and claim that you spent all his money. Miguel noticed, of course. Despite your attempts at being more friendly, it wasn’t exactly romantical. That didn’t diminish his interest in you though. It only made him more curious. Who did this to you to make it seem like you couldn’t rely on anyone? So, when he led you to the playground just outside the town, in a park where others were walking dogs and running jogs, he offered you two seats at the swings. The sky was near its point of a sunset, blue slowly turning into an orange yellow that calms your mind. It was a little funny when you turned to face Miguel in his swing seat. His shoulders could barely fit between the chains that held it up and his knees were almost up to his chest. You giggled to yourself at the sight and he turned to give you a sheepish smile, a little embarrassed of how he was most definitely not fit for it.

It was a comfortable silence as you both swung gently just enough for a breeze to flow through. You don’t notice Miguel glance at your hands in your lap and how you’re trying not to pick at the skin at the corner of your fingernails. Miguel sighed and looked at his own lap, as squished as it was. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” He whispers softly. You turn your head slightly to see him in the corner of your eye. He pulls at his pant leg nervously. “I’m not used to…this romance stuff,” He glances up at you. “So I’m sorry if I’ve done anything wrong.” You feel your heart swell in the worst way possible. Your efforts to protect yourself had hurt someone else. “No,” You shake your head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just…I haven’t been on one in a long time either.” Miguel laughs through his nose. “Then I guess we’re both still kinda new to this,” He looks up to the sunset. It’s now an orange pink. “But I’m still sorry. My last relationship wasn’t great. Toxic behavior and all that. I felt like I couldn’t be me. And in some way, I’m still doing that even today with you. Trying to be someone I’m not by being overly…pushy about wanting you to be satisfied with me.” He murmurs. “I didn’t think you were pushy,” You explain, feeling your cheeks burn about opening up. “I’m not used to someone being kind to me because they want to. It’s more what I can offer or what kind of reaction they want out of me.” It’s silent for a while and you begin to think that you’ve messed up again. Talked too much, spilled too soon, you’ve ruined the image he’s had of you.

“I think…you deserved better,” Miguel says, turning to you and reaching for your pinky with his. “I’m still interested and I want to keep seeing you, if that’s okay.” He interlocks your pinkies together softly, giving you enough room to pull away. You feel the ache in your chest lifts just a little bit knowing he’s just as nervous and scared as you are but he still wants your heart even if it’s damaged. You gain the courage to let the love in your heart seep out to him and squeeze his pinky in yours. “Okay.” You smile at him and he mirrors it with his own. It won’t hurt less this time because you have a feeling with him it won’t hurt at all.

A/N: a little self indulgent w this one whew

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Sparks between Us - pt. 8 Pass the Bottle

Pairing: Beetee Latier x Hunger Games Oc

Two former Hunger Games victors, Beetee Latier and Astraea Wren, find themselves navigating a complex relationship while working under the Captiol's grip. Told in a series of drabbles across several decades with elements of a plot.

With the next reaping a few weeks away, Beetee and Astraea will find themselves back in their districts, but not before spending a few long evenings in each other's company. Both characters should be somewhere in their mid twenties now.

Pt. 9 Wiress

Outside the Tribute Center’s windows, the city pulsed with artificial light, and the sounds of citizens still unwilling to call it a night. Somehow, the lights and sounds of the Capitol never fully faded, not even in the quietest hours of the night.

Inside, Astraea and Beetee sat on the floor of their shared Capitol-assigned apartment, a bottle of contraband district-made liquor between them. It had been a gift, or a bribe. They weren't entirely sure, from one of the Capitol officials who thought they could win favor with their “favorite victors.” The two hadn’t bothered with glasses.

Astraea took a slow sip directly from the bottle, grimacing slightly at the burn. “I can’t tell if this is genuinely good or if I’ve just been here too long.”

Beetee grinned as she handed him the bottle. “Aging in a Capitol prison does tend to alter one’s standards.” He took a measured sip, far more controlled than hers, then exhaled. “It’s not bad.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “High praise.”

They had spent the last several nights this way, lingering together longer than usual and stretching their moments thin before having to leave for their districts. Soon, they would be swallowed up in mentoring and the horror of preparing another pair of tributes for slaughter.

Astraea shifted, leaning back on her palms. “You know, it’s funny.”

Beetee arched an eyebrow. “That’s an intriguing way to begin a sentence in a place like this.”

She laughed and continued. “It’s funny how much of a show they make out of us, how carefully they package us together, and yet…” Her voice softened slightly. “They don’t actually see us.”

Beetee’s fingers drummed lightly against the bottle. “They see exactly what they want to. No more, no less.”

She turned her head toward him, studying the familiar lines of his face, which were just starting to reveal his age. How much time has passed since they first met? A couple of years have flown by in the blink of an eye, yet those early moments feel like a lifetime ago.

She tilted her head slightly. “Do you ever wonder what this would be like… without them?”

His gaze flicked to hers, sharp and knowing. “Define this.”

She inhaled slowly. Us. The way we find each other in rooms full of people. The way you answer my questions like you enjoy it. The way I look for you before I even realize I’m doing it.

Instead, she said, “Everything.”

Beetee considered that for a long moment. Then, with a quiet hum, said, “I imagine we’d still find ways to challenge each other.”

A smile danced on her lips, pleased by his reply. “So you think we'd find each other even without the Capitol forcing us together?”

“I'd say it was an inevitability.”

She smirked, nudging his knee lightly with hers. He didn’t move away. Neither did she.

Silence filled the air between them again until Astraea glanced at him. A gentle warmth spread across her face before she spoke. Was it from the alcohol?

"Can I share something with you?" Her voice was hesitant, almost tentative in a way he wasn’t accustomed to.

Beetee paused, surprised. Normally, she was an open book with him, unfiltered. Whatever thoughts or frustrations crossed her mind, she typically let them spill out. It was one of the things he appreciated about her: that rawness. Thus, the fact that she was asking for permission was... unusual.

"You're asking me now?" he teased playfully, raising an eyebrow. "This is new; you usually don’t ask for my consent.”

Astraea shrugged, her lips curling into a small smile. "I know. Surprising, right? I thought I’d try something different for once." Her tone was playful, yet a flicker of something more serious gleamed in her eyes.

“Sometimes I feel guilty about how much I enjoy our time together. When I return to District 5, that house in Victor’s Village feels empty - more a space than a home. It’s so…eerily quiet, filled with lingering memories that haunt me. One that reminds me this was never a reward. And now, here we are year after year, entangled in their world, while the things that truly matter are elsewhere." She looked at him, assessing his response. "You should be with your family, Beetee, not here drinking with me in a city that thrives on keeping us chained."

Beetee exhaled deliberately, setting the bottle between them with careful precision, as if gauging his answer. "That guilt you're experiencing?" He looked at her, his voice steady yet sharp. "It’s misdirected. The Capitol is the one holding me here, not you. They created this machine, Astraea. We're merely the cogs trapped within it."

He leaned back, tapping a reflective rhythm against the floor. "And if I’m being honest, I don’t entirely hate the time I spend here." He gave her a sidelong glance. "You make it tolerable,” he paused, shaking his head. “ No, more than tolerable. You make it worth something."

She tilted her head slightly, skepticism creeping into her expression and seeping into her tone. "You’re telling me you enjoy being drawn back into this circus?"

Beetee let out a dry laugh, still shaking his head. "Enjoy is a strong word, but let’s say there’s merit in discovering something genuine in a realm built on deception." He met her gaze unwaveringly. "I find that, like me, you’re different from everyone else here. You don’t buy into it; you don’t allow it to control you. That’s uncommon. It means this," he gestured vaguely at the space between them, "is one of the few things here that doesn’t feel like a rehearsed performance."

She studied him briefly before exhaling a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Well, that’s not what I was expecting to hear."

She took another sip from the bottle before handing it back to him. "I suppose I should be flattered. Though, if I’m the best part of this whole arrangement, that’s a pretty damning indictment of the rest of it."

Beetee’s fingers brushed against hers briefly as he took the bottle, his smile sharp, wry. "It is a damning indictment. But that’s the truth, isn’t it? The Capitol assumes it can dictate what matters to us. That we’ll just accept whatever they give us as reality. But you and I both know better."

[merakiui]

the idea of rollo staying at NRC in ramshackle will forever remain soooo fun to me especially with all the other characters freaking out about it HAHA thank you for blessing my dashboard with it <3 it's incredible. maybe one day i'll write a little drabble abt that idea but i'm currently 18.000 words into a rollo/reader longfic (and not even halfway done yet. yippee! what burden did i put on my own shoulders... OTL) and i don't wanna write anything else until i have this monstrosity finished LMAO but if you have any other rollo at nrc ideas pspspspsppspsp thank you

Good luck with your Rollo fic, anon! I know how it feels to subject oneself to long fics, so I wish you all the best with your writing process!!!

As for Rollo at NRC, allow me to share a few thoughts:

✧ Rollo braving the busy cafeteria line when they’re selling the bakery goods once every month. He insists on doing this because he doesn’t want you to get trampled by ignorant mages who don’t know how to be respectful! He always returns with your favorite, sometimes even forgoing the chance to get his own favorite item because you’re way more important to him than a croissant.

✧ PE class with Rollo, but he offers to do the same exercise routine Vargas has created for you since you can’t exactly fly on a broom. He’ll run laps on the track with you (even though he’d rather not) just to be beside you so you won’t feel left out. The two of you slack on sit-ups and push-ups when Vargas isn’t looking, usually just sitting cross-legged in the field and talking about anything and everything.

✧ Since you’re comfortable with letting Rollo stay and sleep in your bed, the two of you will lie on your sides and occasionally whisper to each other through the darkness, mumbling about simple things like tomorrow’s weather, or the next alchemy exam, or how you should both spend this upcoming weekend. Grim usually has to get up and lie between the both of you so you’ll stop talking, but with each nightly conversation Rollo loosens up a little and even seems friendlier and warmer to you and Grim. You think you might’ve heard a genuine chuckle when Grim had gotten up and moved between you, all while sleepily complaining about how neither of you will shut up. Rollo won’t admit it outright, but ever since he started sleeping beside you he’s found that sleep comes much easier now.

✧ Rollo doesn’t like mages, but he’s deemed himself the only mage safe and capable enough to be around you. So when you’re dejected that you can’t experience what it must feel like to fly on a broom he offers to show you without thinking. But then Ace and Deuce are offering, and now Rollo really has to commit to his promise. Ace is too carefree with his flying and Deuce gets too nervous sometimes, so they’re definitely not suited to take you up into the air. Rollo never really thought that something so normal as flying on a broom would appeal to someone who’s never seen or heard of such a thing before, but once he’s in the air with you—and you’re wrapping your arms firmly around him to hold on—he hears the breathy excitement in your voice as you wave and yell down to your friends below. Rollo almost confesses to you right then and there because the sky is the only place private enough for a sudden confession, but he holds his tongue and smiles softly instead. You’re cute when you’re happy.

✧ Rollo likes to study in the library with you, either in one of the alcoves or at a table in the very corner. The two of you might get interrupted by whoever happens to stumble upon you, and it’s annoying when you ask the intruder to stay and study alongside the both of you. But he’s always rewarded after every moment spent with you when you get sleepy and lean against his shoulder, using it as a pillow. Your relationship has become really friendly and casual lately, which is a bond Rollo thought he’d never be able to have. But oh the pride he feels when he looks at Ace or Azul or even Riddle and can see them withholding an envious comment.

✧ When you first took Rollo into the town alongside some friends, wanting to show him around in the same fashion you’d been shown around many months ago, he finds himself thinking about all of the places here that could serve as good date sites. Naturally, taking a walk through the town could be a date in itself, but he sees the cutest restaurants and cafés and shops. And he makes a mental note to return with you next time so that he can properly immerse himself in the atmosphere and pretend it’s a date with only you.

✧ Rollo is there for you if you ever get homesick, much like how you’re there for him when he recalls his past and has to fight tears and sadness so he won’t burden you with such feelings. Rollo doesn’t experience hugs often, but ever since he transferred to NRC you’ve always offered a hug when he looked tired or lonely or saddened. Rollo had pushed you away each time, but when he’s particularly emotionally vulnerable he’ll pull you into him and never let go, holding tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

✧ Stargazing with Rollo when neither of you can fall asleep. Maybe you’re plagued with confusing dreams, maybe it’s his insomnia, or maybe the both of you are kept up by Grim’s loud snoring. Either way, you’ll meet each other in the hall and just silently agree to watch the stars in hopes of getting sleepy. Sometimes you’ll sit at the window; if it’s not too chilly outside you’ll grab a blanket and sit out there, the both of you wrapped up, your gazes turned skyward. Sometimes you’ll talk about deep topics. Sometimes you’ll just wordlessly admire the sky. Sometimes Rollo thinks of telling you he loves you, of reaching out to turn your head towards him so you can taste the confession on his lips. But instead he chooses to admire the brightest star in his world: you.

[hopewritcs]

hopper x reader #47?🙏🏼

“EPIPHANY MOMENTS.”

pairing: jim hopper x f!reader

song: epiphany.

notes: i say a “drabble” except i wind up with something longer than 1k words because the song simply demanded to be listened to and gave me such a muse for a longer story... i am so sorry ( seriously? but also i am not ). please enjoy. set pre & post s4 timeline -- that will make sense when you read. 

word count: 1.5k

part of spotify wrapped drabble night : accepting !

Had you been away from home for so long that you didn’t recognize Hawkins any longer? Or was it just that the town was absolutely destroyed that there was no way to really see the Hawkins that you had known. The past twenty-four hours were some of the worst you had experienced. 

While getting phone calls late at night were not unusual, you worked in a hospital--you weren’t a nurse or a doctor or even a technician like you had planned so many years ago in school--just a secretary for one of the medical suites open twenty-four seven, and your hours ranged so some nights you worked the overnight shift. 

It had been one of those nights when the phone rang in the office and you picked it up, like you would normally, but before you could even say who you were the words came flowing out of the other end on top of each other like there were several people on the line. 

“When was the last time you heard from your parents?” 

“Is there a spare room open? Turn on a tv to any of the news stations!”

“I think you need to get back to...”

“What about the guy?” Followed by a couple of shushes. 

“She said it would be a cold day in hell before she went back.”

“Well if...”

“Just turn on the news!” 

You didn’t know what they were talking about at all. When was the last time you’d spoken with your family back in Hawkins? You looked at a clock and realized you barely remembered the time. 

The last time you were in Hawkins was in 1983, and Will Byers had just been found. 

Hawkins 1983. 

It was home, and you were back to keep everything simple while you were in medical school -- the dream was to be a doctor someday. Everyone had known that while you were growing up in Hawkins, a couple of years behind Jim & Joyce in school but still friends with them. You’d been working as an EMT, spending a lot of time with the police chief now that you were back in town. 

He was not the same man you knew growing up. Then again, you weren’t the same person you were back then either. 

Maybe that was how you’d wound up in this back and forth with him, on and off. In a constant state of not knowing exactly where you stood with him. On reflection when you look back now you know you could have, should have talked about it--but you just didn’t. 

It was fine at the time, because you were so busy with work both of you that neither of you seemed to care about the relationship or the feelings under the surface. 

But, you couldn’t keep that buried forever. 

As the time went on, with Will being missing, it was hard to balance life in the small town as well as work and school and your feelings. Something had to go. 

Despite everything, it was your studies that suffered the most, in your attempts to help Joyce get through everything -- but you never told anybody that. 

Once Will was found, you moved away from Hawkins hoping to get away from everything that was a distraction. 

That included Jim, or so you thought.

Chicago, 1984. 

“Hey, newbie, there’s a phone call for you on line 2.” One of the nurses called over her shoulder as she put paperwork down on the counter in front of you. “He sounds handsome.” 

You had only been working at the hospital for six months at the time, so the nickname of newbie was kind of old. But it was said with affection with the nurse who spoke to you just then, not like some of the others who regarded you--a med school drop out, who was working the night shifts as a secretary while she worked her way through nursing school--as little more than a glorified paper weight. “If it’s the guy down in transport, tell him I’m ordering out for my break.” 

But she hadn’t left where she stood, tapping on the paperwork she had dropped off for you to sort through and looked impatient for you to answer the call yourself, “Come on, just answer it. I swear it’s not the guy down in transport. He says he knows you from home.” 

You looked up from what you were doing and paused at that, there weren’t many people who you had even given the information of your job from back home -- family, Joyce and her sons. Panic flashed in your eyes as you picked up the phone and the flashing number when you answered with your name and a rushed, “Who is this?” 

“Hopper,” came the quick reply of the gruff voice on the other end. You could picture him, probably with a cigarette in his mouth or fumbling with the case on his desk or whatever table he was near. “It’s Jim.” 

You have a lot of questions, but all you can manage to get out is a, “Hi.” 

“Hey.” he said back, and there’s a long silence, but you could hear him breathing. “I got a couple of questions about, uh, kids.”

“Wouldn’t Joyce be better to ask these things? She, y’know, has two, Jim.” 

“She’ll ask a lot of questions.” 

“I can’t promise I won’t ask any questions.” 

His laugh took you by surprise. You’re not sure the last time you heard it, and the smile that came on your own face because of it was just so natural. 

Damn it, you missed him. 

“I don’t know if I can answer all of your questions.” Jim said back after a moment. 

“Ditto.” you let you a small laugh of your own. “But I’m at work now, can I give you a call some other time? Is your number still the same?”

“Nothing’s changed, Y/N.” 

And there was so much more to that statement than either of you were ready to admit at the time. 

“I’ll call you in the morning. Goodnight, Jim.” 

After you hung the phone up it was like you remembered the world was around you. The nurse who had told you about the phone call was still standing by you and looked at you when the phone was hung up and was practically giddy with excitement. “Told you it wasn’t the guy from transport. But who was he?”

You held out your hand and looked at her, “Just give me the paperwork and let me work. Maybe I’ll tell you about him on my break later.”

It was the beginning of talking for the two of you. Just about anything and everything. You didn’t realize how much you had missed him, and pulling into the town you called home for so long made you think of it all. 

The summer of 1985 had been the culmination of a lot for you. You finally finished nursing school -- but had to make a decision between moving farther away from home to a place where you didn’t know one in an attempt to find a job, or keep the job you had and get a raise with the hopes of possibly getting a better position in the future. And, you were still talking to Jim every day, it was...surprisingly nice -- he continued to mention his daughter Jane. 

You were making plans to even go back to Hawkins sometime after the graduation from your class, after fourth of July craziness. 

Pulling into the familiar driveway of the Hopper house it was hard to think that you had planned to be here nearly a year ago and never managed to make it back. 

You thought he had died. You had lived with that feeling, that grief and those emotions for so long, and then the news station your old coworkers had called you earlier was showing him ( and sure, everyone else ) and it was like your heart stopped. 

It was like you had been pulled to Hawkins because you needed to be there. Needed to know what was going on and what to do. Had to be there. 

You’d wasted enough time without Jim Hopper, and having lost him once, you’d be damned if you were going to lose him again. 

When you pulled up, you could see that he was on the porch, almost like he’d been expecting you despite the fact that you hadn’t called anyone. Hell, you’d barely made it until the end of your shift and you were still in scrubs when you got out of the car and looked at him from a distance, shielding your eyed from the sun in the distance. 

The first time in three years seeing him, and he looked entirely different and altogether like the same man you knew. 

You wondered if he was thinking the same thing about you. 

With a half step away from the car, a move mimicked by Hopper as he walked down the porch of his home, you called out to him, “I don’t know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself and this town into Jim, but this time I’m going to stick around and help you out.” 

That was a promise. 

[statticscribbles]

Open Date

Summary: Drabble, Sweet Pea/reader/Fangs, how they form a relationship/crush/date 

Fangs is always glancing back from you to the ground and you almost want to walk up to him and just shake him. You know he has a crush on you; you know that anyone who’s seen him, knows he has a crush on you. What you can’t figure out is why he’s refusing to say or do anything that would get you to notice him or actually go on a date.

Sweet Pea is not glaring at you, but you’re not sure what to make of the way you catch his eye more often than not. It started after you noticed Fangs and you wonder if maybe Fangs talking about you had made Sweet Pea notice you more. Either way he catches your eye across the room and smirks at you. You turn away hiding your blush, annoyed slightly; at least when Fangs stares and makes you blush he looks away before you have to hide your own face. Sweet Pea doesn’t ask you on a date either and you’re left wondering if it’s some weird Serpent thing that neither of them can ask you; maybe it's a bro code, and you’re supposed to be the tie breaker. The more you watch them interact the more you realize you don't want them to make you pick.

You come to the conclusion that you want both Fangs and Sweet Pea and you’re dreading trying to confess to one of them, let alone both; on top of the fact you’re trying to figure outfit you want to talk to them at the same time ordo it one at a time right before each other and then just try to let them figure it out. You’re also dreading where to do it; you were thinking somewhere public because you didn’t want them to feel trapped but you also don’t like the idea of anyone eavesdropping on the conversations; especially if it goes badly.

Sweet Pea takes that choice from you asking to talk to you, slightly nervous and you follow him into the deserted student lounge. Fangs isn’t there and you’re worried there’s going to be a very awkward rejection followed by Sweet Pea trying to set you up with Fangs.

To your relief Sweet Pea is hovering by the door and fangs rushes in before he closes it.

“Listen Y/N”

“Go out with us?”Fangs spits out before Sweet Pea can say anything. Sweet Pea glares a little but nods.

“Out?”

“Yeah like to pop’s..”

“To study?”

“No a date, with both of us.”

“Both of you?” Fangs looks nervous when you question that and you’re about to explain how you didn’t think they’d both want to have anything to do with you but Sweet Pea seems to take a hold of the conversation before you can say anything.

“Before he interrupted me I wanted to say, that Fangs and I are dating; we’re both polyamorous, and we uh, both like you, enough to want to date.”

“To date me at the same time; and being like open about it?” You ask and Sweet Pea nods but Fangs chews his lip.

“We can get Pop’s and talk about it at my place.” Sweet Pea puts out and both you and fangs nod at him.

”So what exactly is going on here?” You ask once the door to Sweet Pea’s trailer is closed.

“Like we said in the school we’re poly and interested in you.”

“I got that, but why me?”

“You’re hot? We like hanging out with you when we’re with everyone so hanging out with you together, or as a couple would be just as good.” 

“Thanks for the compliment, and alright; so what are the ground rules? How do we split up time? Do we need a schedule?”

“Well how about we each take you on a date, just the two of us, and then do a like group date after?”

“Sounds good.”

“Good you free this friday?” Fangs laughs when you nod.

Both the individual dates had gone well so you weren’t as nervous for the date with both of them; although the thought of it being in public was increasing your nerves about it.

Fangs had been the one to walk you to Sweet Pea’s from school and you were worried about people talking that the two of you were together; as far as you knew nobody was aware of either of the dates you’d gone on with Sweet Pea or Fangs.

Sweet Pea’s blushing a tiny bit when you knock on the door. Fangs is blushing as well, and you try to avoid thinking about the picnic that Sweet Pea had set up on his table.

”That was lovely.”

“Mhm, so we need to have a serious talk; Fangs and I have some ground rules, and suggestions for all of us. If this is something you want to pursue with us.”

“Us as in both of you and myself dating right?”

“Yes, me, you, and Sweet Pea all dating and doing things like Jughead and Betty do; well minus the gang fights.”

“I’d hardly call Betty calling in the Serpents a gang fight; just her being spoiled and wanting to get her way.”

“Fair point but okay, so the main thing is are you comfortable being public and open about this?”

“To the school?”

“Mhm, to everyone.”

“Yeah; I’m comfortable with it; I’m assuming you've brought it up to the Serpents already?”

“Yeah they know we're uh, interested in someone else and are happy to support it as long as it’s something we’re all on the same page about.”

“Okay so the rules?”

“Well we all have to be comfortable with what the others want in public, which for Fangs and I is kissing, hand holding; calling each other pet names; making a point of telling people we’re all dating.”

“I have no problems with that.”

“Good, do you have any questions or things you want?”

“Did you both get a crush on me at the same time or was it one after the other? Did you like me for the same reasons?”

“That’s what you want to know?” Fangs is laughing and Sweet Pea just rolls his eyes fondly.

“Yes!”

“Okay well…”

“Sweet Pea had a huge crush on you, I was surprised you didn’t notice him staring; I’m pretty sure he drooled once.”

“Fangs did as well, he made fun of me and was like ‘well at least we like the same girl so being open isn’t a problem’ and he full on panicked about what he’d said cause he wanted to have a proper talk about it instead of just making jokes, cause he was so serious about you.”

Support My Writing?

[yoonjinkooked]

Chemistry | JHS (6 (pt 1))

Part 6 - Just Do It

(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU, smut

Warnings: blonde Hobi (yes, that’s a dang warning), heaps of dirty talk, public groping, lots of sex discussion, them being responsible adults and getting tested before doing it, cursing, drinking. It ends on a bit of a cliff hanger cause this is just an intro of the smut fest that the next chapter will be Also, IMPORTANT: the ‘Spring Cleaning’ party that I am describing is fictional (that I know of at least) and I BEG OF YOU, please don’t mix your drinks. Just don’t. It won’t end well. Don’t mix drinks, don’t drink and drive, don’t drink what a random person gives you and never ever ever leave sight of your glass. Please. Drink responsibly and stay the f away from it if you are underaged. That also means you need to stay the f away from this story, too 💜

Word Count: 3k

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

A/N: Again, DRINK RESPONSIBLY! The smut fest part 2 is coming super fast (no pun intended). Unedited, so please forgive me, I needed to get this shit out to you and i just need more Hobi. these are drabbles after all lol

“I’m clean,” Hoseok informs you with the widest grin possible. “Got the results emailed this morning. 100% clean and ready.” 

 You don’t register his words at all - first of all, he had startled you, appearing directly in front of your path, probably seeing you from afar, making your way to the study hall where the first class of your day takes place. And on top of that, you are way too shocked with his appearance to even bother understanding the words he was telling you. 

 “You’re… you’re blonde,” you mumble as you stare at his hair, wondering if it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Sunlight makes hair lighter, doesn’t it? It doesn’t make it almost platinum, though. Looking him over, you realize that nothing else has changed - still the same height, still the same weight, still his signature casual but colorful clothing - but the blonde is there and it’s magnetic - it’s impossible to look at anything else before your eyes are glued to his new hairstyle again. It suits him so damn well. If someone had told you he’d look this good blonde, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

 “Oh, yeah,” he waves his hand off, laughing, as if it’s a completely irrelevant thing. Honestly, to him it might be, but not to you. “More importantly, I am clean,” he repeats his earlier words and this time around, you do get to properly register them, as well as the meaning behind them. Clean. Safe to have sex. No worries in that department. You should be overjoyed but not only are you still hypnotized by his sudden change of looks, you’re also refusing to focus on that particular information. 

 It’s weird - you did stuff, discussed even more, agreed on everything. You blushing at him informing you that it’s finally safe for him to fuck you and finish inside you is weird. 

 “You’re blonde,” is all you can say, and it earns you an eye roll from Hoseok. 

 “Oh come on Y/N,” he whines. “If you’re going to be like this just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

 “Hey!” you snap, smacking him on the shoulder in retaliation, which only makes him laugh. “Have mercy on me here, give me a moment to get used to this new look of yours. If I showed up with a completely different hair color, would you be able to focus on anything else?” you demand, absolutely positive that he’d be equally as lost as you are. 

 “If you telling me that you’re clean and we can finally fuck, yeah, I wouldn’t be focusing on hair, even if it had all the colors of the rainbow in it,” he answers honestly. 

 “Okay, okay, we get it, we’re on the same page - you’re stupidly hot, clean and want to fuck,” you laugh at him, although you would be a fool to deny that it’s getting to you - the way he is so upfront about liking you and being attracted to you is impossible to ignore - it makes you feel a lot more confident than you have felt in a long while. 

 “Oh Y/N, you know me so well,” he acts as if he’s genuinely touched and it’s this reaction that makes you melt and laugh. No matter the hair color, no matter how casual he references his intention to get his dick inside you, it’s Hoseok. And that’s all that matters. “Seriously though, we both have our results so whenever you’re ready, if you’re still up for it…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the raise of his eyebrow says it all. 

 “I’m not missing out on that piece of ass if that’s what concerns you,” you joke, looking him up and down as you speak. It’ll never cease to amaze you how he can whisper the dirtiest things to you, or even say them casually out loud, but turn as red as a tomato when you do the same thing. “What are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” you ask. 

 “Aren’t you going to Namjoon’s?” he frowns in confusion. “Spring Cleaning party season?” he reminds you and starts laughing immediately, probably at your look of realization mixed in with disgust. “Is this about Namjoon or about the Spring Cleaning party season?” he laughs. 

 What you guys refer to as spring cleaning is exactly what it sounds like - all the leftover alcohol that somehow managed to survive the past year is gathered in one place in the ‘bring-your-own-booze’ manner. It’s usually a mixture of hideous drinks and half empty bottles and once it’s all gathered, you make it even worse, combining it into borderline poisonous mixtures. Everyone attending and everyone drinking does so on their own responsibility, fully aware of how the night might end. 

 A year ago, it was still fun. Now, you know you’re too old for that shit. 

 “It’s about both,” you answer Hobi’s question in a whine. “I don’t wanna deal with wasted frat boys who’ll spend half the night throwing up and Namjoon is insufferable.” 

 “Namjoon is one of your best friends,” Hobi laughs. 

 “I know - that’s why I’m well aware of how insufferable he is,” you grunt in annoyance. “I know it’s tradition and all but can we skip all of that? Coochie in exchange for avoiding a party we’re too old for anyways?” you suggest. 

 “Wait,” Hoseok’s eyes widen and you can imagine a lightbulb turning on above his head. “You think Namjoon’s insufferable?” 

 “Incredibly so, yes.” 

 “And you want to make his life a living hell in retaliation?” he continues asking. 

 “Absolutely,” you reply in a heartbeat, despite loving Namjoon like he was your family. You adore him but you cannot stand him at times and ever since this little thing with Hoseok had started, he had not stopped teasing you. It’s time for him to suffer. 

 “Hear me out,” Hoseok moves closer to you, as if he is about to share a conspiracy theory that no one except you is allowed to know about. “How about we go to the party and stay there a bit - laugh at the idiots, dance to bad music - just a regular Thursday. And then, when the shitshow starts, and it will start, we go upstairs and seal the deal?” 

 “You want us to fuck in Namjoon’s house?” you start laughing. 

 “Is there anything that would annoy and traumatize him more than knowing two of his closest friends fucked in his house?” he points out. 

 “Yeah, if he walks in,” you burst out laughing. “Honestly, sold. Fuck it.” 

 “I plan to,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you in the most sleazy manner possible - jokingly, of course. He knows he has you hooked and he can play around with it. And you’ll love it. 

 “Ugh, stop doing that,” you laugh, smacking him on the shoulder again. “Don't try too hard, you already have me, blondie.” 

 “I look that good, huh?” he laughs, hitting the bullseye. 

 You don’t answer that question - you offer him nothing more than a smile and a shrug before you slowly walk past him and make your way to a class you’re probably already late for. He knows you enough to realize that to you, yes, he does look that good. And you cannot wait to find out what other things he can do to you, hoping that the movie is as promising as the trailer was. 

  Standing across the room, Hoseok keeps his eyes glued to you, the same way he did from the moment you entered the house. You aren’t hiding from it either - you make direct eye contact with him, smiling in a knowing manner as you listen to whatever it is that Taehyung was yapping on about. You tried to listen - you really did, at first. But the problem is that Hoseok’s very presence demands your attention - it’s something you can’t control. If he’s around, if he’s in the room and if you have this feeling of the two of you alone knowing something, knowing this secret about what’s going to happen tonight - no one else stands a chance, not even your friends.

 “Are you seriously ogling Hoseok while I’m asking you for relationship advice?” Taehyung sounds exasperated and you feel guilty - even more so when you realize that the only reason he did manage to get your attention was because he had mentioned his name. 

 “Ugh, I’m so sorry Tae,” you don’t try to defend yourself, knowing you’re guilty as charged. “My mind is a mess, I’m a useless friend. I just… can’t focus on anything else,” you admit sheepishly, not really wanting to go into details. They know that something is happening and that’s it. You don’t want to share more, neither does Hoseok, nor do you think any of your friends is particularly thirsty for details. Except perhaps Jimin, but tough luck for him. 

 “Then go!” Tae urges you and for a moment, you think that he is angry at you - the urgency with which he said it makes you wonder if he’s pissed with you for not listening to him carefully - but when you look up at him, you see his signature smile. He’s not angry - he’s cheering you on. “Go and get your guy!” 

 You want to  sigh, roll your eyes and remind him that Hoseok is not your guy - but in a weird, fucked up way that only you and him understand, he kind of is. It’s you he’s looking at - not any other girl, and there are plenty. It’s you he’s had his eyes on ever since he first saw you - it’s you he’s waiting for. 

 So you go for it - the same way you did the night it all started. Without thinking twice about it, you approach him, walking through a crowd of people to get to him - his eyes follow you every step of the way, standing straighter as you finally get to him, mere inches separating the two of you. 

 It’s electric. The feeling between the two of you, it’s purely electric, making you wonder if he’d burn to the touch if you were to reach out. In your mind, he always was the epitome of the Sun, so it wouldn’t be no surprise. You notice his smile despite not breaking eye contact - he smiles at you with them too, the signature wrinkles appearing on the edges. 

 “Well, don’t you look lovely tonight,” he tells you, giving you a quick once over. “Black has always suited you.” 

 “Now’s the time when I say something quirky yet charming like, ‘it matches my soul’,” you joke, laughing along with him. “Thank you - I had to dress in my finest, seeing as it’s a special occasion after all.” 

 “Is it?” he laughs. “I thought it was just a Spring Cleaning party.” 

 “Hoseok…” you shoot him a warning glare. 

 “I’m just messing with you,” he laughs, pointing out the obvious. “Can I… kiss you?” 

 This question takes you by surprise - you have decided to be public with whatever the hell this thing is - simply to avoid confusion, especially since you’ve agreed that you won’t be sleeping with other people while this deal of yours is standing. It’s a nice surprise, though - the fact that he still wants to ask, the fact that he is making sure that you are comfortable with it - whether it’s with the kiss itself or it being in public. It warms your heart to know that even though you had never planned any of this with him, he ended up being the right choice. 

 “Hobi, honestly, we’re past the point where you need to ask,” you admit, wanting him to know that you’re not going to back out and that you do feel comfortable. 

 He says nothing, instead deciding to kiss you immediately. It’s slow and gentle, lazy and languid, in a way that shows no rush or urgency. It’s obvious that he is enjoying it, and so are you, every move of his tongue against yours, every breath of yours that mingles with his. To the two of you, the rest of the room no longer exists - the sounds toned out, the people long forgotten. It’s almost as if it’s you and you alone - and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You move your body closer to his, anchoring your hands around his neck as you press against his front - as you have found out, making out with Hoseok has plenty of merits, and one of the bigger ones is simply the feel of his body against yours. 

 His hands wander, slowly and likely aware of the audience around you - it’s highly unlikely that anyone spared you more than a glance, but despite what it feels like in your mind, you are definitely not alone. So when his fingers graze your ass, he doesn’t grab it firmly like you know he’d like to - he simply rests his hand there, with pressure that promises that there’s more in his mind than a simple touch. You know very well that if the two of you don’t slow down soon, he’ll pop a boner in the middle of Namjoon’s kitchen and even though you’re hardly keeping this a secret, that would likely be a bit too much for him to handle. 

 With your mind heading in that direction, you begrudgingly stop the kiss, but you don’t move too far away from him - your hands still around his neck and his hands still on your ass. For what seems like minutes, neither of you says a word, simply looking at each other, your eyes scanning the face of the other - the way his lips are wet and how he nervously licks at them, the way his cheeks also changed shades (and you know alcohol is not to blame for it) and the glint in his eye that likely mirrors yours, with both of you knowing what’s in the other one’s head. Tonight is the night, the night you will finally seal the deal. 

 And if all goes well, start something that will make you explore things and areas you dared not speak of, much less try them before. All of it, from the sweetest and most romantic to the nastiest, kinkiest shit imaginable - you want to do it all with him and it’ll start tonight. 

 “So...” You start, in what you hope is a sexy voice. “Are we going to go and piss Joon off by fucking in his house?” you ask, making sure that the sexy voice you’re trying to use is also low enough for no one else but him to hear. You take it a step further, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want to suck you off before I ride you until I can no longer hold myself up. Then, I want you to fuck into me with all that strength you have and fill me up, watch the cum drip out of me and then watch me finger it back inside my cunt.” 

 Pulling away just in time to see him swallow a lump, you move one of your hands from around his neck, down his chest and stomach, very slowly, before grazing it over his already noticeable growing dick - you don’t tease him more than that, knowing that even though you might not feel them, you likely do have eyes on you by now - you simple careers the area where his jeans are starting to stand out, a sign of his eagerness that completely mirrors the way your underwear is sticking to your core. Both of you are horny as all hell and if you don’t act on it soon, you’ll jump his bones right here, right now, on Joon’s kitchen sink. 

 “How ‘bout I use my fingers to push the cum back inside you and when it dribbles out again, I eat you out until you want to scream my name but you can’t, ‘cause you’re sucking on my fingers, licking every drip of cum left on them?” he suggests and you for a second, you think your knees are going to give out and you’ll fall flat. You don’t, likely because he still has his hands pressed to your backside. 

 “Oh, I’d want nothing more,” you shamelessly admit. 

 “Then we’re not doing it here,” he announces, laughing at the immediate sulky reaction it elicited from you. “Don’t be like that, it’s better if we go to my place,” he chuckles at you, gently squeezing your butt. “I want us to enjoy the night, go for as many rounds as our bodies can take and then do it again in the morning. We can’t have that here while some freshman is doing a keg stand and anyone can walk in on us at any second. We can piss Joon off later - but it’s the first time we’re gonna do it and damn it, I wanna do it right.” 

 “You wanna do it right?” your eyebrows rise. 

“I could stand here all night and list all the things that I want to do to you, and you to me, and still remember more on the way home - and we’ve already discussed a bunch. I want to treat you good and give you the best fuck of your life - I promised as much and I want to deliver. We can fuck in Joon’s house any other day, honestly.” 

 “Do you want to… use something tonight?” you ask, pressing your hand against his crotch a little bit harder this time. “I have some toys back at my place but we won’t be alone there.” 

 “Nah,” he shakes his head immediately. “I have my cock, mouth and fingers - I don’t need much else to make you want to never do anyone else. We’ll have plenty of time for all the toys - and when I say all, I mean all. I’d go for anything with you.” 

 “If you keep talking like that, I’m just going to cum right here, right now,” you admit. 

 “While that would be a sight for sore eyes, I have other plans. Let’s go,” he takes you by the hand and away you go, making your way through the crowd, not caring if anyone notices how quickly you’re leaving or how you’re walking hand in hand. 

 You simply don’t give a shit, at all. All you care about is Hoseok right now - his dick, mouth and fingers and all the things he plans to do with them. 

[nishinini]

♡ distractions | s.jake

⤅ au: after the breakup | the first hello - caffeine buzzed (2/3) ⤅ pairing: park sunghoon x reader ⤅ genre: fluff | drabble | cafe!au | angst if you squint ⤅ warnings: none ⤅ total word count: 590 ⤅ a/n: this is reposted !! ⤅ caffeine buzzed, the others: sunghoon | jay

You were quite the sight when Jake first saw you in that cafe sitting at a table in the corner. Amidst all the chaos and chatters, somehow you had managed to catch his eye. Your laptop was in front of you paired with what seemed like hundreds of books and thousands of papers spread out all over the table. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, you had three cups of coffee, two of which were empty while the third was half-finished. Your fingers were typing furiously on the keyboard while you were muttering to yourself. The entire cafe was filled with your booth the only one with an open spot so it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he could sit across from you, right? Making his way to you,

“Hey,” he said. You looked up from your laptop, continuing to type as you responded, to the distraction. You didn’t like distractions.

“Hi?” It came out as more of a question than anything.

“Can I sit across from you?” You looked around the cafe and upon realizing that it was filled,

“Yeah, just uhh, move whatever’s in your way.” As Jake sat across from you only needing to slightly nudge a few books and papers, he got out his own laptop. While he tried to stay focused on his own work and having to study for his own upcoming finals, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at you from time to time. You were so caught up in your work doing something different practically every second.

“How the hell do I do this?” he heard you mutter. Your laptop had now been shut and you were working on a worksheet of,

“Physics?” he asked. You looked up at him, eyes wide as if you had forgotten he was even here.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Naur, you’re good. I’m good at physics, I can help if you want?” A smile made itself known on your face,

“I like your accent,” you said. Neither of you knew exactly how long the two of you stayed at the table while Jake helped you with your physics review but what you did know was that it was a little too long due to how you two ended up being the last people there. You learned that Jake was easy to talk to and that it was easy to make him laugh, by the first meet you had learned that he was practically the human embodiment of a golden retriever. Despite having different classes and attending different schools, you and Jake had agreed to meet up at the cafe after school to study with each other until finals were over. During the times when Jake got there before you did, he would buy you a (non-caffeinated) drink and would say that despite just meeting you, he knew that you had already consumed enough caffeine to last an entire lifetime. When you’d get there first, you’d buy pastries for the both of you. It didn’t take Jake long to learn that you were focused on whatever your goal was and you weren’t about to let anything get in the way of it. You were focused on trying to get into a good college and didn’t like or tolerate distractions. While you and Jake got into a relationship for some time, he ended up as a distraction with how he often asked you out on dates his constant wanting to go out. You didn’t like distractions and Jake ended up being one of them.

♡ main masterlist || navi

[cno-inbminor]

a/n: drabble dump for our boy kuroo -- i love him loads and think about him endlessly. i also apologize beforehand for the awkward ending bc i’m terrible at ending things. hope you all enjoy! gonna go knock back a melatonin and sleep my wooziness away

w/c: ~2.4k; some angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol

you’re avoiding tetsurou, and he’s keen on figuring out why. college!au, friends to lovers.

“you’re not as slick as you think, y’know.”

instantly, a shiver creeps up your spine, electrifying you in quick, tiny bursts. those eight, nine words were more than enough to let you know who was standing behind you, peering over your shoulder in an effort to catch your gaze. his voice made your heart clench and lungs fight for oxygen – you begin to curse the high, intellectual level of tetsurou’s observational skills. you just wanted to make it another day without seeing his face outside of class, opting more for longer walks and just looking back to see the back of his stylishly mussed hair in the far distance. it frustrates you how much you’ve used the word ‘infuriating’ when it comes to him, but there’s no other better word you can think of without having to consult the thesaurus.

you have a few seconds to dart your eyes around, desperately searching for a way to escape. your productivity typically thrives within the library, but he’s always there, so with lots of pleading and promises of baked goods and decent coffee, you were able to borrow a close friend’s ID, a graduate student, and access the graduate resource room in a less traveled hallway. and in the expanse of that area, you’ve tucked yourself away into the back corner behind some shelves where almost no one visits. but it leaves you cornered and vulnerable – no matter which direction, in combination with his long legs, tetsurou would catch up to you in a heartbeat. you thought you had finally found a way to permanently escape his grasp, but apparently not.

much like you, he’s not supposed to be able to access this area. after all, you’re both senior undergrads so –

“how did you get in here?” you quietly hiss. you’re pretty sure you’d be booted out if you made any sound above 15 decibels, and you’re not about to let tetsurou ruin this haven for you.

there’s a rustle of clothing, a hand that rests on the back of your seat, and the hairs on the nape of your neck spike, before a delicate whisper informs, “you’re not the only one with grad student friends, love.”

if you weren’t so focused on keeping yourself rigid, body absolutely understanding of the effect that this man has on you, you definitely would’ve shivered from the proximity. but the gentleness in his tone sends you back to three weeks ago – you’re no longer under a fluorescent light tucked between cream-colored walls, but rather basked in a somewhat garish hue of crimson. your veins were tinged with alcohol, the substance leaving you feeling like you were on clouds, a silly smile breaking across your face uncontrollably. other bodies surrounded you but the only one you were focused on was the one in front of you, following your swaying movements to the beat of the music coming through someone’s speakers. even in the warmth of the house, tetsurou’s hands on your waist seared your skin, branding the feeling on you for eternity. his eyes twinkled with apparent affection, unbridled and screaming at you for you to understand the line he wanted to so desperately cross, that the alcohol pushed it behind his efforts to deny himself the one thing he’s been searching for in all these years.  

“i’m a little drunk, but fuck, you have no idea how bad i wanna kiss you,” he had murmured just loud enough into your ear, then ghosting his lips over the shell of it. everything around you dissolved into a blur as you could only focus on his breaths and the tightening of his grasp on you. his confession wasn’t completely unwarranted – not at all.

tetsurou and you had met in the quantitative analysis lab freshman year, having been assigned as partners for the semester just by how the ta’s drew the seating chart. he was a friendly, kind soul – had saved your ass multiple times from overshooting your titrations, prevented multiple beakers and graduated cylinders from falling over, always down to compare numbers to help ensure that neither of you were fucking up too hard.

coincidentally, the two of you were registered to the same ochem lab the next year and immediately gravitated towards each other, grateful to find some familiarity in all the anxiety. he witnessed your breakdown mid-lab, did his best to comfort you and salvage your sample so there was enough for recrystallization because you somehow got landed with a shitty, leaking separatory funnel, and stayed back with you when you had fallen behind in the cleanup process. from then on, it was a weekly habit to study together and work on your lab journals and reports together, not taking long to become close friends.

tetsurou did his best to keep his growing feelings at bay, knowing that you had explicitly mentioned swearing off relationships as you tried to figure out your future first. he wasn’t oblivious enough to think that you didn’t feel anything for him whatsoever – you were stubborn and tenacious at best. the house party at miya atsumu’s was simply a suggestion for the both of you to relax after a brutal midterm in your inorganic chemistry course, to let loose and treat yourself. he really hadn’t meant to say what he said, but just looked so good, so lovely and beautiful and enthralling, and you were looking at him like he hung the stars and moon in the sky – he knows he’s sent that same look to you multiple times when you weren’t looking, completely sober and unfazed.

he couldn’t stop himself from leaning close into you that night and you hadn’t stopped in – he knows he should’ve resisted, but feeling your soft lips against his was easily one of the top ten highlights of his college career, and his love for you only surged beyond his hold, overwhelming him to the point where all he could think about was nothing but holding your cheek in the palm of his hand so he could get a better angle and let himself indulge just this once.

that’s all it was – kissing and kissing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor until there was no more oxygen left in either of your lungs. like a decent human being, he dropped you off at your apartment and bid you goodnight, hoping that you wouldn’t forget all the events that had transpired. and maybe, just maybe, he wished that you would let it happen again, that you could make him the exception in your plans.

evidently, you did remember it, because suddenly your responses to his texts were delayed and dry. you were picking up extra shifts, showing up to class at the very last minute, and leaving as soon as the professor dismissed you, allowing practically no room for him to make small talk. and while he would usually pass you in the halls of the chem building at some point, you were always too far from him and scurrying away in a different direction. tetsurou did his best to give you your space, but the less he saw of you, the more nervous and frustrated he grew. there was a wrench thrown into his daily routine, and your presence had always managed to bring some peace to him. so when he realized that you had truly abandoned your usual study spot in the library a week and a half later, he set himself on a mission to find out exactly where you were hiding.

it honestly had been sheer luck that he saw your figure ducking around into a hallway he’s never bothered to go down, and by the time he caught up, the door to the graduate resource room had just closed on your and there was no way he could get in without some help. luckily, his mentor who had stayed at the university for their phd was pretty nonchalant about letting him borrow it for a few days, preferring to study at home or in a coffee shop off-campus themselves.

he knew that since you were hiding, you were probably going to be in the most inconspicuous spot possible. so while there was some time dedicated to navigating the new maze of an area, he immediately felt a sense of relief when he saw your back hunched over your notes, hair tied up into a messy bun, and your laptop open with a spotify playlist.

after you’re done reminiscing, you begin to pack your stuff up, opting to just nor respond to tetsurou and ignoring the pleasant sensation that his term of endearment for you brought. he pulls back and stands straight to give you some room, but the tapping of his foot against the tile floor speaks to his blooming agitation at your silence. you’re still wordless as you weave between the shelves to the exit, knowing that the man plaguing your dreams is not far behind. the game of ‘follow the leader’ (or is it ‘cat and mouse’?) continues until you both have exited the main door, and right before you can walk down the granite steps, tetsurou seizes the opportunity to run ahead of you and stand in your way.

“tetsu, please,” you sigh, avoiding his piercing stare by fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket. “is there something you need?”

“you can’t play coy with me,” he chastises, bending down slightly in hopes that you’ll finally look at him. “you know why i’m here.”

it’s a bad habit of yours to nibble on the inside of your lips when you’re searching for the right things to say. tetsurou only picked up on it just last year – the action itself is very subtle to the outside viewer, and he hadn’t been paying close enough attention back then. “don’t bullshit me right now.”

“do we have to do this now?” you whine a bit.

“yes, or else i’m never gonna get you to talk to me. come on, you don’t do this, love.”

“what do you mean?”

“you’re running away. that’s pretty cowardly, don’t you think? you’ve had 3 weeks—”

you start to walk forward and around his tall, lanky figure. “i’m not humoring you with this—”

“with what—”

“—you’re doing that provoking thing, you’re trying to get me to think that i’m wrong in avoiding you—”

“so you have been avoiding me—”

“i said not now!” you protest in a raised voice, path once again blocked. tears of frustration are beginning to build in the corners of your eyes, and you’re cursing yourself for feeling so weak in this moment. part of you wants nothing more than to run into his arms.

it’s dead quiet for a few seconds – the ambient noise of the wind and the occasional passing car this late at night fail to make themselves known over the pounding of blood in your ears. only tetsurou’s first knuckle underneath your chin to raise you up grounds you, and you can no longer avoid his gaze. small crests of guilt wash over you as you recognize the uncharacteristic brokenness in his eyes – the last three weeks must’ve been much harder on him than you thought.

“just hear me out for a few minutes, okay? you can make your decision then.”

he takes your nod as a signal to continue, but also softening a bit at how nervous you look.

“i’m in love with you,” he softly confesses, a smile of defeat gracing his complexion. “and i have been for a while. i don’t think i’m bullshitting when i say i think you feel something for me, too, but i knew it wasn’t in your plans. didn’t wanna push or force you into making a decision when you weren’t ready. so i held back – but i couldn’t help it at the party, and…i’m sorry, love. i really am.”

tetsurou doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your eyes. “so does that mean you regret it?” you bite out, nails clenching and digging into the fabric of your jacket sleeves. he shakes his head.

“i don’t regret kissing you at all – it’s all i’ve wanted to do for the last two and a half years. but i’m just sorry that i did it without your explicit, sober permission. i went against your wishes in a time of vulnerability, and that’s pretty shitty of me – i’m not gonna excuse myself either just because i was a little drunk, so i hope you’re able to forgive me.”

he watches you sniffle and fight the grin that’s trying to creep across your face. “someone had their shot of respect women juice this morning, didn’t they?” you chokingly tease.

“five shots directly injected into my veins, every morning,” he jokes back, thumb sweeping over to catch your falling tears. “but i mean it though – i’m really sorry.”

“you’re forgiven, and i appreciate that more than you know. but if i’m being honest…it was something i’ve wanted to do for a while, too. i was just really scared because it was so unexpected and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for our relationship to change, or like if i would be emotionally available enough for you, y’know?” you blubber, hand reaching up to rest against his on your cheek.

“hey—”

“i really want this to work out.” tetsurou can hear your voice shake, and he’s sure you’re almost trembling. “you’re one of my best friends – i can’t lose you, tetsu. and what about grad school? what if we end up too far away from each other and video calls aren’t enough? what if you get tired of me or—”

“i know you hate it when i interrupt, but honestly (y/n), you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. i’m gonna do everything i can to make this work, too, mmk?”

“okay,” you whisper. “okay.”

his thumb gently sweeps back and forth against your cheek for a little bit before speaking up again. “not to ruin the moment, but do i have permission to kiss you now?” his eyes shine despite the midnight sky, and you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your chest.

tetsurou swears up and down that your kiss in response is much, much sweeter than the one at the party, and he can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.

[spencers-renaissance]

💫Moreid Masterlist

GIF by @criminalmindsvibez​

Hurt/Comfort or Angst with a Happy Ending

🌊Still Left With the River

Derek wakes up to find his boyfriend crying on the sofa. Cue the hurt, the comfort, and the fluff.

1.6k, hurt/comfort, fluff, caretaker!derek, autistic spencer, crying, sad spencer

🌳Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that’s ever happened to Spencer.

3.2k, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, fighting/making up, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

🍓A Chronicle of Loss

5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

3.6k, grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

🍯Honeysuckle

The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

2.3k, whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

🌙The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

4.5k, high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

🔥The Insistent Burn of a Falling Heart  - part two

Derek is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, and he can't even escape him at home, since they're living together while they study at Cal Tech. He's resigned himself to a miserable, Spencer-less fate until lasagne, bad memories, and a whole lot of crying bring the real truth out into the open.

4.2k, hurt!spencer, fluff, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, getting together, college au, first kiss, misunderstandings 

💔let him be soft (and let him be mine) part one // part two

After Derek pulls another self-sacrificing stunt at the culmination of their most recent case, Spencer runs out of their apartment as he desperately grapples with how it makes him feel. (Collab with @criminalmindsvibez​! You can find her complimentary edit here.)

2.4k, hurt/comfort, crying, abandonment issues, injured!derek, hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective!derek

🪦how the cold numbs everything but grief

Six days after Emily dies, Spencer finds himself soaked in freezing water, catatonic on the bathroom floor. Only Derek can ease the roaring, burning, demanding agony of this grief.

1.2k, grief/mourning, emily’s ‘death’ in season six, hurt!spencer, hurt!derek, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending (serious tw for grief here)

✨storm-darkened or starry bright 

Spencer contracts HIV. It all falls apart after that.

6.5k, angst, illness, hurt!spencer, hurt/comfort, worried derek, depression, mutual pining, getting together, angst w a happy ending

⛈this heavy humanness

Spencer leaves the oven on overnight, and Derek - whose pent-up emotions get the best of him - loses it, exposing secrets neither of them expected to be spilled, for two very different reasons. They get there in the end.

3.9k, est. rel., past abuse, arguing & making up, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication hurt spencer

💤I turn and reach for you

Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

2.1k, nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations

Pure Fluff

🌒when I fall asleep (it is your eyes that I close)

Spencer’s not been sleeping, and as much as Derek adores his sleepy clinginess and physical affection, as soon as they get home he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

1.9k, fluff, hurt/comfort, sleep-deprivation, clingy!spencer, physical affection, anxiety, cuddling

🎄A Christmas Like This

Spencer has a very specific plan for their first Christmas in their new house, and it has to be absolutely perfect. Derek’s going to do everything in his power to make his boyfriend as happy as possible, even if that means a house covered in garlands and a tree covered in animal skeletons…

2.9k, fluff, christmas fic, est relationship, neurodivergence, romance, domesticity, day in the life

💍my heart talks about nothing but you

Derek finds Spencer staring longingly at dancing newlyweds while on a case and once he gets to the bottom of why he’s tasked with making a proposal to a man who knows it’s coming special somehow. (He pulls it off.)

2.5k, established relationship, hurt/comfort, minor angst, fluff, relationship discussions, proposal, protective derek

✨I told the stars about you - part two

Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it. (Prequel to above fic.)

2.1k, first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

🎂I can’t hold enough of you in my hands - part three

Derek and Spencer are finally getting married and the rest of the BAU are there to help them through every step of the day. Including a little surprise that Derek has up his sleeve for their first dance. (Third part to the above two fics.)

3.1k, tooth-rotting fluff, marriage/wedding day, team as family, team dynamics, domesticity, paternal hotch, maternal alex, just a whole lotta love man

🔪Shovel Talk

Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

1.5k, fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

📚I’ll (Never) Know What It’s Like Not to Love You

Spencer finds his old journals in the attic, and he and Derek reminisce on the days they used to pine for one another. Luckily, those days are over, and they have forever ahead of them.

1.3k, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, past mutual pining, past hurt!spencer, cuddling & snuggling, late canon

Getting Together

🌨Even More Beautiful

The BAU is stuck in Michigan with no case and no way home, so naturally, Spencer and Derek confess their love for one another. (Based on the prompt ‘You look even more beautiful covered in snow.’)

3.5k, fluff, love confessions, shy spencer, insecurity, hurt/comfort

🎧Hear it in the Silence

A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

3.7k, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, dev relationship, tw past abuse, domesticity

🎅🏼Secret Santa

Penelope rigs the BAU’s Secret Santa game to finally get Derek and Spencer together with extraordinary success, and they have her to thank for their future first date. Oh, and a sprig of mistletoe nearly throws the whole thing out the window.

2.8k, fluff, getting together, insecurity/anxiety, christmas fic, first kiss, misunderstandings, friendship

🌳The One Constant

Derek wakes up after having his appendix removed with temporary amnesia from the anesthesia, and Spencer certainly isn't prepared for the man he's pined after for four years to a) not recognise him, and b) start flirting with him. It all works out in the end, with a little help from Hotch.

4k, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, insecure spencer, flirting, getting together, misunderstandings, first kiss

☕️i’ll retire my bones to make you tea and read you poetry

Derek doesn't exactly expect to invite a sleepy Spencer over for a movie night after a case, but his blinding smile in response makes him happy he did. The kiss they share the next morning makes him even happier.

3.6k, fluff, getting together, cuddling, insecure!spencer, pet names, mutual pining, light hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions

Embarrassed!Spencer Drabble

A misunderstanding at a BAU get together has Spencer embarrassed and a long-awaited kiss finally happening.

1.2k, fluff, angst, getting together, first kiss

AU

📚100

Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

2.1k, library au, fluff, meet-cute, pining, shy spencer, coming out

💣Mayhem

Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it’s Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

4.2k, canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff, declarations of love

🧑🏻‍🦽 dry me off and hold me close

Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing

5.7k, so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, chronic illness, slice of life: disabled edition

💐I’ll bloom for you (while my heart still cries)

(Based on the age-old tumblr prompt) "Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery and today you've caught me and insisted on coming with me to make sure the 'girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft' and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard."

3.7k, fluff, meet-cute, au: student spencer, fbi agent derek, hacker penelope, grief & mourning, shy spencer, getting together, mutual pining

🌖This Gravitational Pull

Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

2.9k, fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Sparks Between Us-pt. 7 Quiet Moment

Pairing: Beetee Latier x Hunger Games Oc

Two former Hunger Games victors, Beetee Latier from District 3 and Astraea Wren from District5, find themselves navigating a complex relationship while working under the Captiol's grip. Told in a series of drabbles across several decades with elements of a plot. * there's no demand for this, but here we are 🫡*

Beetee and Astraea slip away for a quiet moment during a victor gala. This is set directly after the last chapter.

Pt. 8 Pass the Bottle

The speeches had ended. The mandatory toasts had been made. The victors, scattered among the glittering crowd, continued their carefully managed performances while the Capitol’s elite laughed too loudly, drank too much, and pretended that the next reaping wasn’t lurking just weeks away.

Beetee and Ashe had long since perfected the art of appearing engaged while saying very little of consequence. After making the necessary rounds, they had drifted toward the ballroom’s edge, near an opulent balcony overlooking the glowing Capitol. A few other guests lingered nearby, but none close enough to overhear.

Astraea leaned on the railing, letting the cool air cut through the suffocating warmth of the ballroom.“If I have to pretend to be impressed by another Gamemaker’s ‘genius,’ I’m going to throw myself off this balcony.”

Beetee, uncharacteristically light, joins her at the railing. “Afraid, I've been contracted to be a step ahead of you,” motioning to the glowing forcefield humming just below them.

She looks down, acknowledging the preventive device. “Too bad.” Dismissive of the intrusive thought. “All that aside I’d say the evening went about as well as it could.”

Beetee took a measured sip of his drink. “No casualties. Minimal suffering. An acceptable outcome.”

She hummed in agreement, idly tracing patterns along the rim of her glass. “We’re getting awfully good at surviving it.”

Beetee studied her for a moment before responding. “Survival has always been our specialty.” But at what cost.

She turned slightly, meeting his gaze, noting something in his voice. She couldn't tell what exactly from his tone. Something that didn't quite sound like bitterness, not quite a resignation, but perhaps something close. It was a quiet understanding that this was all still a game. It's a different kind than the arena, but a game nonetheless.

Feeling the weight in the air, she decided to lighten the mood. “At least we got to attend together this year. A stunning Capitol power duo.”

Beetee let out a soft chuckle. “A title we never asked for.”

“No, but I dare to say we wear it well.”

She glanced down at their interlocked arms, a Capitol-mandated display of camaraderie that had lasted long past the cameras. Habitual now. She hadn’t let go. Neither had he.

She tapped his sleeve with two fingers. “You clean up well, by the way.”

His lips quirked. “You almost sound surprised.”

“Oh, I’m definitely surprised.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “And yet, somehow, I continue to tolerate you.”

She grinned. “Must be my charm.”

“Mm. Or my patience.”

“Or,” she said, shifting closer just slightly, “because you've grown fond of me.”

He exhaled, not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “A dangerous accusation.”

She raised a brow. “You’re not denying it.”

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled them back to reality. A well-dressed Capitol official strode toward them, no doubt ready to engage in more polite conversation.

[gukyi]

if i told you (post-script) | jjk

summary: now that you and jungkook are together, all you have left to worry about are your finals. and while finals have never been merciful, at least you always have jungkook to lift you up. 

{established relationship!au, college!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff word count: 1k warnings: finals week *mr krabs meme* a/n: thank you to @cherryjiminiee​ for commissioning me for this drabble and for donating to the #blacklivesmatter movement !!! still wishing that this fic was my life.

Jeon Jungkook finishes his very last computer science final on the second-to-last day of the spring semester. 

You know this mostly because he had been complaining about having to take it for the week prior to the actual exam, dragging you out to the always-open library on campus to study at three in the morning when neither of you can sleep. You also know this because Jeon Jungkook calls you the moment he leaves the auditorium where he was taking it, and you are already well aware of what he’s going to ask of you when you pick up. 

“How’d it go?” You respond, shutting your laptop and hopping off your bed. 

“It wasn’t a total disaster,” Jungkook says, always looking on the bright side. “But… it wasn’t great.”

“There’ll probably be a curve,” you assure him. Computer science classes have never had a good track record of being easy or yielding independently high grades. 

“There better be,” he huffs. “I need at least a B in this class to keep my GPA.”

“If you totally fail, you know you can always go back to being a rent-a-boyfriend,” you tease. Not that Jungkook would ever consider doing that again, even if the pay was good and he reaped massive benefits, like free food and clothes. Your phone is squished between your ear and your shoulder as you shove your feet into your sneakers and grab your backpack. 

“Hey, you get me for free, so keep your mouth shut,” Jungkook counters, a giggle bubbling out of your mouth in return. “Anyway, come over? We can watch Studio Ghibli and eat kettle corn.”

“I’m already on my way.”

When you speed walk, you can make it to Jungkook’s apartment in seven minutes, including the time that you have to wait crossing a major roadway with traffic lights that take forever to change. You get there in eight and a half because you’re distracted by a club selling roses to commemorate the end of the semester, picking one up on your way. 

You knock on the door once before it opens to reveal none other than Jungkook, who looks every bit the beat-up-by-finals-week college student he is, under-eye bags down to his knees and a ratty old t-shirt with tomato sauce stains all over it. But he’s smiling, and his tired eyes light up when they see you, and he’s perfect. 

“I brought you something,” you say cheerfully, whipping out the rose you had been hiding behind your back. “Yoga club was selling them along the walk.”

Jungkook’s eyes scrunch up when they see the flower in your hands. He takes it between his fingers, and in one fell swoop breaks off most of the stem, so that only an inch or two remain. Gently, he places it above your ear, turning it until it’s just right, before beaming. “Beautiful,” he says. 

“So, you got Kiki’s Delivery Service lined up or what?” You ask, barging into his apartment, feeling the soft petals of the rose rest softly against your ear as you walk towards his bedroom. Jungkook doesn’t believe in televisions since they apparently have an uncanny resemblance to microwaves (as if his laptop doesn’t) and because he watches everything on his computer anyway. Besides, a bed is much more suitable for cuddling than a couch is. 

“What? I was thinking we’d start with Spirited Away,” Jungkook says, jogging lightly to catch up to you. When you reach his bedroom, you notice a hoodie of yours lying on top of his comforter, clearly having just been worn. 

You love his bedroom. Not in the sexy kind of way, because there’s this one part of Jungkook’s bed that feels inexplicably like cement, but in the way it feels like it envelops you, surrounds you with everything Jungkook is, everything that makes Jungkook Jungkook. There are framed vinyl covers on the wall of his favorite old bands, a couple pieces of workout gear in the corner. His closet is open because he does not fear demons popping out to get him in the night, and it’s filled with worn flannels and baggy black pants, perhaps a university hoodie or two. The tiny bookshelf in the corner holds all of his used textbooks, post-its and markers sticking out of the top if he ever needs to go back and reference something. It smells like him, woody and boyish and warm, like home. 

It feels like a constant hug from him. 

Avoiding the cement part of his mattress, you quickly settle down on top of the comforter, demanding he grab a blanket and join you. Jungkook does so with ease, making sure to take his laptop with him, as he curls up next to you with a fleece blanket covering your bodies. Knowing the two of you, and knowing that it’s May, you’ll almost definitely abandon the blanket five minutes in, but the feeling is comforting nonetheless. 

Jungkook puts on Kiki’s Delivery Service because you always wear him down, and you pay attention for the first ten minutes before Jungkook decides that resting it on his lap is annoying, and he would rather let it play in the background as you wrap yourselves around each other. 

“How did your finals go?” He murmurs into your hair. 

“They were alright,” you say back, head resting on his chest. “I totally crushed my sociology final, but I’m a little nervous about my political science one. It was just one giant essay for three hours. I filled up two blue books.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Jungkook asks. 

“It’s not if my point got lost in all of the words,” you say with a sigh. That’s the danger with essay exams. You can only bullshit part of the way. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sure you did wonderfully.”

“You’re just saying that,” you tease.

“Because I know it,” Jungkook says fondly. “You’re my smart-as-hell girlfriend, of course you kicked ass.”

You grin. Jungkook always knows exactly what to say. “How’d yours go, then?” You ask him. You may have had essays to write, but computer science is on another level of college hell. At least, that’s what Jungkook says. 

“I’m banking on the curve for all of my classes, but I’ve done alright so far this year,” Jungkook tells you. 

“Couldn’t have been as bad as the midterm, right?”

“Oh my God, that midterm ruined my goddamn life. The average for it was a 37. A thirty-seven! That’s like, just over a third of the questions correct. How can professors make tests knowing that it’s impossible to get every single point. Don’t they want their students to succeed?”

“The great mystery of college,” you muse. “But you were above the curve, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, with my 46. Big whoop,” Jungkook huffs out. 

“Now who’s the one worrying for nothing?” You counter, reaching your head up so you can place a kiss on his cheeks. He blushes something fierce every time you do, you’ve noticed. Like he still can’t believe you’d ever want to kiss him. The jokes on him, though, because now that you’ve gotten a taste, you’ll never want to stop. “My genius, future tech CEO boyfriend. I’ll never have to work a day in my life so long as you’re around.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Jungkook says. “First I have to be employed.”

“The rent-a-boyfriend thing is still on the table,” you joke, making Jungkook shove your head away the next time you go in for a kiss. “Hey, don’t reject me! This could be a good business proposition for you. Oh my God, you could make an app with all of your computer science knowledge! Jeon Jungkook, your personal, moldable fake boyfriend.”

“You’re just gonna sell me out like this?” Jungkook asks, accosted. 

You grin. “Only because I know that at the end of every night, you’ll always be mine.”

“You’re cheesy,” Jungkook tells you (just in case you didn’t already know that), wrapping his hands around you and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“You love it when I’m cheesy,” you say back, grinning against his lips, because he does. “And even when I’m not, you love me then, too.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook says, pretending to think. While he does, you steal yourself another kiss, making his cheeks turn red again. “I guess I do. But only because you love me, too.”

The end of the semester brings both pain and relief, the joy of finishing another year, the despair of a finals week to accompany it. But you know that, no matter what time of year it is, no matter what day of the semester it is, whether it be the seventeenth, the ninety-eighth, or the second-to-last, you will always have Jungkook by your side, ready to take on the next.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget i’m still taking commissions!

[eulaties]

FRUITS BASKET FIC RECS ★ YUCHI ★ #15

fics that have an asterisk (*) in front of them are my personal favorites! also, all of the fics listed are completed unless otherwise stated.

NOTE: these are fic recs for the ship yuki sohma/machi kuragi.

this list was last updated on 12/30/20.

if you want yukeru fic recs click here

if you want general fruits basket fic recs click here 

***this is as easy as lovers go • one-shot

SUMMARY: “a bodice ripper? you never struck me as the type.” or: yuki runs into machi at a bookstore. the resulting interaction isn't what he would call a date, exactly, but he wouldn't not call it that either.

TAGS: fluff, humor, first date but not really, coffee shops, bookstores, mutual pining, yuki waxing poetic about machi’s eyes, their dynamic is just >>>, bantering, background kyoru

NOTES: i can say without a doubt that this is my favorite yuchi fic :) the writing is just *chefs kiss*

dive deeper for you • one-shot

TAGS: yuki telling machi about the curse, post-canon, communication, fluff, we stan healthy relationships

*a soft place to land • one-shot

SUMMARY: “yuki doesn't like being alone when it's dark.”

TAGS: thunderstorms, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, so cute!!

mismatched socks • one-shot

SUMMARY: “yuki listens with amusement as machi explains this new method of dealing with her anxieties.”

TAGS: fluff, established relationship, post-canon, humor, we love machi!!

puzzle pieces • one-shot

SUMMARY: “yuki reflects on his relationship with machi, and whether he should finally tell her the full truth about himself.”

TAGS: established relationship, healing, introspection

another use • one-shot

SUMMARY: “yuki shows machi another use for her school uniform.”

TAGS: post-canon, time skip, established relationship

CW: implied smut but nothing explicit happens in the fic

reunion • one-shot

TAGS: fluff, established relationship, short drabble

valentine’s day • one-shot

TAGS: gift-giving, fluff, humor, pining

white day • one-shot

TAGS: gift-giving, mutual pining, fluff, humor

NOTES: the sequel to “valentine’s day”!

she blushes ten shades of obstreperousness • one-shot

SUMMARY: “it's still uncomfortable, but together they'll accept this newfound intimacy: the simple action of a hug.”

TAGS: post-canon, established relationship, fluff, hugging

i want to hold your hand • one-shot

TAGS: mostly humor, fluff, mutual pining

*seasons we’ve seen together • one-shot

SUMMARY: “finding each other and falling in love was not something they thought was possible for them. but as the seasons passed by, it became easier. yuki and machi - and few moments of them being together.”

TAGS: mutual pining, fluff, cheeky yuki feat. flustered machi, falling in love

housecleaning • one-shot

SUMMARY: "neither yuki nor machi are particularly tidy individuals.”

TAGS: fluff, humor, established relationship, drabble, post-canon, time skip

*the fragile art of knowing • one-shot

SUMMARY: “there's a giant, open, gaping mouth inside of machi’s chest, and it's constantly screaming. she feels like she's being torn apart from the inside, raw, like something is trying to claw its way out through her ribcage, stealing every breath from her lungs as it goes.”

TAGS: angst with a happy ending, introspection, machi character study, fluff, canon-compliant, manga spoilers, slow burn

*so desired • one-shot

SUMMARY: “he notices it: in their texts, their calls, their silences. in bed just as the clock ticks to one thirty-eight in the morning, when he imagines machi curled against him, her heartbeat resting on him. he feels the deepest of aches within his chest, a yearning he has never felt for tohru.”

TAGS: post-canon, established relationship, fluff, yuki is in college

*the power of your intense fragility • one-shot

TAGS: angst, fluff, they’re soulmates your honor

*the sun shines and fights for your day • one-shot

SUMMARY: “machi didn’t get harassed or catcalled often. but that didn’t mean it never happened. or: machi is rescued by the two youngest members of the zodiac.”

TAGS: post-canon, found family, manga spoilers, fluffy ending

CW: implied sexual harassment, verbal abuse

small steps forward • one-shot

TAGS: nightmares, hurt/comfort, angst, discussions of yuki’s childhood

CW: implied child abuse, mentions of contemplating suicide

*in all fairness • one-shot

SUMMARY: “yuki works on the garden in the backyard of his and machi's home. his son looks awfully like him.”

TAGS: post-canon, time skip, yuchi as parents, discussions of childhood trauma, light angst with a happy ending, fatherhood, fluff