#and it’s not like me talking about it with someone who didn’t even work there caused her to get fired but i still feel so bad

[icepopstar5105us]

“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”

#fanfiction #danny phantom #ghost king danny #danny fenton #clockwork #frostbite #pandora #oneshot #fanfic #dp fanfic #johnny 13 #oblivious danny fenton #just a little fluff #hint of angst #mostly fluff #fluff #secrets #things found in my google drive #hope you enjoy #yay #found family #ancients #ghost zone #not sure what to tag this #canon divergence au #gen #soft fic #short #short and sweet #clockwork is kronos

[kedsandtubesocks]

game changer

MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.

Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.

It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.

Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.

Now you’re here.

“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.

The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.

The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.

Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.

You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.

“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.

“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.

Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.

You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.

You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.

Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.

Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.

“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.

The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.

You understand why.

A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.

Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.

He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.

It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.

And he really is incredible.

Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.

Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.

He’s gorgeous.

But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.

So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.

At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.

After that the Rangers switch pitchers.

As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.

It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.

Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.

Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.

You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.

The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.

“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.

You shrug easily with an eased grin.

After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.

You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.

Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.

You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.

Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.

No way.

Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.

He’s knockout beautiful.

Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.

He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.

“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.

“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.

But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.

“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.

Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.

Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.

You’re the one early thanking him.

“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.

“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.

Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”

“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.

Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.

“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.

For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…

Just your dad’s pal.

The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.

You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.

Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.

Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.

“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.

“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.

“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.

However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.

“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.

From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.

“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.

“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.

“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.

But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.

Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.

“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.

With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.

Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.

“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.

You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.

With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.

Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.

Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.

You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.

This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.

The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.

Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.

Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.

Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.

You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.

Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.

There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.

The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.

Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.

So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.

There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.

His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.

But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.

“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”

Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.

“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.

Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.

“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.

You grin triumphantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.

“Sound sure about that.” He replies.

“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”

Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.

“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.

“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.

His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.

Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.

“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.

“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.

He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.

“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.

So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.

Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.

He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.

The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.

Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.

Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.

Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.

The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.

Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.

The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.

“You should get one!” Your mom urges.

Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.

On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.

Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”

You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.

When you get home, you see the message has been read.

But also, a new profile has followed you.

JM_8712

The profile also sent you a message.

JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider

No way.

This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.

JM_8712: think ur so funny huh

The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.

Then another message flies in.

JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?

It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.

Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.

Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.

Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.

The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.

Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.

You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.

For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.

One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.

“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.

You just hope Joel is alright.

Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.

Joel.

JM_8712: sorry connections shit

Then he simply sends you his phone number.

You wonder if you’re seeing things.

Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.

When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.

Yeah im good thanks

Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.

Looks like room service for tonight

It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.

It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.

Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.

You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.

The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.

The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.

You think at first it must be one of your parents.

But instead it’s Joel.

You scramble to answer.

“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.

“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.

That catches you off guard.

“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.

Joel sighs.

“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”

Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.

Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.

But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.

“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”

“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”

“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.

On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.

“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.

“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.

Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.

Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…

Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.

It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.

Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.

“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”

He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.

“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.

“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.

“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.

Joel snorts.

“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.

“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.

Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.

“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.

“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.

“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.

You say his name quick.

“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.

A moment passes.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.

He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.

“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.

A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.

And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.

The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.

Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.

While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.

You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.

During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.

You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.

But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.

It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.

There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.

Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.

But not as hot as the sounds he makes.

The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.

You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.

But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.

Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.

The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.

Joel of course had messaged you.

Looks like you had fun last night

So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.

But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.

So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.

“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.

“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”

“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”

You agree and thank him.

“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.

“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.

Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.

“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.

Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”

His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.

“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.

“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.

You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.

Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.

“No, none of that.” He answers.

“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”

Your heart sinks.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.

He sighs.

“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”

His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.

A grim cloud seems to settle above you.

“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”

“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.

Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.

“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”

You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.

He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.

Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.

Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.

Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.

The days blur together.

Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.

hope you’re alright

You want to cradle that message.

When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.

“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”

That’s right.

Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.

“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.

The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.

He texts back immediately.

Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered

That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.

Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.

“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.

A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.

You take a small comfort in that.

When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.

At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.

Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.

Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.

“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.

“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.

It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.

“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.

“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”

She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.

You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.

Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.

You’re stunned in shock yet again.

Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.

It’s beautiful and comforting.

“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.

You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.

“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.

Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.

Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case

Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.

With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.

Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.

In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.

The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.

It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.

You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.

Two strikeouts back to back.

Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.

“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.

You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.

“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”

He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.

Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.

Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.

He did amazing.

Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.

But it’s still a sweet victory.

You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.

“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.

You can’t say no.

The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.

The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.

Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.

Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.

The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.

It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.

Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.

“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.

He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.

Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.

“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.

Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.

“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.

“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.

You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.

“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.

“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.

Because of course they do.

Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.

You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.

“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.

“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.

Next time.

“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.

With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.

You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.

“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.

“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.

Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”

You weakly grin back.

You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.

You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.

Joel however is surprisingly talkative.

“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.

And it kills you.

“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.

Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.

“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.

You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.

You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.

“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.

“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.

“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.

Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.

“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”

There it is.

Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.

So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.

“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.

He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.

You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.

“It means what it means.” You fire back.

“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.

“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.

“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.

It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.

You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.

“Honey, I’m sorry-”

Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.

Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.

“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.

Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.

“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.

“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.

You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.

“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.

“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.

His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you

“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.

You’re not and you tell him that.

“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.

“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.

He inhales, and his face goes taunt.

You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.

Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.

Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.

The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.

“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.

“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.

Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.

“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.

“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.

“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”

Joel freezes.

“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.

Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.

Your lips and eyes shut close.

Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.

“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. ��Tell me, please.”

You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.

He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.

“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.

So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.

He groans.

“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.

He devours you.

You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.

“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.

You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.

Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.

In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.

Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.

You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.

“Joel.”

He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.

“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.

“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.

You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.

You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.

Joel sighs.

“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

Now a bitter venom spills in you.

You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up

“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.

Over his shoulder he glares at you.

“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”

“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.

Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.

“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.

A pause settles between him and you.

“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.

“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.

He goes quiet again.

“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”

Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.

“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet

Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.

The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.

Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.

“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.

The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.

“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”

In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.

Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.

When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.

But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.

While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.

Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.

Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.

He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.

“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.

“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”

His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.

Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.

But the next morning arrives.

“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.

“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.

His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.

You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.

“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.

That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.

#again I blame baseball season and the recent dodgers game so here we are lol #but seriously thank you so much if you take the time to read me and pitcher Joel think you’re a home run #pitcher!Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #baseball player!joel #joel miller fic #pedrostories #Joel 🤎

[kymerawrites]

How much it hurt standing right there, on the balcony of his two-story house, the thought of him getting married to another woman tomorrow was making your heart bleed. You leaned against the railing with a frown on your face, a glass of champagne in your hand and your eyes throwing daggers at the moon. Simon decided to invite all Task Force 141 for a drink the night before the big day, you could hear them all laughing and cheering downstairs in the living room, but you couldn’t even put a small smile on your lips.

You loved him and he loved you back, you thought things could still work between the two of you, he thought differently. He didn’t know how to show his love, his care, it hurt you and he knew it perfectly, that’s why he decided to break things off with you. And now? After one year you still haven’t moved on and now he was going to marry another woman. You heard someone clear his voice and immediately turned around, Simon was there with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes staring deeply at yours, “shym.. Why are you here alone?” He asked, his tone holding a little sadness.

You let out a scoff before turning your gaze down towards the garden, watching a couple of butterflies landing perfectly on the grass, “because I’d rather not be around for this,” you muttered, the grip on your glass of champagne tightening. He sighed and walked closer to you, joining you in standing against the railing of the balcony and keeping a respectful distance.

“You’re invited, why would you not want to be here?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before letting his gaze drop on you. You rolled your eyes and drank half of the liquid from your glass before replying, “Because I don’t want to watch my ex-boyfriend getting married to another woman.” You murmured with bitterness in your tone.

“Even though we’re still colleagues, I cannot just act like I don’t care Simon..” I took a big chug of my wine before looking down to the grass

His eyes softened as he realized how you truly felt about the situation, he could blame nobody but himself. He was the stupid one. He let out another heavy sigh and leaned against the railing, his shoulders dropping and his body slightly falling forward, as if a weight was on his shoulders, “I know-“ he paused and closed his eyes before continuing, “but the decision has been taken.”

“Why mia… why her Simon what was so special about her that overshadowed me?”

“You want me to tell you why did I choose her?” He asked and you could just hear how tired and frustrated his voice was. You turned your head to look at him and saw how tired he looked, probably tired from hearing the same question for the past few weeks after he told you that he was going to marry her and not you, “yes,” you said in a stern voice, “why her and not me?”

Simon thought for a split second “Mia, she was someone who saved my life, kept me company while I was almost dying on that battlefield..and we just fell for eachother, I couldn’t let that eat me up.”

Your heart dropped as Simon spoke, he fell for her while you were waiting for him here. You felt a pang of jealousy and anger towards her just from hearing the words leaving his mouth. You turned your body fully towards him and narrowed your eyes at his face.

“You fell for her on the battlefield?” You asked in disbelief, “while I was here waiting and worrying for you?”

He slowly nodded his head. “You don’t understand, she kept me company while I was in my lowest point during those days on the battlefield, I-“ he paused and licked his lips as he remembered those days where he didn’t give a damn if he lived or died and he was close to death so many times, yet Mia was there, taking care of him and talking to him as he just laid there, unable to speak or move.

Your eyes widened in shock and slight anger. “You don’t think I understood that?” You exclaimed, “Simon I was there for you too, I was texting you, calling you, worrying about your state every night!” You paused as you felt your eyes starting to heat “I was praying that you’d come back safely, that you’d come back home to me, but-“ you bit the inside of your cheek and took a deep breath as you tried not to yell at him, “but no- Instead you fell in love with another woman.”

He could basically hear your voice breaking as you spoke and his heart ached every second. “I know-“ he tried to speak up, but you didn’t let him, the last drop of rage finally hit you and you snapped at him.

“You know? Then why!? Why didn’t you choose me? Didn’t you love me like you love her!? Didn’t you care for me like you care for her!?” You yelled at him, not being able to hold your emotions back now.

“Of course I did! You know I did!“ He yelled back as he lifted his head and clenched his jaw, his hazel eyes staring deeply into yours. You looked straight into his eyes and felt a tear run down your cheek, “Then why?” You asked in a weak voice, “if you loved me and cared about me why didn’t you choose me instead?”

Another sigh escaped his lips and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Because it’s different with her!“ He yelled back and he saw how another tear fell from your eye. He was hurting you, but he didn’t know how to explain you why it was different, “I don’t know how to explain” he spoke in a much calmer tone and leaned against the railing again, “she’s just different..”

I nodded “ah yes, because she never made mistakes, she was soft, loving and caring..” I paused “and I always did the opposite. Because I am harsh, an ex maffia member, someone who was obsessed with the thrill of life or death, money..” I looked at him angrily “is that the reason?”

Simon stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about your words. He knew that what you were saying was completely true, you have never been the soft or gentle type of woman, you could never love him as fiercely as Mia did. He lowered his gaze to his feet for a second and bit his lower lip before replying. “It is part of the reason-“

Your heart shattered even more as he confirmed your thoughts. “That’s exactly why isn’t it?“ You said in an almost inaudible whisper. “She loves you like a real lover should do.. while I do the opposite..” you muttered almost to yourself.

You chuckled humorlessly and shook your head, looking up at the night sky to hold your tears from falling down your face. “And the other reasons..?” You whispered, knowing you were stepping into a minefield.

He took a deep breath and let it out before answering your question. “It’s a.. lot of reasons actually.” He said in a much calmer voice than before. He could see and hear the pain in your voice and it made him want to comfort you, but he couldn’t do that. Not anymore. Not after everything.

“Then name them.“ You looked at him again, holding back all the emotions that were swirling in your brain, “tell me all the reasons that made you fall out of love for me and fall in love with her.”

He grunted and closed his eyes for a second before looking into your eyes again “first reason, the one you already guessed, is her nature. She’s sweet, gentle, kind, loving, she takes care of me when I need it.” He said in a low voice, his eyes locked into yours.

“Second,” he paused as he leaned forward and his body was now facing you fully, “she knows when to stop arguing and when to give in, she’s not stubborn like you.” He said without thinking and winced slightly.

He knew that the next reasons were going to rip you apart, that’s why he was taking time to give the perfect answer. “She’s not some mobster and a con.” He said in a cold tone as he looked up at you again.

Your eyes widened in shock when he spoke, you couldn’t believe that part of the reason was the fact that you were once a mafia member. “You-“ you spoke in a weak voice “you’re using my past as a reason?” You let out a humorless chuckle and shake your head.

“Don’t act surprised,” he said in a dry tone “you’re a criminal. A con woman and now an ex mobster.” He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly lifted his chin, staring into your eyes with a blank expression, “what do you expect?”

His cold words and expression felt like daggers into your heart and you closed your eyes momentarily to hold back your tears. “I know what I was, but I never expected you to use it against me.” You said in a quiet voice.

“You know how I was forced in that and the horrific situations I experienced and needed to endure..”

He bit his lip and his body tensed when you spoke about your past, he remembered hearing your stories more than once. He knew it was cruel to use that against you, but he just wanted you to understand, “Yes I do..” he said in a serious and firm voice “and that’s another part of the problem.”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore Simon… I couldn’t get over you because I love you.. or well loved you.” A tear welled up in my eye “you just proved me why I should not even want to speak to you again.”

He clenched his jaw when he saw the tear rolling down your face and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to reach over and wipe the tear off your face, his hands were itching to feel your skin again, but he knew he couldn’t touch you. This was already too painful for both of you. He looked at you again and saw how much pain you were in. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said in a low tone, “I just wanted you to understand..”

“Understand your bullshit reasons to marry another woman,” you whispered and wiped the tear off your face with the back of your hand. You couldn’t take this anymore, hearing him give you so many reasons why he won’t choose you was slowly killing you.

He flinched slightly when you cursed, he also couldn’t stand seeing you in pain like that. “Those same bullshit reasons are the ones I’m choosing her over YOU!“ He snapped. He was losing control of his emotions hearing you speak and seeing your hurting expression.

“Then why are you still trying to explain them to me?” You spoke, feeling your anger rise as well, getting tired of his attitude. “You already chose her, you’re going to marry her tomorrow, then why are you wasting your time to explain me something you shouldn’t?!”

He let out a scoff and leaned more towards you, “Because I don’t want you to think that I’m only doing this out of spite! I’m in love with her okay?! And I’m going to marry her because I want to, I want to spent the rest of my life with her!” He yelled at you, letting out all his bottled up emotions.

I just stayed silent and looked at the stars in the sky before turning my face back to him “then I wish you well in live Simon.” And I walked downstairs towards the door

His heart sank when you walked away like that, you just stopped fighting, you just gave up. “That’s it?” He said in disbelief before he started walking after you, closing the distance between the two of you in a few strong steps. He grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking.

He turned you around so that you would be facing him and held your arm firmly to prevent you from walking away from him. He stared into your eyes as he spoke, his voice low. “That’s it?” he repeated, “you’re just leaving? Not even going to fight for me?”

You felt like your emotions were about to explode anytime now, he had no right to speak like that. “What the hell do you want me to do?!” You almost shouted, looking him straight in the eyes, “what more am I supposed to say!? You don’t want me, you chose another woman! I’m not going to fight when it’s already lost.”

He tightened his jaw and his grip on your arm. He didn’t know why he was so upset when you said those words. He should’ve been happy that you gave up, but he wanted to see the feisty woman that never surrender, he wanted you to fight for him. But the words you were saying to him made his heart ache. You were giving up on him, you just accepted that he was marrying another woman.

His expression softened when he saw more tears in your eyes and he slowly loosened his grip on your arm, holding it gently now. He took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice calm. “Say something. Yell at me, tell me I’m a bastard, that you hate me. Anything.”

You inhaled a shaky breath and tried to hold back your tears. Seeing him like this made your heart ache as well, but you knew you had to be strong, “What for? Do you want me to humiliate myself and beg you to pick me? Beg you that you will see how much I love you?”

“Well guess what Simon, I want you to thrive in your upcoming marriage and I don’t want to be seen as an obstacle, I don’t want to see you again Simon..” and I walked out the door and shut it close

And at that moment I felt like I lost myself, lost control. I called Shepard to surrender myself from the army and called an old friend of mine.

I called Amanda “shym is that really you? Girl we’ve missed you so much!”

Amanda’s excited tone on the other side of the phone made your heart clench slightly, you missed your old friend. A lot.

“How is angels palace doing Amanda? I want to come back. I miss everyone..”

“Oh we’re all good but we all miss your presence!” Amanda said in a cheerful tone “Come back here you crazy bitch, we all miss our queen.”

I smiled as tears welled up in my eyes again “so my dad isn’t angry at me leaving him?”

“Yeah he’s still sulking about it“ said Amanda before bursting into laughter “it’s kinda funny whenever someone mentions you, he just puffs like an angry child. But I know and everyone knows that secretly he’s missing your smartass comebacks.”

“And most of all his backbone, you were thriving and making us a lot of money, you need to come back.. Sol.”

A chuckle escaped your lips when she used your old name, nobody called you like that anymore. “Stop it, you’re making me miss that place even more. I swear to God if I get home and I don’t see my favorite drink at the bar I’m going to strangle your ass.”

“My flight leaves at 9 AM, I’ll see you around 7 PM in the evening alright?”

“Perfect, just be prepared to drink tons of my good old cocktails.” Amanda said and you could sense the excitement in her voice.

I drove home and instantly packed all my belongings and my cat, couldn’t leave the poor guy behind. I left my keys in the plant pot and put a note for my tenant that I payed last month rent and I’ve moved out.

After everything was in your bags and the car, you sat down in the driver’s seat and drove straight to the airport. You were already excited to see your old home again and meet your old friends, but your heart still ached from the whole Simon situation.

You checked in your bag and sat down in the waiting area for your flight. People were all around you, walking, chatting, all seemed normal. But you felt heavy and tired, you couldn’t get Simon’s face out of your head. You closed your eyes to rest for a moment.

You were awakened by the announcement on the speakers that your flight was about to start boarding up. You slowly opened your eyes and stood up from your sit, grabbing your bags. You slowly made your way to the boarding desk, showing the worker your ticket before making your way onto the plane.

Time to go back to bogota..

You made your way to your seat at the plane and strapped the seatbelt around your waist. You inhaled a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment, trying not to think about Simon.

‘He’s marrying that stuck up doctor today, I hope everything goes well for them’ I thought

Even thinking that made your heart ache. You hated the thought of him marrying another woman. You took a deep breath and took out your headphones, deciding to play some music to distract yourself.

The flight seemed long, but at least the loud music was helping you to distract from your thoughts. You were listening to some of your favorite songs when the pilot announced your arrival to Bogota.

Back in London it was Simon, trying to call you multiple times since yesterday

He sat alone in his kitchen with his head resting on his crossed forearms. He hasn’t slept and he had bags under his eyes. He picked his phone up again and called your number, hoping that this time you would answer.

He tapped his foot on the floor anxiously and held his breath, listening to the beeping. But then he heard your voicemail again, causing his expression to tense up. He growled in irritation and was about to throw the phone but he quickly stopped himself and called your number again.

He impatiently waited for your voice but heard your voicemail again. He let out another loud sigh and leaned against his chair, covering his face with one of his hands. He was getting fed up, why weren’t you answering?

He dropped his hands from his face and looked at Soap who was grinning widely. He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes with annoyance, “Yeah I’m marrying her today, not even a bloody congratulations?”

Soap scoffed as well and shook his head, “I wouldn’t compliment your choice mate and you know that” he said and sat down next to him, patting his shoulder “are you actually going through with this?”

He leaned back in his seat and avoided eye contact with Soap, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked in a rough tone, “she’s the one I’m marrying in a couple of hours remember?”

Soap narrowed his eyes at him “because you haven’t slept at all, and you haven’t even spoken to your fiancé since yesterday” he said in a suspicious tone, he knew his friend well and knew that something was wrong.

He averted his gaze from Soap and clenched his jaw. He hadn’t spoken to her, he had called her multiple times but you weren’t answering him, which irritated him even more. He hated the fact that he was having second thoughts and he hated the fact that you still had such an effect on him. “I’m just stressed about the whole marriage situation.” He lied.

Soap chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, “You, stressed? You’re one of the most calm and composed guys I know” he said in a disbelieving tone, he knew he was hiding something.

He let out a loud scoff and finally looked up at Soap, his expression still tense “even I can get stressed sometimes Soap. Can you just cut me some slack for now?”

Soap raised his hands in defense and gave him a smirk, “Alright mate settle down, was just messing with you” he said and gave him a playful pat on his shoulder “but seriously, are you alright?”

He inhaled a shaky breath and leaned his head back to rest on his chair. He had never opened up to anyone about something like that before. But Soap was his close friend and he trusted him the most out of everyone. He let out a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling “No, I’m not.” He admitted slowly.

“It’s shym.” He said bluntly

Soap’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion “shym? What about her?” He asked in disbelief.

He let out a tired exhale and closed his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at Soap “She just won’t leave my mind, every time I try to stop thinking about her she’s still there” he admitted, he felt relieved that he was finally telling someone about how he felt, especially Soap who was his best friend.

“You still love shym don’t you..” he said firmly

He stayed silent for a moment, his expression tense. He slowly looked up at Soap and nodded “yeah, I still love her, more than anyone in the world” he admitted in a firm tone “I never stopped loving her.”

Soap raised his eyebrows in surprise. Out of all the possibilities of why his friend was so distracted, he didn’t expect his to say that. “Then why are you marrying another woman?” He asked in disbelief.

Simon looked at soap “because I also love Mia, a lot.. and she’s a better option.”

Soap let out a scoff and rolled his eyes, “How the hell is she a better option? Mate, you’re marrying a woman that you don’t even love that much, instead of the woman you truly love, do you even hear yourself right now?”

He looked away and clenched his jaw stubbornly “Mia is everything I need. She doesn’t distract me with her stupidity, she actually supports me and is there for me. She’s everything I need” he said as he tried to convince himself it was the truth.

Soap rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, “That’s such bullshit mate and you know it.” He said in an annoyed tone, “You can’t marry a woman that’s not the one that you truly love. Can’t you just pull your head out of your ass and admit that you love shym?”

“It’s already too late, shym left with no trace.. I said some hurtful stuff yesterday and no one can find her now..”

Soap’s eyes widened in surprise and his heart ached for his friend. He didn’t want to believe that it was already too late. He walked back towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze “She can’t have disappeared like that, she must be somewhere..”

And now i returned to the hotel a coverup for a secret organization that trades and smuggles drugs and other stuff.

As you walked into the palace you saw many people who were close to your family or that you had done business with before. They all looked surprised but somewhat happy to see that you had returned. As soon as your father saw you, he exclaimed and spread his arms wide open before pulling you into a tight and emotional embrace.

“Family! My backbone has returned!”

All the people in the room clapped and cheered as you appeared. Your father kept his arm around your shoulders and held you close to him as he spoke out to everyone in the room. “My daughter has finally returned” he said in a proud tone, “I missed her so much, I cannot believe that she has returned to us, my family is finally reunited once more!”

PART 2 SOON

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warfare #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley #codcanon #cod 141 #cod imagine #dead dove do not eat #task force 141 #taking care of the big guys who are all so bloody #the other woman

[ninuwrites]

I love you more than you’ll ever know CS55

summary: your best friend gave you just one rule, not hook up with her brother but you’re not gods strongest soldier

warnings: suggestive themes (no smut), fighting, happy ending

a/n: idk how i feel about this but enjoy! you can write me any request you want! sorry for grammar mistakes🙏 thank you for reading, love you all💋

———————————————————————————

oh you were fucked.

like literally so fucked.

your best friend staring at you while your tongue was in a guys throat.

not just some guy, it was her brother. the only man she didn’t want you to kiss while you being the only woman she didn’t want him to touch.

“f/n… i can explain.” you said, out of breath but she was already leaving.

oh this was bad.

but let’s start from the beginning.

-

you knew f/n your whole life. your moms were best friends long before you were even planned.

she was your rock, your second sister, your everything. you were inseparable all your life. she was always there for you as you were there for her, never getting tired of each other.

you always spent summer at sainz home with f/n and her family, yours joining from time to time.

and of course carlos was present all the time. you always looked up to him, how could you not. he taught you how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to cook without burning the kitchen down.

he taught you all of the things your father never did. he was always kind and helped everyone around him.

no wonder you had the biggest crush on him. you always had.

but after carlos started to drive for f1 you wouldn’t see him at all. you were extremely happy for him because his hard work finally paid off but at cost not meeting him for quite some time.

few years pass without you talking or even seeing carlos. you had a lot of work and school and the only time spending with sainz family was during summer, but carlos wasn’t spending summer time at home at all.

until now. you were freshly 20 after your first breakup and your exams all done. you and f/n were about to have the best summer of your life, both of you single and stunning as hell.

you were sunbathing outside, beside a pool. “do you want a drink babe.” you asked f/n standing up. “yes pleasee.” she smiled and put her sunglasses on.

you went inside to get some drinks. as you were bending to get some ice from the freezer someone stood up behind you.

“uhm hola.” you heard behind you immediately turning around. “oh hi carlos.” you blushed.

you didn’t really think that the sainz parents would be home so you chose the smallest bikini you had to get the best tan you could.

“y/n? is that you? you’ve grown so much.” he said, smile plastered on his face, at once giving you the biggest hug.

when you moved away, silence fell between the two you, carlos eyeing you up and down. he didn’t expect you to grow up to be such a beautiful woman and to mature so much. well… obviously you would. he haven’t seen you in a while and you were the prettiest girl he have ever met. he didn’t even realised that he missed you. the feeling he had when he was with you was indescribable. of course he loved you, who wouldn’t, you were his first childhood love.

but he loved his sister as well and he would never break the only rule she gave him. don’t. touch. y/n

we’ll see about that

“change and come to the pool, we’ll be waiting.” you smiled and faced the door. “of course i’ll be right there”. he said and left to get changed.

you took the beverages and went back to f/n. “what took you so long, i almost died from thirst.” she whined and you just laughed.

“your brother is here. he’ll join us in a few.” you said.

she put her sunglasses off and stared at you, eyes wide open. “what? carlos is here?” she asked surprised.

“you didn’t know he was coming?” you questioned her.

“no she did not.” voice in thick spanish accent spoke up behind you. you turned around and there he was standing in all of his glory

you didn’t want to admit but he was hot. his face features matured, his all body got muscular and his charisma just got bigger.

f/n spurted up and immediately went to hug her older sibling. “what are you doing here? you never come home for summer brake.” she asked as she pulled you and carlos to sit by the outside table.

“you answered your question hermanita. haven’t spent much time with you for a while and i started to miss you actually.” he said and hugged her one more time.

“look at both of you, you grown so much by the time i was gone. i feel like i’m missing out.” he said.

“when did you got so soft?” you asked. “he’s just old.” f/n stated and both of you started laughing. carlos just rolled his eyes.

“don’t make me regret this.” he said and laughed with both of you.

-

to be honest you didn’t know how you were going to survive whole summer with carlos around when you were having trouble first two days he was over.

there certainly was tension between the two of you but you could never admit that. not after your recent talk with f/n.

/

“y/n, you would never have anything with my brother right?” f/n asked out of the blue. “what? no of course not.” you obviously lied.

“why not? don’t you find him attractive?” she continued. “well yes i do but i would never have anything if you are against it.” you said and sipped your drink.

“that’s all i wanted to hear.” she said and smiled softly.

/

you did understand why she was like that. a lot of time she would tell you how she feels that her parents put carlos always before her. that he’s the more important, more skilled, more intelligent, more loved sibling. she always felt that she was in the second person place and is he would get you too she would not stand it anymore.

but you can’t keep love apart for long.

one night, after long day at the beach, you decided to go to a club. you, f/n, carlos and your friends were getting ready.

you chose a dark coloured short dress and some high heels. you couldn’t zip the dress so you started to search for f/n be she was currently finishing her make up in the bathroom.

so the next person that cane to mind was carlos. you knocked on his door and he opened in just shorts.

“what can i do for you hermosa?” he asked and led you into his room. oh god that nickname. when f/n wasn’t around he started giving you nicknames and small touches here and there. you could never get enough of it.

“could you please zip my dress? f/n is in shower and i can’t do it.” you said, your voice small. “turn around.” he ordered and you at once turned your back to him, your front facing a mirror in front of you.

you felt him get closer to you. you felt his hot breath on you skin, his hands carefully touching your skin. he put you hair to the side and slowly brought the zipper up your back.

you were looking in the mirror when suddenly his hands grabbed your hips and you looked at each other in the mirror, carlos smirking at you.

“you look beautiful quierda.” he said and buried his head into the crook of your neck. you stayed like that for a few.

“guys let’s go the taxis arrived.” you heard f/n shout and that woke you up. both of you stepped away from each other, carlos quickly putting a shirt on while you started to leave.

“thank you carlito.” you smiled and walked out of the room.

you were in the mood of getting a bit drunk tonight and of course to dance. you haven’t been in a club for a while so you were going to enjoy the night to the fullest.

-

you woke up with your head pounding and sun shining through the blinds. you opened your eyes and almost had an heart attack.

carlos was peacefully sleeping in front of you. you sobered up immediately and tried to calmed down, maybe you were just too tired to go to your room when you came from the club.

of course not.

you looked under the covers. you and carlos were fully naked. you turned your back to him and as you wanted to leave the bed carlos hugged you from the behind and pulled you closer.

“good morning hermosa, why are we leaving?” he said probably thinking you were some random girl from the club.

“to use the bathroom.” you said and you felt him tense up.

“fuck.”

-

you tried avoiding carlos, you really did but probably someone from above wanted you two together more than anything.

one day when everyone left for a three day trip, your social battery too low and you didn’t feel like leaving the bed for a while, you stayed back at sainz house.

you were really looking forward to it, three days all alone with nobody around.

you thought so.

as you went downstairs in your bikini to go out to tan a bit someone was standing in the kitchen.

guess who?

“what are you doing here carlos? why are you not on the vacation?” you asked confused as hell, your peace now disturbed.

he turned around surprised as well. “i thought i would get a few days alone.” he said.

“your stuck with me now.” you smirked and went to get some water. “hmm i could not wish for more.” he said and stepped closer to you.

you knew you mustn’t do this, but let’s be honest who can resist carlos sainz?

you looked into his deep brown eyes and placed your hands on his naked torso, his hands immediately settling on your hips, rubbing small circles.

he looked at your lips and leaned in, your lips connecting, one of your hand burying in his thick hair.

one of his hands grabbed your ass and the other went to your neck, squeezing it slightly. he pinned you to the counter and the kiss deepened.

“you’re irresistible.” he said out of breath, his hand on your boobs. his other hand slowly traced down your body, stopping by your panties.

you put your hand on his and looked him in the eyes. “let’s take this to the bedroom.” you whispered and he bit his lips.

“oh mi amor we can take this anywhere.” he picked you up and ran to his bedroom.

-

a year an half later, you were celebrating christmas, your families together as always.

you haven’t seen carlos in three weeks, last time seeing him at abu dhabi to watch the grand prix. you had too much work before christmas and new year that you didn’t have time to see him at all.

when you started dating you didn’t expect to for your relationship to last. there were many factors that made you think that you will not sustain the relationship. but your love for each other just grew more every day.

before the family dinner you were in “your” room putting your lipstick on as you heard a soft knocks on the door.

“come in.” you turned around to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway. he looked so good in a suit, you didn’t know how you were supposed to breathe through this evening without getting your hands on him.

he locked the door and came right to you to give you the most passionate kiss. “i missed you so much mi vida, could’t stop thinking about you.” he whispered an d hugged you tighter.

when he moved away he looked at you up and down, spun you around and gave you another kiss. “my precious princesa. you look amazing.” he smiled softly when he saw you wearing a necklaces he gave you.

“let’s go eat love or it’ll be suspicious.” you said, gave him last kiss and both of you went to dinning room.

-

after the dinner you went out to clear your head a bit. it was a bit too much for you. carlos saw you leaving the house and went after you.

“what’s wrong mi corazón?” he asked, concerned. “nothing amor, just a lot was going on this month, i just need a break.” you said and leaned into him.

“we can go somewhere together, anywhere you want cariño.” he whispered. “we can definitely come up with something.” you smiled and kissed him.

“y/n?”

fuck

-

you watched f/n ran inside the house. you looked at carlos, his stare was blank.

“i’ll go talk to her.” he said, his voice stern. “we should give her some time and than go together .” you said, grabbed his hands and leaned into his torso.

you really tried to be calm but your hands were shaking and head hurting. how were you supposed to tell your best friend that you practically betrayed her?

“it’s going to be okay baby, breath.” carlos tried to calm you down by kissing your head and rubbing your back. you stayed like that for a good couple of minutes until you couldn’t just stand around anymore. you grabbed his hand and lead him inside the house.

you knocked on her door “f/n please let us explain.” you begged. you heard some shuffling behind the door and the lock unlocking. she peeked through the door, eyes puffy and red from crying.

“how long?” she asked obviously hurt by the scene she witnessed. you started shaking agin, carlos squeezing your hand tighter, reminding you that he’s here with you.

“year and a half…” you whispered looking down at your shoes.

f/n started blankly at you. “so you. my best friend, could not tell me for a fucking year and a half that you have a thing with my brother?” she was raising her voice a bit. “and you.” she looked at carlos. “you just can’t get enough. you take everything. fucking everything from me and now you decide to steal my best friend too? my whole life was not enough? i tried so hard for everyone and apparently it’s not enough…” she went on taking out her anger on you and carlos

you stepped closer to her and hugged her tightly. “nobody is going to take me away from you f/n.” you said and moved away. “i love so much you cannot get rid of me. ever. yes i didn’t want to tell you about me and carlos because that was the only thing in the world you didn’t want to happen. but it did. and i understand if you’re not going to be okay with us but i love him. i love him so much i am sometimes even scared of it. but that doesn’t mean that i love you less f/n. you’re like my sister, my twin even. okay? you have nothing to worry about.” you said with tears in your eyes.

her eyes were filled with tears to. she hugged you once again, so tight that you could barely breathe. “i love you too.” she said “and you. try hurting her and you’ll be dead man walking.” she said to carlos.

“that would never cross my mind.” he said and joined your hug. “i’m actually dating lando.” f/n said while shock and anger was plastered on carlos face. “that carbón. i’ll show him, he’ll not touch my little sister.” carlos said, taking phone into his hands.

“i’m joking.” f/n laughed and took his phone out of hush hands. “but at least you know how i felt.” she said

-

fast forward two years later. everything was like from a fairy tale for you. you moved in with carlos, at work you were your own boss and your love for carlos grew. the sainz always loved you so when you went public and told his and your parents they were more than happy unite your families.

you went to watch more grand prix and he supported you and was always there for your hobbies or work achievements. you lived in symbiosis, you were like jing and jang.

one time you were home, carlos was after a hard weekend in canada. but you were there for him even in his hardest moments.

you left him alone for a while, you understood that he wanted to spent sone time alone with his thoughts.

after some time you came to his room “dinner is ready mi amor, you should go eat. you haven’t really went out of our room. or i can bring the food here for you.” you said and sat at the side of the bed, right beside him.

he looked at you, his stare blank. you laid down beside him and took his chin into you hand. “mi vida you did your best, you tries so hard to get into the points but it didn’t work out. and i know you are pissed at your self but this will not win with this setup.” you said and gave him a kiss.

suddenly he grabbed your body and hugged you tightly. “i love you so much hermosa.” he said. “what would i do without you.” he whispered in your ear and kissed your temple.

“without me you would be bored to death.” you said and laughed at yourself. carlos just looked at you. he loved watching and studying you, he could never get tired of that.

“marry me.” he said

“what?” you asked confused as hell.

“marry me. please, i don’t want anyone else in my life, just you.” he adds

you just stared at him.

“wait a second.” he ran out of the room and came back with a little box. he came to the side of the bed you were sitting on and kneeled down.

“marry me mi reina.” he opened the box that revealed a ring. “i wanted to do this for some time, but now felt right.” he said

“yes… yes of course i will.” you said as his eyes sparkled and he put the ring on your finger.

“te amo carlos.” you whispered, crying your eyes out.

he kissed you and laid you down on the bed.

“i love more that you’ll ever know.”

#f1 smut #carlos sainz x reader #f1 2024 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 smau #carlos sainz #sainz #carlos sainz 55

[bluesidez]

Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week. 

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you. 

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth. 

He’s absolutely infatuated with you. 

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it. 

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was. 

You’re something that he more than adored. 

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you. 

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running. 

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind. 

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down. 

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him. 

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office. 

“Here we go,” he grumbled. 

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said. 

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it. 

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them. 

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice. 

“Well,” Miles started. 

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes. 

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says. 

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme. 

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched. 

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water. 

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously. 

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself. 

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed. 

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall. 

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied. 

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry. 

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked. 

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered. 

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it. 

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment. 

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer. 

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned. 

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples. 

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh. 

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once. 

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his. 

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

#to the lab testers 🩻 #love lab fics 🧫 #miguel o’hara x gn!reader #gn reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #astv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x gn!reader #spider man 2099 x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara au #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara fluff

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hey girl, I absolutely love your writing style so I was wondering if you could write about reader dating LA knight but them having a huge age difference (like he’s 41 and reader’s in her twenty’s) and people finding out about reader’s age and not being okay with their relationship but LA being so in love with her that he would go against his own fans to protect her from negative comments

first time writing for him!

la knight x reader + rhea x reader (platonic)

‼️a little angst (please tell me you get the reference from the title lol)

coal digger

“they hate me…” you said throwing yourself on the hotel bed.

“who?” your best friend rhea asked you.

“the fans, the people, everyone!”

“no one hates you” she laughed at your dramatic reaction.

“the comments they are leaving under our post together aren’t nice. the comments they are leaving under my post are mean and terrible! it’s clear that they hate me!” you said. rhea knew what you were referring about.

you and la knight started dating just a few months ago but the sparkle between you two was evident. you worked backstage as one of the social media managers and you loved your job at wwe, especially when you had to tour with the wrestlers to film and take pictures for the socials.

that’s how you two met. you were asked to take a video and you immediately connected. he was fun and charismatic, you were fun and charismatic. he was hot, you were hot. he was kind and you were kind.

rhea said that he was your soulmate and you almost believed her.

five months later, you two confirmed publicly your relationship. your colleague were happy for you two, saying that you found each others. his fans, on other hand, didn’t like you at all.

they thought you were there just for fame and money and that you didn’t really love him. they couldn’t be more wrong but you knew there was no arguing with the fans.

plus, your age difference wasn’t making it easy for you to be more likeable to his fans.

he was 41.

you were 25.

most of the nice comments were about how “gorgeous of a daughter he had” or “he found his sugar baby”, the worst comments were when they called you a “goal digger looking for fame” or just simply a “slut”.

“those aren’t his fans. his fans probably don’t even care about who he’s dating. those are just girls who are jealous because you two are dating and they’re not…you shouldn’t listen to those people y/n” rhea tried to comfort you.

“i know i shouldn’t but it’s not really nice when they’re calling me a slut just because i fell in love…” you were hurt and rhea realised that too but before she could talk, your boyfriend entered the room, sign that he just finished training for his upcoming match.

“hello ladies” he smiled at the both of you. rhea smiled back but you were too lost in your thoughts to acknowledge him.

“i’ll leave you two alone” rhea smiled before going somewhere else.

“what’s on your mind pretty girl?” he said sitting next to you on the bed.

“your fans hate me…”

“no they don’t” he replied back.

“but they do…and”

“and it’s bothering you…” he finished the sentence and you nodded.

“the don’t like me. they don’t like us together and i get it, maybe they are jealous, i would be jealous too if someone else was dating you” you said making him laugh “but it’s the lack of respect that i cannot stand. you don’t like me? just say it nicely please because i can’t stand seeing more comments of me being called a slut just because i love you and we are together…”

“wait what?” he asked a little shocked.

“what?”

“they called you a slut? are you serious?” you nodded at his question “this is not right at all, i’m so sorry love you have to go through this every single day…i had no idea of the mean comments they were leaving under your posts…they should definitely stop”

“they don’t want us together because of me. if i was your age probably no one would have said anything…but i’m 25 and they keep calling me a gold digger and”

“coal digger” he said making you chuckle.

“not the right time for the modern family reference” you laughed again.

“i know i just wanted to see your pretty smile” he smiled back at you “listen to me…i love you” he said sitting closer to you and opening his arms to let you lay your head on his chest “i love you so much y/n that words can’t even describe it…you are everything to me. i know comments get on your head but you shouldn’t let them okay? i love you for being you and that will never change.” he softly kissed your head and you smiled into his chest.

“thank you…”

“you don’t have to thank me love” he smiled back.

he knew his words would have helped you but he wanted his fans to understand that he was feeling for you was real.

so he took his phone out. took a cute selfie of you laying on his chest with your eyes closed and a big smile on his face.

i’m the luckiest man alive. i love this woman with all my heart, some of you probably won’t even understand but i don’t care. respect my girl and our relationship, thank you.

and then he posted it.

you saw his with your eyes little opened and you smiled. you loved how protective he was and you loved him for that.

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe x you #wwe imagines #wwe one shot #wwe x oc #wwe la knight #la knight #la knight x reader #la knight one shot #la knight imagine #la knight story #la knight imagines #la knight x you #la knight x oc #la knight smut #la knight fluff #la knight angst #rhea ripley one shot #wwe rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley mami #rhea ripley x reader

[ahqkas]

Gf! Reader who always had dodges someone’s touch due to the fear/discomfort of human touch. But suddenly Theo is shock to say she finally came over it when she wanted to hug her boyfriend without thinking about human touch burning (metaphorically) her own skin.

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS BEEN THE OBSERVANT ONE. he always seemed to know if there was something different about you, noticing the little thing the moment it appeared. so, when he first saw you dodge a casual pat on the shoulder or shy away from a friendly hug, he understood that human touch brought you a kind of discomfort. it wasn’t something you talked about often, but theo could see the fear and unease in your eyes whenever anyone came too close.

you had explained it to him once, in quiet, halting words. the fear of touch was something that had haunted you for as long as you could remember, a deep-seated discomfort that made even the gentlest contact feel like a burning scratch on your skin. theo had listened, his heart aching with the urge to protect you from a pain he couldn't fully understand. he had always been patient, never pushing you to do more than you were comfortable with, and offering his support in any way he could.

one lazy sunday afternoon, you and theo were in the common room. the fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a soft, flickering light across the room. your boyfriend was reading a book, his long fingers idly turning the pages, while you sat across from him, your own book open but untouched in your lap. you watched him instead, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his eyes flicked back and forth across the words on the pages. there was something soothing about being near him, like you were at home, feeling the love seep through your skin.

without any kind of encouragement or guidance, the desire to be as close to him as humanly possible washed over you and so those thoughts that came with it. theo had been your sanctuary person for some time now, and one can feel connected with someone for only a certain amount. the desire to let yourself be touched by his heavenly hands appeared like his feelings for you; strong and sudden.

slowly, you set your book aside and stood up, taking tentative steps toward theo. he looked up from his novel, his silver eyes widening in surprise as he saw you approach. you could see the concern in his eyes, the unspoken question of whether you were alright.

you paused just in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest. taking a deep breath, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his own, gently intertwining them together. theo didn't move, his gaze locked on yours, giving you all the time you needed to make your decision. he didn’t want you to shy away now.

when you didn't pull away, theo's eyes softened. he set his book aside and slowly, carefully, stood up, towering over your figure. he dropped your hands and opened his arms instead, letting you make the final decision. and so you stepped forward, allowing yourself to fall into his embrace. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and for the first time, the touch didn't feel like a burn. it felt like coming home.

theo held you gently, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles on your back. you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, and felt a sense of peace wash over you. the fear that had always been a part of your life seemed to melt away in his arms, replaced by a warmth and safety you had never known before.

"i'm so proud of you," theo murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. you could hear the emotion in his voice, the pride and love that filled his heart. “you have no idea how grateful you make me.”

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott fic #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott drabble #theodore nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott one shot #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott imagine #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott fluff #theo nott #x reader #reader insert #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #hp x you #hp x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Warnings (for the series): MDNI, general filth, threesome, smut, dirty talk, oral (both receiving), and more!

Warnings (for this chapter): MDNI, mild smut (at the end) 

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.9K

Description: You fall through worlds and wake up in our favorite blondes’ bed. SHAMELESS “reader falls into HOTD world from our world” trope (I’m sorry, I CANNOT help myself, I’m a sucker for them). There’s not really a *plot* plot, but Part 1 is getting us acclimated before the filth can really begin. (Read - Part 2)

“God my head fucking hurts,” you whine, sitting up to rub your eyes. “That wine really hit out of nowhere.” Your head pounds, it has to be part of a hangover. The last thing you remember before drinking yourself to sleep was getting fired. Your boss hadn’t even had the decency to let you know face to face. An HR representative and your manager requested a zoom call at the end of the day and politely told you to ‘clean your desk.’

After nearly three years of work with the same accounting firm, it was weird to not wake up early and head into the office. The worst part really was that your performance was still stellar, the firm was just hemorrhaging money after several questionable expansions. 

Despite the pounding headache and sensitivity to light, you force yourself to open your eyes. “What the fuck?!” Glancing around the room frantically, you panic as you realize you weren’t waking up in the comfort of your room. You had to be the subject of some prank reality tv show because the decor was undoubtedly some renaissance festival shit. The walls were brick with large tapestries decorating the stone. You were laid in the center of a giant four poster bed, black and red canopies flowing.

Slipping from the tangle of sheets and blankets, you pad towards the door. “Okay,” you call out, “you got me. Very funny.” 

Silence. 

“This is so weird” you murmur, pushing the door open as gently as possible to peak out. A woman rushes by you, dressed in some kind of drab linen and an apron. “Excuse me!” you shout, attempting to get her attention. 

The short woman slowed down, stopping to curtsy quickly at the sight of you. “My lady, forgive me. I didn’t you see you there!”

“My lady?” You asked. “What are you talking about? This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, my lady,” she replied quietly. “Please don’t tell your wife I was making jokes! I swear I meant no harm-”

“My wife?!” Everyone has officially gone off the deep end. First this medieval times shit, now apparently you have a wife.

The woman’s eyes go wide, “Your wife, Queen Rhaenyra. My lady, are you unwell?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I have no idea what’s going on. I lost my job. I don’t know where I am or apparently who I am. I just want-” You choke off into sobs.

“Let me help you back to your room,” she offered, taking your elbow. “I’ll let the Queen know you’re unwell.”

You nodded, letting her lead you back into the room. The woman helped you into a steaming bath and left you to soak while she fetched your wife. “Can’t believe someone made an honest woman of me,” you laugh.

At some point, the entire situation stopped feeling like a prank. Maybe it was watching the maid fill the tub painstakingly bucket by bucket, or the significant lack of electricity. Either way, your situation was beginning to feel more and more real. You grab the bar of soap and lather up a cloth, scrubbing furiously at your skin. 

“That’s weird,” you murmur as you notice that your skin seems far too perfect. You usually had a couple scars littering your arms and legs, leftovers from frequently crashing your bike as a kid and general clumsiness. They all seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but perfectly smooth, supple skin behind. “Okay, I’m officially going crazy.”

You see a small mirror on the ledge next to the tub, and reach out with shaky hands. You sigh in relief as you glance into the mirror and see that you look the same. At least you have something familiar here.

“Admiring the view? I know I am.” A deep voice purred from behind you.

Tossing the mirror back, you swiftly cover your chest and pray that the water obscurs the rest of you. “What the fuck?!” You yell, turning to confront whatever pervert decided to interrupt your bath. A tall man towered over the tub, his white hair practically glowing as the candlelight reflected off of it.

“I’m trying to have an existential crisis in here,” you hiss. “Can you come back later or something?”

He snorted a laugh, stalking forward to grab a brush from the side table and sit behind you. “And miss this opportunity? I should think not, my love.” He gently began detangling your hair and brushing it out. 

“My love? You do know I’m a married woman?” You retort.

“You never let me forget,” he replied, kissing the top of your hair. 

“I mean I have a wife, asshole!” You twist around to snatch the brush from his hands, but he lifts it out of your reach.

“What a coincidence,” he purrs, blatantly staring at your breasts. “I do too. Two, if I’m not mistaken.” His eyes dart down to your left hand, as if he knows something you don’t.

You glance at the ring that’s been there since you woke up. The black metal has a dragon insignia that looks awfully similar to the embroidery on this man’s shirt. “Fuck.” 

The man’s brows furrow, “what’s wrong?” He sets the brush down, grabbing a sheet and pulling you from the bath. He wraps you up and sits you in his lap. The warmth seeping into your skin feels so familiar and you feel yourself begin to break. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you burrow your face into his neck to hide them. 

Warm hands rub up and down your back soothingly. “My love, I cannot fix whatever is wrong if you don’t tell me.” He hums. “You don’t even have to tell me. Just give Rhaenyra a name and I will ensure whoever made you cry will never breathe again.”

You laugh at the irony. “I don’t know who Rhaenyra is. I’m not sure I even know who I am.” 

Before he can respond, a door slams. “Daemon, thank Gods you’re here. The maid said y/n was acting ill and didn’t rememb-” 

Your head peaks up over the man–Daemon’s shoulder to see the woman who ran in. Her hair is just as white as Daemon’s and her clothing adorned with the same dragon insignia. This must be Queen Rhaenyra.

“Y/n?!” Rhaenyra rushes over, kissing your cheek before she hugs you tightly. 

“My queen,” Daemon greets, leaning in for a kiss. You find yourself pressed between the two, and as much as you don’t want to admit it….the warmth and pressure feels comforting…like home. 

“I hate to break this up,” you say, wiping the last of your tears away. “But can someone tell me what is going on. The last thing I remember was being fired, getting wine drunk, and going to bed early.”

“Fired?” Rhaenyra looked confused and immediately started inspecting every exposed inch of your skin. “Did you try to feed Caraxes again? He’s a temperamental old man, just like his rider.”

“Who is Caraxes? Do ya’ll have a dog or something?”

“Dog?!” Daemon sounded almost offended. “A dog?! Rhaenyra we should fetch a maester. Our little dragon is either begging for a punishment or in need of a healer.”

Rhaenyra attempts to cover her laugh. “Caraxes, Daemon’s dragon? You insist on telling him a goodnight story at least once a week.”

“He’s a dragon of war for fucks sake,” Daemon mutters. “You’ve been making him soft.”

“Dragon?!” Your eyes go wide. “You’re joking. You’ve gotta be fucking me right now.”

“We are most definitely no-”

“We certainly could be-”

Daemon and Rhaenyra spoke at the same time. You would have laughed, but the implications of Daemon’s words were starting to settle in.

“Wait,” you being. “So if Queen Rhaenyra is my wife….and Daemon has two wives…and you two seem to be close…that means-”

“That you both are all mine,” Daemon purrs.

“Daemon, we must call for the maester. This seems serious, she doesn’t even remember us.”

“What year is this?” You ask, not sure if you want the answer.

“125 AC.” Rhaenyra responds.

“And where are we?”

“The red keep.”

“What, is that like England or something?”

“We are in Westeros.” Rhaenyra feels your forehead. “Daemon, put y/n to bed while I have the maids summon the maester.”

You yelp in surprise and Daemon stands up, holding you close to his chest. He carries you to a vanity, setting you gently on the bench before rummaging through some drawers. “Arms up, love.” He says, pulling a white shift over your head. You stare of into space as Daemon gently braids your hair. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You ask as he ties a ribbon at the ends of the braid.

“You and Rhaenyra are quite the demanding duo when you want to be,” he snorts. “The staff might revolt and establish Rhaenyra’s cunt of a half-brother as king if I bothered them everytime you both needed your hair done.”

“Language,” you chide. Daemon rolls his eyes before he sweeps you back up into his arms. He carries you to the bed, depositing you in the center before he climbs in. Daemon sits up, back against the headboard as he pulls you in to lean against his chest. 

“Do you really not remember us?” He asks. 

“How long have we been married?” 

“Five years. We were married in the old ways. Your High Valyrian wasn’t as good back then though.” Daemon laughs. “But it was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade you both for anything.”

“So if Rhaenyra is queen, what does that make you?” You ask. He had to be King, right?

“A lucky man.”

You laugh, and lightly hit his chest. “No, really. I don’t remember anything. Help a girl out here.”

“Prince consort.” Daemon answers. You nod, so Rhaenyra must be in charge around here.

“So how’d I end up married to Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Daemon?” You ask in the poshest British accent you can muster.

“You threw yourself at my feet saying ‘Please Rhaenyra, I cannot live without you! You are the sun that brightens the sky and the stars that guide ships home!’” Rhaenyra teased. You sit up to see that Rhaenyra isn’t alone, she brought back some balding man with her. 

“I didn’t say that-” You protest.

“Really?” Daemon laughs. “My queen, it’s not proper to toy with someone who is ill.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rhaenyra says, raising a brow. “You seemed rather close when I came in earlier.”

You groan. How did you manage to survive these two for five years. 

!!SMUT BELOW!!

PREVIEW FOR PART TWO

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his. 

NOTE: Hey all! I'm not dead, sorry for disappearing! Life happened (new job, had to travel home for a funeral). But, I got my shit back together after taking some time for myself and I'm ready to give y'all the stories I've been cooking up. I have some steamy and inspiring requests I'm working on for Feyd Rautha (so if you requested...they're coming). Glad to be back and BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR PART 2!!!! - Lacie <3

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #married life #isekai #game of thrones #reader insert #fem reader #hotd daemon #hotd rhaenyra #hotd fic

[newtthetranswriter]

Could I request Gojo x male reader where the reader is a ballet dancer who is a part of the Zenin clan but ran away when they were in high school and Gojo doesn't see him again till adulthood and Gojo falls in love all over again and reader never stopped being in love and they reconnect

Dancing with Curses

Word Count: 3822

Paring: Satoru Gojo x male Zenin Reader

Warning: talks of Gojo’s past arc, the Zenin clan is trash, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc Gojo, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Hello again, I truly did enjoy writing all of your requests. They gave me just enough information to feel free with creating the story but still having a base to work off of. Anyway I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    Y/n Zenin may have been lucky enough to be born with a decent cursed technique but the fact that he had made it clear he was not interested in following the tradition of being a sorcerer, made it so he was looked down upon by the whole clan. For years he tried to fight the system but as the time for high school approached, Y/n was forced to make a choice. He decided that he would follow his family's wishes for just long enough to get enough money to escape the world he grew up in. For him going to Jujutsu High was just a stepping stone to reach his goal, he never expected to add another item to the list of things his family hated him for.

   As previously mentioned, Y/n just wanted to save enough money to escape from the world of Jujutsu, he never planned to catch the eyes of Satoru Gojo. Apparently Gojo had been enamored with how graceful Y/n was with his technique and how he was able to mix Jujutsu with ballet seamlessly.  Y/n on the other hand had felt Gojo’s eyes on him, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the beauty in the user of the six eyes. But Y/n knew that if he let himself fall or grow attached he would be further trapped in this dark world. So Y/n put his emotions in a box and distanced himself.

   Finally after almost three years of dealing with the chaos and horrors of the world Y/n left. Having one of his underclassmen die in the line of duty, followed by one of his classmates turning against them, Y/n was done. He couldn’t handle the thought of spending anymore time watching people die for no reason, or seeing people who were once all about protecting turning to murder. So he gathered his belongings and left in the middle of the night. Leaving the world of Jujutsu behind, almost completely. 

   Being an outcast from a young age Y/n knew the signs of the Zenins pushing kids out of the inner circle. And even if it was still early and there were a few years left for her technique to develop, Y/n had a gut feeling Maki would need someone on her side. So before he completely wrote off the Zenin clan, he wrote Maki a letter. The girl was barely 4 but was able to understand the simple contents of the letter. Y/n had simply explained that he was always there for her if she needed anything and asked her to not share the existence of the letter with anyone. He also left his new phone number, telling her to call if she ever needed anything. After leaving the letter with his young cousin he left.

   When it became clear to the Zenin clan as a whole that Y/n had up and ran away, they decided to act like he never existed. Writing his disappearance off as a blessing to not have to deal with him ever again. While most of the Jujutsu world moved on from the sudden loss, Satoru was unable to follow their lead. He spent the better part of five years looking for him. Unfortunately for him, Y/n did not want to be found and managed to hide himself well. Satoru eventually gave up.

  Fast forward eleven years, and Y/n had put very little thought into the world he left behind. He took his freedom and did what he wanted. He became a professional dancer, letting his worries wash away. It was a relief to not think about death and curses everyday. But alas all good things come to an end at some point.

  After a particularly tiring performance Y/n felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing that the id indicated it was the one person he kept in touch with, he answered. “Hey, Maki what’s up? Is everything ok?” He asked, concerned. Even though Maki was only four when she got the letter from Y/n she respected his wishes and managed to keep it secret all these years. The reason Y/n became concerned was that when Maki got a phone they agreed she would only call if something was seriously wrong, otherwise she would text monthly just to check in.

  The calm teen’s response nearly startled the man. “I know you said you would never return to Jujutsu High, but we need all the help we can get.” Maki explained, there was a hint of worry in her voice and Y/n knew that something was seriously wrong if Maki was asking him to come back. Before Y/n could ask for more information, Maki continued. “Some crazy guy declared war on Jujutsu Society and even though we have Gojo on our side everyone seems worried. There has been an influx of Sorcerers on campus and even Gojo seems concerned. I normally wouldn’t ask for you to come back but if Gojo is worried wouldn’t that mean having all hands on deck be the best course of action.” 

  Y/n took a moment to think about what Maki had told him. If someone declared war on Jujutsu Society then no big deal, curse users are stupid. But if said person had Gojo worried about it then there was only one person who could be leading this fight. Knowing that fact led Y/n to make a choice he never thought he would. “If it’s bad enough for Gojo to be worried, then having as many sorcerers as possible is a good idea. I’ll be there in the morning.” He knew he would likely regret going back to his old life but he knew the reality, it’s almost impossible to leave the Jujutsu world and stay gone.

   “Thank you, I know you hate all of this but I’m sure you’ll be able to leave again when everything is done.” With that Y/n said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. If he was really going to be returning to Jujutsu Society, he knew there was a very slim chance of ever getting out again, that is if he even managed to survive the impending war. 

   The next day as he promised Maki, he made his way to Tokyo. When he reached the path leading to the hidden highschool, he paused. Debating actually entering the barrier that protected the school and alerting everyone of his presence or just turning around and telling Maki he couldn’t help out. But before he could chicken out and run away again, he felt the presence of familiar cursed energy. Looking up at the stairs that would seal his fate of being part of this fight stood the one person he hoped he could avoid, Satoru Gojo.

   It was clear that Gojo had changed since Y/n last saw him, having swapped out his usual dark sunglasses for white badges wrapped around his eyes, his hair was also longer and stood up with makeshift blindfold in place. Seeing the white haired male sent feelings Y/n had long suppressed bubbling to the surface.

   It wasn’t any better for the Strongest Sorcerer. He couldn’t believe his eyes, even if he knew that his cursed technique is never wrong, his heart had a hard time believing that the Y/n Zenin was standing in front of him. Gojo had so many questions, like why did he run away, why didn’t he say anything, and most of all why is he back. Snapping out of his thoughts, Gojo moved down the stairs quickly, taking two at a time with ease thanks to his long legs.

  “What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than he intended, but with recent events and the bubbling of long forgotten feelings, Gojo couldn’t help it.

  Shaking his head to clear the fog, Y/n took in the tall man in front of him. “Well hello to you, Gojo. For the record I’m only here because Maki said that someone declared war and it had even you worried. And knowing you only one person could make you worried about a silly threat. So here I am, isn’t better to have extra hands on bored than facing Geto with fewer people.” Y/n answered, accidentally letting it slip that Maki had been able to contact him all this time. “Now that I’m here, would you mind telling me what exactly Geto is planning.”

   Ignoring the request for information about the situation, Gojo focused more on the mention of his student. “Since when has Maki been able to contact you, she was like four when you left. Why would she call you for help?” When Y/n had left after the worry of what happened had passed, Gojo had been angry, and now that anger was showing itself all over again.

   “Yes Gojo, Maki was four when I left. But you forget I was also raised in the hell scape that is the Zenin house. I also know what it looks like when those douchebags start making a child an outcast. When I left I gave her my phone number and told her if she needed me she could call. And you would never guess what happened. She saw that her teacher was worried over some psychopath declaring war on the people she cares about and called someone she trusts to ask for help. I’m not here for anyone but her.” Y/n clarified, and it was clear from his tone that he truly meant it. He was only coming back to the world of curses to help his young cousin. Not giving Gojo a chance to respond, Y/n brushed past him heading up the steps into the base of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

    Gojo was left stunned by his own stupidity. The only guy he can remember ever truly having feelings for was right in front of him, and instead of expressing his joy of seeing him again he stuck his foot in his mouth. Watching after Y/n as he left, Gojo began thinking of ways to apologize for what just happened and ways to hopefully convince Y/n to stay even after they beat Geto.

   On December 24th, Y/n opted to stay at Jujutsu High with Maki and Yuta as a line of defense just in case. Afterall he wasn’t technically a member of Jujutsu Society so it’s not like the Higher ups could actually tell him what to do. He also had a bad feeling about them sending everyone except a couple Assistant supervisors to the front lines. If Geto had asked Yuta to join his cause wouldn’t that mean he had an interest in the boy. So when the veil was lowered over the school, Y/n jumped into action.

    He knew he didn’t stand much chance against a special grade like Geto, but he couldn’t just let the lunatic kill a young sorcerer. Y/n’s technique had only earned him the status of Grade 1 back in highschool, but that was eleven years ago and this would be his first fight since he left. He could only hope he still had the strength to hold off the Curse User long enough for help to arrive. 

   His own fight with Geto didn’t last long before a new contender entered the courtyard where the two adults were exchanging blows. Having also noticed the veil, Maki opted to join the fight. So now it was two on one, the two Zenin outcasts vs. the special grade Suguru Geto. The cousins were able to hold off Geto for about thirty minutes before Geto got the upper hand. The younger of the two had been severely injured, having likely multiple broken bones and severe cuts leaving her half conscious in a pool of her own blood. The older of the two was not much better off. Y/n had sustained a few broken ribs, one of which he wouldn’t be surprised to find out if it was digging into his lung as it was becoming difficult to breathe. But he was still able to stand and so he was still able to fight.

  There was a brief moment that allowed Y/n to catch his breath, and that was when Geto paused, announcing a hole was made in the barrier. He seemed confident enough that whoever it was would be too slow and he could beat Y/n and take Yuta before they arrived. Y/n took in a few deep breaths, sensing the cursed energy of two people approaching fast. Seeing that Geto wasn’t reacting to it, Y/n waited until the wall exploded next to the long haired man before striking again.

  Unfortunately even with the added help of Panda and Toge, they were still unable to beat him. When they turned their backs on Geto to check on Maki, the curse user took the chance to take out the oldest of the group. Striking Y/n in the back with curse, Geto managed to force the broken rib that was already threatening to puncture one of his lungs right through said lung. The force of the blow knocked what little air Y/n had in his chest out, and now with the loss of function in one of his lungs it was nearly impossible for Y/n to catch his breath. The two first years who were still able to fight tried to fight back but were unsuccessful.

  Y/n fought to stay awake and even tried to warn Yuta who had appeared on the scene to run away, but alas with barely any oxygen getting into his body, he could barely make a sound. He was fading in and out of consciousness and couldn’t help but wish for Shoko to be there to heal his wounds. Slowly suffocating was really fucking painfull. The last thing he remembered before blacking out completely was Yuta using Rika to move the four injured sorcerers to safety and applying his own reversed curse technique to them. As the world faded Y/n silently thanked Gojo for not executing the young special grade.

   Unlike the other three who woke up soon after Yuta beat Geto, Y/n was still unconscious three days later. While Yuta had been able to heal the majority of the injuries y/n had sustained, it seemed Shoko was needed for some of the more intense ones. When word got to Gojo that Y/n was injured and that even after Shoko had been able to treat his wounds was still asleep, Gojo was worried. He spent as much time as he could spare sitting by his bed in the infirmary. 

   Gojo spent the time thinking. Debating on how to thank Y/n for risking his life for the young sorcerers and trying to decide if it would be a good time to tell him he loved him. Yeah Gojo had officially decided that he loved Y/n Zenin, it wasn’t just a school crush. Having spent eleven years apart and suddenly seeing him again reminded him of everything he loved about Y/n. Even though he admitted to himself that he loved him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe telling him would be a curse to the man who clearly just wanted to escape the world of Jujutsu. 

   Caught up in his own reminiscing, he failed to notice that Y/n had started to wake up. He only noticed when he heard the quiet groan from next to him. Looking over he could see Y/n squinting his eyes at the light from the open window, and trying to take in his surroundings while still laying flat on the bed. Gojo quickly stood up, closing the blinds to darken the room, and then moved to help Y/n sit up. “Here let me help you sit up.” He said, causing Y/n to look at him bewildered. “I know I was rude the last time we talked but I was worried when they said you still didn’t wake up after both Yuta and Shoko used rct on you.” Gojo explained quickly.

   Taking a moment to process the words said to him, Y/n looked around the room. Seeing a glass of water on the bed side table, he quickly took a drink before speaking. “How long have I been asleep? And what happened to the kids, is everyone okay?” He wasn’t that worried about himself, his main concern was whether or not the young sorcerers had made it out of the battle alive.

   “Everyone is fine. Well, everyone on our side, that is, the kids are all okay. They’re taking a few days to relax before getting back to training. As for how long you were asleep for, well it's been about three days.” Gojo informed him. “And before you ask, Geto won’t be a problem anymore.” His tone of voice shifted from glad to something lingering with sadness.

  Picking up on the change of tone Y/n understood what he was implying. “I’m sorry for your loss, I know you were really close before everything. But it’s great to hear that the kids are okay.” He said truthfully. Taking a moment to think of what to say next, one thing popped into his mind and he couldn’t shake it. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you have some important mission that only the Strongest can deal with?” Y/n asked, trying to switch the subject.

   Having spent three days thinking over and planning for how to speak his mind didn’t prepare him for what he was going to say.  “Um, I just wanted to express my thanks for you risking your life to protect the first years. If you hadn’t decided to show up or stay behind while we all went to the front line, who knows what would have happened to those four. I mean sure Panda probably would have been ok, but the others might not have been so lucky.” Gojo thanked him. 

   Y/n nodded along, but that didn’t fully answer his question. Gojo was there when he woke up, if he just wanted to say thank you then he could have done it after someone else told him Y/n was awake. “I think they would have been just fine. Maki is a strong fighter and Toge has a great understanding of his technique. And Yuta has a surprisingly great understanding of cursed energy for someone who just learned about curses a few months ago. But the strength of your students aside, Why are you here? And don’t say it’s just to say thank you. You were here when I woke up, if you just wanted to thank me then you could have gone about your day and then thanked me when someone told you I was awake.” He confronted the white haired male.

   Gojo scratched the back of his head trying to decide if he should say he just happened to stop by to check on him right before he woke, or if he should tell Y/n the truth. Realizing he had been quiet for too long and that if he did lie Shoko would probably rat him out either way, he came to the conclusion that honesty was the best policy. “Well, I’ve kinda been here the whole time. Like I said before I was really worried when Shoko told me you hadn’t woken up after being treated. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained. Watching as Y/n’s face shifted from confusion to shock, Gojo couldn’t stop himself from talking more. “And I know this is probably a terrible time to bring this up, especially with how I reacted when you showed up the other day. But I really care about you Y/n. When you left back in highschool, I thought something terrible happened to you and I searched for you for years. I eventually figured that if you went through the struggle of leaving with out a trace there was probably a reason and so I stopped looking. But the worry turned to hurt and anger and I guess seeing you suddenly and hearing that you only came back for Maki’s sake, made that anger bubble up again. I understand you left for a reason and you probably want to leave as soon as possible after all this life is hell for anyone. But I do want you to know that you mean a lot to me.” This was the first time Y/n had seen or heard of Gojo letting his emotions out in such a clear way. Gojo was always calm and only really expressed deep emotions when fighting or teaching, so having him say all of that really shocked Y/n.

   Y/n took a few moments to process everything Gojo said, before making the second life changing decision of the month. “While I left because this life is taxing and full of hardship, I don’t know if I can abandon it again. I wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping teach the next generation of sorcerers.” Y/n explained. “This isn’t a permanent situation though and I will have some requirements that need to be accepted before I commit to it. After all, I can't leave the ones I care about to fight alone if I’m able to lend a helping hand.” he finished making his intentions to at least stick around for a short while clear.

   Even though Gojo was happy to hear that Y/n was going to stick around, he was confused by the wording of the last sentence. “Wait you said ‘the ones’  you care about, I thought you came back for Maki.” He couldn’t help but ask.

   Y/n just laughed before responding. “You’re right I did come back for Maki. But there are more people here that I care about than just her. Now I may have just woken up from a three day nap, but I’m exhausted so if you don’t mind I’m going back to sleep.” With that Y/n layed back down rolling to face away from the tall sorcerer.

   “Who else do you care about here? I’m confused.” Gojo really wanted answers.

   Y/n responded even though he was half asleep. “That’s for me to know and for you to figure out Satoru.” And with that Gojo was left as the only one awake in the room.

   He sat in silence processing what he had been told. And when he registered that y/n had not called him Gojo but used his first name for the first time, he couldn’t hide his smile. Deciding to let Y/n rest in peace he left to inform everyone about Y/n’s decision to consider staying at Jujutsu high for a while.

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x male reader #jjk x male reader #x male reader #newt writes #Newt's 2024 pride event

[keepittoyourshelf]

Since the algorithm on my various socials thinks I actually want to see a ton of people simping over Rhys and ACOTAR, let’s get down to the bones of why that algorithm is fucked beyond all comprehension, shall we?

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m pro-Tamlin, not in the sense that I approve of what he did, but from the place that I believe he’s worthy of forgiveness in the same way any of the men that SJM otherwise glorifies in her work is worthy of it for any of their transgressions.

I shouldn’t have to do a paint by numbers thing here to make this obvious, but based on the actual text written by SJM in her own words, Tamlin has objectively done nothing better or worse than Rhysand has.

The big complaint is his temper, of course, and pro-Rhysies love to bullshit about how the red flags were all over book 1 and SJM is such a master at foreshadowing.

He locked Feyre in a house against her will to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be caged. How is that any worse than Rhysand…drugging her and making her give him lap dances, in order to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be dancing naked in front of strangers?

Go on. I’ll wait for your rationalization.

Rhysand’s whole shtick was that he’s only playing the villain to keep Velaris (and only Velaris) safe…those fucks in the Hewn City can eat a bag of dicks, right? But tell me again how Tamlin is the really bad one for enforcing a tithe because it’s unfair to those who can’t afford it (fair point). But Rhysand chooses to save the one city in his court that has zero problems. Let’s let those that might already be suffering from poverty get kidnapped and tortured by a psychopath. That’s probably better than a tithe, right?

And let’s not forget how Tamlin mocked Feyre and Rhys at the High Lords meeting. While funny, it was in poor taste. At least Rhysand didn’t publicly mock Tamlin. He had the decency to do it privately when he went out of his way to go to a deeply troubled man’s house and, in the midst of an obvious mental health crisis, not only had the gall to ask for resources from a man that has no resources because his own wife fucking destroyed them out of spite, but proceeds to rub in his triumph over a man that has nothing left. Nothing to see there, right?

Even if you could ignore all of that (and you’d have to be willfully fucking thick to do so, which a lot of these people are), I shall leave you with Tamlin’s role as a spy for Hybern. That’s obviously supposed to be a real shock because TaMliN BaD at this point, so why would anyone believe him? It’s not like he had a really good explanation like Rhys gave when he murdered literal children and innocents just to ensure Amarantha didn’t know how noble he actually was. Right? RIGHT?! And it’s not like anyone would have a harder time believing someone who had played evil and done actually evil things for the “greater good” (a collectivist dog whistle if there ever was one) for fifty fucking years over the dude that suddenly goes bad after being a progressive and respected high lord for the same period of time? I mean, it’s not like we’re dealing with severe mental anguish and trauma here. That’s crazy talk.

Shadow Daddy does no wrong. Even when he does. Because reasons.

Those idiots on TikTok making stupid videos showing their bf’s being all shocked and I KNEW IT when Tamlin “turns” can chew glass along with all those dipshits selling mugs that say “Tamlin’s Tears” on Etsy right next to merch glorifying a man that literally gaslit his soulmate into believing that forced drunken naked lap dances were actually a good thing, when you think about it.

SJM isn’t a master of foreshadowing. She’s a sloppy writer of moderately entertaining fiction that has a kink for glorifying severely unhealthy behaviors without the benefit of a trigger warning.

Fuck off if you think that’s all okay and think that anyone that says Tamlin isn’t any worse comparatively is the crazy one. Projection is a real disorder. Look it up. Right after you order your 543rd Rhysand candle.

#anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti sjm #anti feyre #pro tamlin #anti inner circle #anti acotar #sjm critical

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.  

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self.  She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her. 

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.  

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.  

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job. 

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative. 

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.  

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?  

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.  

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.  

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.  

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work. 

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift criticism #anti swifties #ex swiftie #taylor swift #taylor swift critical #literary theory #literary criticism #pathos #rhetorical appeal #rhetoric #rhetorical situation

[backtothefanfiction]

Make Me Forget | tasm!Peter Imagine

Summary: After Harry nearly strangled you, things can never be the same again. (A follow on from Crushed)

Warnings: 18+ Only, smut, cheating, guilt, violent boyfriend, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N- I never planned on making a follow up to crushed but this just came into my head and I needed to get it out. This is a quick one before bed, but smutty because I’m trying to get my head back into the smutty game to complete some of my other WIPs. Also I haven’t written for Peter in a while and thought he deserved some love.

You: Hey…

You: Can we talk?

You: Please?

You: ….

You: Peter?

You: Please Peter, don’t ignore me.

You: ….

You: Please….

You: I need you.

It had been nearly two weeks now since the night Harry almost killed you. The night that Peter saved your life. The night you kissed him and asked you to stay. When you had woken the next morning, he had already gone and he’d clearly been avoiding you ever since.

You tried to push the whole thing to the back of your mind. Tried to play along with Harry and pretend nothing had ever happened. But ever since that night, it was like something had died inside you.

You didn’t want to look at Harry in a different light, but you couldn’t help it. Although you both tried the bruises around your neck, the one clear reminder of Harry’s little episode remained; and although you covered them with a scarf until they disappeared, you still felt them as if they were burned on your skin. Every time you breathed, it was like the scarf that covered them, grew tight and brought you back to that moment every time.

All you wanted to do was talk to someone about it. As Peter was the only other person who knew, you wanted to talk to him about it, but you hadn’t seen or heard a single word from him since that night. You dared not ask Harry about Peter either, for fear it would trigger something. So you just sat and let it eat you from the inside out alone.

In all truth, the moment it had happened you knew you wanted to leave Harry, but every time you tried to do it, you couldn’t, guilt eating at your insides like a parasite. Guilt for knowing it wasn’t truly Harry’s fault. Guilt for knowing his illness would kill him before long and not being able to make him go through it alone. Guilt for kissing Peter, Harry’s best friend…. and of course for wanting to do it again.

You: Peter, please talk to me!

It was no use. No matter how many times you tried, he just seemed to ignore any attempt you made to contact him.

2 weeks turned into 4. The bruises faded completely. Harry was trying to do everything he could to make it up to you. You knew Peter had been around because Harry began to bring him up in conversation again; but it was clear he was making sure to see Harry only when you weren’t around.

At 6 weeks, things began to turn again. Although he never laid a finger on you, Harry became spiteful again. He would rant about work. Rant about random people he’d run into on the street. When he grew extra heated you would see a flash of green in his veins at his neck or he’d smash a glass and it would take you straight back to that night. But he’d always see you flinch. Always realise when he’d gone too far… until one night, he didn’t.

“WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?” Harry screamed, the highball glass in his hand collided with the marble floors and shattered into a million pieces. “I MEAN I-“ he said storming towards you, his finger prodding at his chest, “I!” He reiterated louder, “PAY FOR HIS FUCKING SALERY!”

You shrank back against the wall as he stomped passed you, crossing to the bar in the living room to fix himself another drink. You knew it was a bad idea to let him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, worried it would only anger him more.

“The ONLY reason he’s still even on the board is because he was my father’s best friend.” He seemed to laugh at that. “As if you could imagine anything so ridiculous as my father having a best friend. SOME BEST FRIEND, LETTING HIM DYE ALONE!” He knocked back the last of his drink, before that glass collided with the wall. Suddenly it became all too clear this wasn’t about the guy on the board at all- but Peter.

“Harry-“ you said tentatively as you stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly had happened, but the closer you got, the clearer the green in his veins showed. When his eyes locked on yours, you knew he was gone.

“DON’T HARRY ME, SWEETNESS! WE BOTH KNOW THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” He spat as he crossed the room towards you. “You in your little SLUT dresses! Fluttering your WHORE LASHES all over the place.”

It was like walking into a lions den wearing the famous Lady GaGa meat dress, you knew you’d fucked up, quickly trying to step back and run away before you got eaten, but it was no use as he charged at you. “Harry- stop- please!” You cried, “I don’t know what you’re taking about. I haven’t seen Peter in weeks. HARRY! PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!”

You raced around the room, attempting to place large pieces of furniture between you. To give yourself enough space to get out. At the memory of what happened before, your throat grew tight. Words began to fail you. You knew you were on your own this time. You had to get out. You needed to distract him. You used the only thing you could think of that Harry hated more than anything else lately- Spider-Man.

You made your eyes dart towards the window behind him and back again. Then you did it a second time, catching his focus before you said, “Hey, is that Spider-Man?”

“SPIDER-MAN!” Harry fumed, his anger dialling up a notch, but with his new hatred peaked, he turned his back on you to face the window. As he stalked towards the rooftop doors, ready to fling them open in search of the masked vigilante, ready to curse him out, you ran. He barely had time to realise what you had done and come back and curse you out for it, when you were already in the elevator and on your way back down to the lobby.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕸️🕷️🕷️

When Peter got back to his apartment, the last thing he was expecting was to find you, curled up in a ball on his doorstep waiting for him.

“Y/N?” He asked confused. When you looked up at him, he immediately knew something was really wrong. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying. He immediately knew it was because of Harry. Peter frowned, remembering what had happened last time, sudden fear coursed through him. Fear… and guilt. He should have never ignored you. Never left you alone. No matter how hard it hurt to see you with him. “What did he do?” He almost snarled, but knew it was the wrong move as he saw the panic and fear in your eyes.

He quickly softened and you picked yourself up off the floor so he could get to the door to open it for you both. Neither of you said anything more until you were inside. The silence as you both made your way through the tiny apartment, Peter dumping the bag of groceries that had been in his hand on the small kitchen side, gave you time to compose yourself, to wipe at your face and the last traces of tears on your cheeks, as you took in the boxy studio apartment. You sat yourself down on the end of his bed.

“Do you want anything?” He asked as he quickly put away his groceries; a carton of milk, a box of sugary cereal, eggs and three frozen pizzas- all pepperoni. “A glass of water or-“

“I want you to make me forget.” Your small voice said as you looked down at your hands.

His hand hesitated a moment, half frozen on its way to get a cup out of the cupboard. You mustered up some confidence and stood again, moving across the floor towards him. He slowly lowered his hand from the cupboard as your hands reached for him. Your fingers clawed at his shirt with need as you came to a stop and stared up into his soft brown eyes. The only eyes you had thought of for the last 6 weeks. The ones that had got you through. You then lowered your eyes to his lips. “Please, make me forget.” You spoke to them, your eyes heavy, your need for him now you were stood before him once more growing too great.

“Y/N, I can’t. You know- Harry- I”

“It’s over. Me and Harry are done. I’m not going back- I can’t- just… please.” You said, your eyes meeting his once more, softly pleading with him. He hesitated as he stared at you, clearly weighing up the right thing to do in his head. “Please, Pete,” you whispered as your hands ran back up his sides, your eyes falling back to his lips, “please just make me forget.”

You reached up on tiptoes to capture his lips in yours. When his hands gripped hold of your arms you stopped, moving your head away. Sure he was about to push you away. You watched closely as he fought to push away, to do the right thing- but he just pulled you in closer.

His mouth was on yours hungrily as you both leaned into the kiss, your arms flying around his neck, his arms twisting around your back as he lifted you off the floor, walking you both towards the bed. As he tried to place you back down on it, you refused to let go of him, pulling him down on top of you, your tongue reaching to lick into his mouth. He tasted of coffee and sugar, far from the bitterness and whiskey Harry tasted off.

His fingers were gentle as he pushed your hair back away from your face, his fingers tangling with it behind your ears, the safety and security of his touch making you soften beneath him. The realisation made you well up and when Peter wiped his thumb across your cheek and it came away wet, he quickly moved back.

“You’re crying.” He said.

“I know.” You replied as you reach to pull him back to you.

“Wait-“ he said.

“It’s okay. You replied, they’re happy tears.” You said softly, but he didn’t quite believe you.

“Pete, please, you just-“ you swallowed away your tears, willing him to believe you, “you make me feel safe.”

“And that made you cry?” You didn’t say anything, but he could see the truth in your eyes- and it made him soften. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, as he wiped away at the trail your last tear had left behind. “I’m sorry he did this to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there-“

“You’re here now Pete,” you reassured him, “please, Peter, I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t want to think about him. I just want you,” you said, breathing the last words into him. “Please… make me forget.”

He paused for a moment, letting you know with his eyes that he understood, a silent promise that he would. He had already let you down once- had been letting you down these past 6 weeks. He wouldn’t let you down again.

When he leaned back down to capture your lips with his again, they were softer, his kisses slower, more gentle, with more purpose. Lazily pulling every little tingle, relaxing every tight pent up muscle from you, one kiss at a time. He moved from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, your fingers curling into the strands of hair on the back of his head. He suckled and licked his way all the way down the exposed skin on your chest. When he reached the neckline of your top he stopped, moving away and shuffling himself back, his fingers reaching for the fastening of your trousers.

He paused only for a second to double check this was truly what you wanted and when you silently nodded your head at him, too relaxed, too dreamy and drunk on him, he finally pulled down your trousers and your underwear, exposing your lower half to him.

When he knelt down and parted your legs, you barely had time to acknowledge the cold air against your sex as he covered it with his warm tongue, slowly licking and kissing his way between your folds. He relished every sigh and moan that escaped your mouth. You wanted him to make you forget, but he took his time, savouring every second so he would always remember.

When he sucked your clit between his lips, your back arched off of his bed, body squirming with over stimulation, breath hitching and squeaking in your throat. He hoped to all gods it was healed enough and that you’d let him slide his cock down it later.

When he began to work two of his fingers into your now dripping cunt, curling them, begging for you to give him all you had, you sighed his name and he swore he almost came in his pants.

He seemed to drag out your pleasure for nearly an hour, building you up, letting you cool back down again until you were a pleading puddle, putty in his hands with nothing on your mind other than him.

When you whined, “Peter, please,” after your third lazy orgasm, he finally obliged, climbing back up on top of you, safe in the knowledge that the only thing you will ever have on your mind now, for the rest of time, will be this moment and him.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #harry osborn x reader

[sunshineandspencer]

Idiot (Iridescent, Part 7)

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Spencer Reid, in the face of his own emotions, crashes and burns.

Word Count: 888

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™

Parts: Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6, Pt8

Spencer is back in Penelope’s office not even a week later.

In the middle of the breakroom, he’d snapped, loud and harsh, at Ava. Then let her storm off and clock out of work to go home early.

Since realising his emotions, he did the only realistic thing and distanced himself from Ava immediately. Of course she had noticed, but didn’t take it too personally, just giving him the extra time to get back to whatever he deemed as normal.

But by Friday, she’d had enough and had gently started prodding him for answers in the morning. His irritation, and fear of being caught out, caused him to finally lash out.

Once Penelope found out what he’d done, considering how quickly word spread, she had dragged him back to the cave. For a much worse conversation than the one they’d had the week before.

He doesn’t even get a plush this time, just shoved into a chair as she stood over him, hands on her hips.

“What did you say to her?”

She watched, gleefully, as he squirmed in his seat. Wanting to break through that thick, somehow genius brain of his. God, he just wanted to talk about Ava, but not like this - emotions are hard.

“That.. she’s a brown-nosed suck up who needs to stop fishing for things to do, because nothing she agrees to do will get people to like her.”

In his defence, it was supposed to come from a good place, but his meaning got lost in the translation and irritation from the morning. Along with the original reason he’d blown up in the first place.

Ava is a pushover, they both know that, most people do, which is why she gets used so often by people who don’t want to do their own work. She’s far too sweet for her own good, and whenever anyone asks her to do their work, she does. When someone came up in the breakroom to get her to finish off some reports, he finally exploded.

It was for her own good, wanting her to take care of herself and focus on her own work rather than other people’s. He’s right, he just.. chose the wrong words.

“I just.. Penelope, she already has too much on her plate, but she keeps accepting work from people. She should learn to say no to people, even if I didn’t say it in the.. best way.”

From the way Penelope’s hand twitched, he’s suddenly very glad that Penelope doesn’t like violence, or would have definitely been slapped by now. Shifting slightly as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

But, in her defence, it was finally hitting him just how bad he’d fucked up.

In his head, he had been sorting out his thoughts, and knew he would’ve eventually had a perfect way to bring up his concerns with Ava. But he’d been overly stimulated and lashed out.

He was going to address Ava’s issues, and he did, in a roundabout way. At the time, unable to think properly, it seemed like the best way to deal with it, directly telling her what he found wrong with what she did. Not liking that she spread herself so thin for people who cared so little.

It felt like the wrong words for the right situation.

Until he was met with a glaring Penelope and zero way out.

“Are you telling me that you’d finally come to terms with liking her, and the first thing you did was insult her.. to her face?!”

“Would you have preferred it if I said it behind her back?”

“I would prefer for you to start using at least one of your 187 IQ points!”

Okay, he definitely deserved that, and he was trying to resist the urge to sulk and pout, because he knew it definitely wouldn’t help his case. But he really felt like he was being scolded by his mother.

It is working, however.

All he could think about was the way Ava’s eyes had immediately widened. Letting him see in heartwrenching detail, the way each and every golden speck around her pupil dull with shock and embarrassment.

Her lips pursing as she shoved the files to his chest with a terse “you fucking do it then, since clearly it won’t make them like me”, before she stormed off to Emily’s office.

Penelope had watched the realisation dawn on his face, quickly flooding that emotion over with shame and guilt. Intervening right before he slipped from apologetic to wallowing.

She has a solution.

Ushering him up and out of her office, not paying attention to his spluttering as she practically shoved him out. Twittering happily as she felt her plans falling into place.

“Flowers - lilacs - and a card, oh, and you best get some wine. Rosé is her favourite. I’ll put through your paperwork for a day off and let Emily know, do not mess up with the first woman you’ve liked in years.”

For a few moments, they just stood facing each other, Spencer taking it all in and Penelope grinning at him. But then his smile ticked up until it matched her own, leaning in to quickly smush a kiss to her cheek and then turn to half-sprint down the corridor. Calling out over his shoulder.

“Thanks Pen! I owe you one!”

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x oc

[blurglesmurfklaine]

hello nobody asked but here are more unsolicited Newsies Uno ReVerse thoughts that I can NOT get out of my head

Crutchie is Jack’s brother, but he never expects him to go out selling with his disability

When Les and Davey meet Crutchie for the first time, Les tells Jack something borderline offensive like “Why didn’t you tell me youse had a little brother with a bum leg? Between my face and his leg, we coulda been making MILLIONS this whole time!”

Davey is appropriately embarrassed and apologizes profusely on his brother’s behalf

Davey is obsessed with Portland, Oregon (it’s his Santa Fe) somewhere he can get away from the heated claustrophobia of the city, lock himself away in a cabin and finally put down on paper the little stories he tells himself to get through the day

Jack volunteers to go to Brooklyn with Davey

Les is the one hauled away to the refuge after Seize The Day

David and Katherine are the ones who hit it off, and Jack is The Pining One (TM)

Post-Rally, the Something To Believe In scene starts off with Kath confronting Davey and i don’t have details but I do have this piece of dialogue:

“If you weren’t a girl, you’d find out exactly why they call me Mouth.” “I think your inability to shut up might have something to do with it.” “No, it’s because when I hear someone talking about something they have no idea about, I aim for the mouth. And I don’t miss.”

And then Kath kisses him and Davey’s like omg??? Do I…..??? Like girls??? (Bc living in a house full of boys there’s no WAY he doesn’t already know he’s gay (umbrella term))

This Affects Post Canon bc I said so. Fun Post Canon Stuff (it’s fun for ME. Probably not for yall. You’ll call it angst or something):

Jack catches a Davey and Katherine kiss when they win the strike and it kind of makes him Unwell

Davey gets a job writing for The World

Jack has a hard time adjusting going back to school, can’t focus, realizes he’s happiest when he’s with the newsies (and Davey)

He brings up to Medda the idea of dropping out to get a job. She agrees because she sees how unhappy he is and school really just isn’t I for him

Kath gets him a job as an artist at The World

This means he has to see Davey and Kath Together Every Day and it makes him even more Unwell (although he loves the art part of it!)

Davey notices this because he is Davey

Because he is Davey and is the smartest man in the room but also the biggest idiot on the planet, he completely misconstrues the reason Jack is Being Weird

So Davey invites Jack to hang out one on one, without Katherine and Jack accepts at first but it gets harder and harder and Davey is more engrained in his life than ever and he just can’t do it

So Jack stops interacting with Davey at work, blows him off outside of it, and generally starts distancing himself and Davey is totally clueless

Finally, he goes to Katherine and complains about it and the conversation goes something like this:

“I thought spending time alone with him, away from you—no offense—would make him feel better. You know, remind him that no matter what’s going on with you and me that he’s still my friend.”

“I think that’s part of the problem, Davey.”

“I mean yeah. Truth be told if he and I weren’t friends I doubt you and I would even be an issue. I think he’d just go for it.”

“…… What?”

“I think he’d ask you on a date outright, instead of feeling guilty about his feelings for you.”

“….. oh my god you fucking idiot.”

Don’t ask me how this is resolved because i have absolutely no idea :)

#david jacobs #jack kelly #katherine plumber #newsies #livesies #uksies #tutsies #truthfully I’m nit usually a bi!david girlie but it just FITS it FEELS CORRECT for this au and I’m ibsessed okay #honestly it’s bc tutsies Davey and Kath had so much chemistry it made me ship them

[knightyoomyoui]

The 1% Of Chances | TWICE Jeongyeon x Male Reader Fanfic: CHAPTER 10

NOTE: We're down to two chapters before this book officially closes! We are now crossing into the storm where no rainbows can be seen, which means I'm giving an early warning already that this is going to be full on angst... until the end(?) A quick additional note from yours truly, this features some medical information and I want to say that I'm not entirely sure if these are accurate, but I swear that I did some research as much as I can have then I tried to intepret then all from my own understanding. Basically, I just wanted to include this for the sake of the story, as I believe it would be important when the twists arrives (yes there will be) on the last remaining chapters. Enjoy!

YN and Jeongyeon are making their way through a certain room after a call informed them that they would be met by someone urgently. They followed as they couldn’t even reject it anyway, and it puts them today in the JYPE building, where they just unloaded from the elevator to reach the 4th floor.

Jeongyeon is holding your hand, and when you two stopped in front of the door, she glanced at you and softly smiled, to which you reacted the same, adding it with an assuring nod.

Jeongyeon knocked on the door, and they heard the person inside shout, “Come in.” Twisting the doorknob, the door opened, and they got exposed to JYP, who was just writing a song while playing a guitar on his couch.

“Hi, pd-nim”

“Good morning, have you two already eaten breakfast?”, JYP smiled and looked at them while he’s plucking some strings on his guitar.

“We did.”

“Good. Well, I haven’t but that can wait for later.” He placed the guitar on the empty space next to him. “I wanna talk about something first and promise this won’t last that long.”

“We supposed so too, that’s the reason why you called us in.” Jeongyeon said.

“Yeah, I just want to check on you two.” JYP replied, then his eye turned next at you. “Especially you, YN. I’ve heard that you’ve been having some another episodes of head ache again these days.”

“Y-yes, I am sir.”

“And what is it, did it got more frequent than before?”

“I’ve noticed sir.”

“Did you have some history of you know… head injury or something that triggers your pain? Because if it’s not I still believe there’s something wrong right now on your head.” JYP seriously mentioned. He caught their perturbed reactions. “Now I don’t want to scare you both, but… things happen for a reason innit?”

“I agree.”

“Have you seen a doctor already?”

“We’re just planning so far, sir.”

“Good, you don’t need to. I’ve partnered with some doctors that are part of our medical team regarding on our idols and staffs health, I’ll assign one to check on you YN and the payment is all mine.”

“I-it’s free?” YN surprisingly asked.

“Yeah. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Jeongyeon looks at him and smiles. “Well you’re in oppa’s company. In here, we treat everybody here well, and we care for each other like a one big family. That’s JYP Nation for you.”

“Oh you’re fluttering me too much Jeongyeon.” JYP sheepishly laughed. “But you heard her right, that’s what we do here.” 

“T-thank you, sir. I appreciate the help so much.” You bowed in respect for your boss.

JYP shook his head and smiled. “No problem. But, I think you know what this means in return don’t you, YN?”

You didn’t respond and instead waited to continue his words. JYP took that as a cue.

“Since you’re going for a medical treatment, whatever the result will be based whether I will put you in hiatus or not. If it does, it means that you will stop managing Jeongyeon for a while and she will be handed for a while to one of your other managers. Is that clear?”

Jeongyeon massaged your shoulder and peeks at you with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, oppa. You’re much more important for me. Take a rest for a while, okay?”

“Are you sure, Jeong?”

Jeongyeon hummed. “I wouldn’t be going to focus on working properly if I know something’s bad is happening to you. This kind of calms me a bit because you’re now getting a help, and all you have to do is to take it for now because you need it. Just please, you’ll be alright after okay?”

“I’ll do my best… for you.” 

You kissed Jeongyeon on the lips and smiled at her. JYP was happy to witness the two’s blooming tough love for each other in front of his own eyes, making him more of a proud father-figure to Jeongyeon. He slowly cleared his throat to gain their attention without any means of disrespect.

“Sorry to interrupt you both, but we made ourselves clear now right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay. Tomorrow expect that you’ll be having a check up with one of our professional doctors in the company. I’ll just call Nayeon to pass the signal to you.”

“Noted sir.”

“And Jeongyeon…”

“Yes, oppa?” She responded.

“I’ll allow you to supervise for YN for a week since your promotions just ended for Between 1&2, am I right?“

“It did, yes.”

“Good. Then you’re okay to do that.” Jeongyeon was satisfied. “Alright, both of you are dismissed. Enjoy the day.”

The two stood from their seats and bowed in gratitude for the kind leader of this industry. They exited the room and made their way back to the lobby as you shared your compliments to JYP for being a kind boss and again received the overflowing care and support of your loving girlfriend.

All set to go and courageously prepared, you brought Jeongyeon again with you and drove through the hospital where the doctor is stationed. After parking your car outside, Jeongyeon took the initiative to ask at the assistance booth for the name of the doctor.

Fortunately, the nurse gave the directions to both of you, and she was given thanks.

Following the paths, both landed themselves correctly at the exact destination. A door that says “The doctor is in” and the name of the doctor are plastered to be seen by his attendees. Jeongyeon knocked twice and opened it, and there they were seen by the doctor, who was just arranging his medicines on the kit.

Following the paths, both landed yourselves correctly at the exact destination. A door that says “The doctor is in” and the name of the doctor are plastered to be seen by his attendees. Jeongyeon knocked twice and opened it, and there they were seen by the doctor who is just arranging his medicines on the kit.

“How may I help you two? Was there an appointment that you two made with me?” The doctor asked politely.

“Uhm hello and yes, doc. Mr. Park Jinyoung was asked for us to meet you. He said that you are free to be visited.” Jeongyeon did the greetings.

“Oh… Jinyoung did. You must be his idol and your boyfriend I presume.”

“Yes, doc.”

“Who is the patient here?”

“Me, sir.” You raised your hand.”

“Okay, give me a second. Please, make yourselves comfortable on the seats there.” The doctor offered. You and Jeongyeon took it and just watched the doctor prepare some papers, equipments he will use for consultation. He also viewed at his phone to evaluate something.

“Ahh, so you are YN LN and Yoo Jeongyeon?”

“Yes we are, doc.”

“Okay, let’s start.” The doctor sat on his swivel chair. “Jinyoung notified me that you Mr. LN has been dealing with some head aches.”

“Yes, doc.”

“Rate the pain for me.”

“Absolutely 10 doc.”

“10? As in severe?”

“Yes.”

“Describe.”

“It’s like, my jaws are numbing and I couldn’t move my face. My brain feels like it’s being tugged and then squeezed roughly.” 

“And it how much does it occur?”

“Before it was seldom but from the past few days, it has been attacking often doc. Like, it doesn’t follow any time anymore to irritate.”

“I could confirm that, doc.” Jeongyeon continued. “He’s also my manager and we are together most of the time. I’ve been a witness from how he deals with his pain and when does it happen. It’s… indeed unpredictable.”

“And I suppose you couldn’t do anything about it to help it stop?”

“Y-yes, doc.” Jeongyeon nervously said. “Hearing him groan and cry in pain while his face twitches and holding his head tightly, I couldn’t stand it. As much as I want to try remove it I don’t even know what to do too. I even tried making him drink painkiller but it was only for a moment.”

“That’s okay, Ms. Yoo. Painkillers are designed to ease the pain but to use it only if its necessary, and you did nothing wrong.” The doctor calms down the worrying woman. “Okay, now back to you Mr. LN. Did you have any history regarding about hurting your head before? Injuries, perhaps?”

“N-none, sir.”

“What about stress? Are your daily routine balanced? Do you rest at a given time?”

“Well, I mean I’m a manager of an idol. If she’s awake and active, I must be too so yeah it’s stressful but… it doesn’t affect my head that much. My body is rather exhausted but I don’t let it get in my head because I have to be focused on managing my idol.” 

“Point taken.” The doctor nodded. “Okay, for now I’ll assume that you have a severe case of migraine going on, and we don’t underestimate its temporary nature because it still could get worse, and we’re talking about the head here. A critical part of our body. That’s where our brain is being kept, one of the reasons why our body acts the way it does. That’s why I would like to line you up for continous check-up for us to further determine the problem on your head. Maybe there’s actually something worse than we imagine.”

“Do what you must do, doctor. As long as it would help me relieved from this head ache.”

“Good to know you’re willing for it.” The doctor nodded. “I won’t do the scanning on your head today but let’s arrange the schedule on Tuesday. Sounds good?”

“Yes doc.”

“Alright, well please sign these papers up to confirm that you two have made your meeting with me today and for further examination that we will conduct regarding on your illness.”

The doctor handed out the sheets of paper, and you filled up all the information and signed it along with Jeongyeon. You passed it back to the doctor and thanked him again for his service. 

A few days later, you returned just like the doctor tasked you, and you were placed in a CT scan that uses X-rays to picture if there’s any anomaly present in your skull, brain, and even sinuses that were not able to be located, which can assist in helping to know the right treatment could be given to you.

After an hour of evaluating the result of the CT scan, the doctor reentered the office holding the scanned image of your head, and you noticed that he faced you and Jeongyeon with a slight uneasiness in his face.

“Doc, what’s the result?”

He looked again at the picture and positioned into thinking. “This is strange…”

“Why, what is it?”

“You said that you have a pain that highly severe and we came up with a possibility that its migraine… yet your brain is telling in the image here that you don’t have any signs of functional changes in the structure.”

“Then what does that mean doc?” Jeongyeon curiously asked.

“It means that you’re perfectly normal. Your head status is fine. As if, you’re not experiencing this severe head ache you’ve been having.”

The doctor leaned closer to present the image clearer to you two. “Look at these, we have certain parts in the brain that is easily affected when a person has a severe case of migraine, the reason is because it disrupts the function of the blood veseels around our brain.

Some of the these parts include the posterior pons, where our trigominovascular system gets hypersensitive because our pons has an abnormality and could cause weakened connections through some sort of our brain which contributes to the pain we feel in having a migraine. Yours doesn’t have any sign of that.

Most of our blood vessels in our brain can be found too in some perivascular spaces present around here, for people with migraine it enlarges but yours has a normal gap.

Last I could give to you would be our hypothalamus here, it goes overactive due to the effects of the pain attacks our migraine releases and since this part is heavily responsible from how we sleep our any status quo that we have, it showcases a condition of that. Yours is functioning well.

In conclusion, I’m currently puzzled right now on how you are getting this kind of headache when your brain is… healthy.”

You and Jeongyeon remained silent for a moment to sink in every aspect of information that was shared by the doctor to further claim that there’s no problem in your head despite hurting like a bitch. 

Jeongyeon saw your perplexed state and she doesn’t know how to feel, but she was convinced that you were indeed having it when it happened right in front of her. “D-doc, are you trying to tell us that m-my boyfriend might be… lying?”

“I… haven’t said anything about him lying but… the CT scans don’t lie.” The doctor shrugged and shook his head.

“M-maybe we could check it again, maybe it wasn’t visible-”

“Miss Yoo, too much exposure to x-ray can cause more problems to your boyfriend here. We may not have that much limit on how a patient can undergo CT scans, but it’s not right to take both exams in a very short period of time. We only do x-rays mostly in just one take.”

“O-or maybe you have mistaken on the result, i-it’s not actually his…” Jeongyeon paused when she felt his arm being held by you. All of you know that it was ridiculous because the name is indicated that it belongs to you plus the result must not get mixed up since it was only you who is assigned on the exam.

“Stop, Jeongyeon.” You muttered to her. Jeongyeon gulped and slowly nodded at you as she holds your hand.

“S-sorry… sorry if I have doubted you doc.”

“It’s fine. It’s a normal reaction for patients here who gets nervous or scared.” The doctor said. “But I promise, I’ve been a longtime partner with Mr. Park and I never once failed my tests. I’ve also treated many employees of his through my career. Yours is not different.”

“Then what’s the next step, doc? What now, if it wasn’t migraine then what- ah…”

“YN?”

Jeongyeon and the doctor saw you immediately lower your head and clench your face. Your grip went tighter around Jeongyeon’s grasp in sync with how your head throbs. “Shit… agh…”

“Mr. LN can you tell us how you’re feeling?”

“AAAAGGGHHHH!!!” You let go of Jeongyeon to hold both of your head furiously.

“Doc, he’s having another episode again!” Jeongyeon yelled at him.

“Wait here, I’m calling a nurse to assist him.” The doctor sprung up and went out of the room to call for some assistance. You were now curled like a ball on the floor and keep screaming in pain. Jeongyeon’s heart broke as she saw you cry for the first time, realizing that the pain must hurt way worse now than previously.

Jeongyeon didn’t know what to do, as she just tried to calm you down by placing you in her embrace while she started to get teary-eyed at your poor state. The nurses arrived on time, and the doctor gave the command to put you in one of the vacant rooms.

Minutes later, you woke up to find Jeongyeon talking to somebody on the phone while walking back and forth around the room. As she dropped the phone. She saw you awake and quickly went by your side. “YN, are you okay? ”

“I feel dizzy.” You said. It was the truth, it looks like the ceiling is spinning and Jeongyeon’s face is distorted in your vision, but her voice is enough to calm you and confirm that she’s still here, staying by your side.

“What happened?”

“You had another migraine attack, but it looks bad. You were crying while you wince in pain, so the doctor decided to bring you here. You’re currently confined now, YN.” Jeongyeon shared. “He said he will do more tests on you to figure out what’s really causing your head to hurt because… it wasn’t looking any good.”

“I-I’m sorry if you have to see me like that again…” You said weakly. You heard the crack in her voice and felt something drop on your hand before she gives it some squeezes. 

“Don’t cry, please.”

“How could I not? I’m scared… I’m scared for you, YN.” Jeongyeon said as she lifts your hand and cuddled it on her face. “I don’t know what’s exactly happening to you, and my mind is just running thoughts in my head that doesn’t help me at all in our situation, but I still couldn’t avoid to think about it. What if these gets worse and then… oh God, y-you’re suddenly gone?”

“Don’t think like that, Jeong.” You still couldn’t see her properly, so you began to caress her face and imagine her beauty that was never a time you have enough of seeing on her. “We both know we don’t want to happen, but… if the time won’t let us have it… a part of me believes that our fate still leads for us to be together again. 

I’ll find you, and I know you’ll meet me too. Promise that.”

“With all my heart, YN.” Jeongyeon showed a bitter sweet smile and kissed your hand. She leans closer and kissed you also on the lips. “Don’t force yourself, you can rest for now. I’ve called the girls and our managers and some of them are coming to see you.”

“Okay.” Jeongyeon patted your chest and you took one last glimpse of her blurry figure before you closed your eyes and went to sleep in recovery.

Few hours later, after your body has had enough energy to send you back awake, your head still throbs but only for a little. Your vision has gone clearer but you waited for it to become stable as you blinked rapidly to endure the bright light coming from the ceiling.

As you did, you roamed your sight around the room with your newly woke up expression.

Then you observed, you were not alone in the room as someone is sitting on the spare chair in front of you.

And Jeongyeon is nowhere to be found anymore.

#twice #twice au #kpop au #kpop fanfic #jeongyeon #twice fanfic #jeongyeon x male reader #yoo jeongyeon #twice jeongyeon #twice x reader #twice x male reader #twice oneshots #kpop oneshots

[genderfluid-insomniac]

“Wait for me” dead!Macaque x living!reader (1.5k words)

A/N: I know I’m mixing pantheons but I’ve been back on a musical hype and this time around it’s been Hadestown. I love the musical too much and it came to mind when listening to “Wait for Me (reprise)” that the Orpheus and Eurydice characters would work for Macaque and another person. Although terribly angsty I must fulfill my heart's desires.

The reader is currently walking up to the living world after convincing the god of the underworld to go on a trial to get their lover the Six-Eared Macaque back home with them. The trick is that if they look back at Macaque before they reach the surface he has to go back to the underworld.

otherwise known as the Orpheus and Eurydice myth from the author Virgil and/or Ovid

This story is told from the reader’s perspective who knew, met, and fell in love with Macaque before his confrontation with Wukong. So it might seem that they’re being too hard on Wukong for killing his sworn brother when they yell at him but they don’t know everything that happened between them. ***Only the rumors of Sun Wukong from local towns and what Macaque told them.*** So I just wanted to make that clear.

Although you knew you had begun the trial and Macaque must have been behind you, you couldn’t hear him and yet still you walked. Step after step of hoping you weren’t tricked by them. All you wanted to be back in his arms, dancing in the moonlight and counting the stars until dawn arrived. You remembered it as clear as day. You were just on a walk with him, strolling through the woods and laughing about a forest spirit you had run into who mistook you as being kidnapped only to apologize when it was clear you both were in love.

It was calm and quiet as most days were but Macaque heard something, someone, someone who he once called his brother. They hadn’t seen each other in centuries and the last they saw of one another wasn’t pleasant. At least that’s all that Macaque had told you and insisted that it was too painful to talk about which you respected. You both trusted each other more than anything and you hoped it’d get you through everything.

You didn’t know what caused that fight or whether it was fate or a coincidence that they saw one another that day after almost a thousand years. Flashes and shouts could be heard as they both clashed against one another. For a demon, the fight would be easier to see but you could only catch bits and pieces of the battle, seeing both celestial primates create big craters in nearby mountains and strong gales whipping across the land surrounding them.

Truthfully you were terrified for your life a couple of times as trunks of big trees were flung your way and when gales of wind threatened to carry you off the ground. Through all of it, your eyes desperately searched for Macaque in hopes of seeing anything pointing to his survival. That moment almost froze in time as someone whom you now recognized as Sun Wukong “Great Sage Equal to Heaven” stood over your lover. Before you knew it you raced to where they both were and ignored the scrapes and cuts you got from recklessly running through a battleground.

Sure you heard the rumors of the Monkey King traveling west from folks in nearby towns or villages but the demon you saw before was nothing like you had heard and you saw him raise his staff high. You wanted to cry out, scream, do anything to get him to stop to your voice failed to obey you. He fiercely growled before yelling and striking Macaque who lay at the bottom of a crater covered in severe injuries with his staff. Most notably three large gashes over his right eye, the blood hadn’t clotted yet and you doubted it would even if he came out alive.

You let out a sob as you thought about those last couple of words. “if he came out alive”. Catching his gaze for a second those few seconds held a thousand words. Despite the shadow of death inches away from ending his life, he still smiled with so much love in his eyes and hoped that you could continue to live your life with the promise of finding joy in the smallest things. He wished that you could forgive him for leaving you so soon when he’d assured you so much love and happiness in your future.

Both of you wanted time to stop, for anything to stop the inevitable, a miracle to happen. You couldn’t though. The last thing you would ever see of him would be through your warped teary vision, his midnight black fur caked with thick blood and deep cuts decorated his strong-built body. His beloved scarf that he treasured so much lay on the ground torn severely and a mix of blood and dirt obscured parts of his beautiful vibrant six ears; now partially covered in small cuts on the edges of each colorful lotus petal-shaped ear. Although one of his eyes had been badly damaged surely beyond repair you could see his gold shining eye meeting yours and sharing one last glance before the red powerful staff came down on Macaque.

Sun Wukong had light tears falling down his cheeks and slowly approached the now-still demon’s body with shaking hands, letting his staff fall from his grip and clattering to the ground. There was so much conflict in his expression and hesitation as to whether he should even touch his fallen brethren but you rushed in. Dirt, blood, and bruises clung to you as you tumbled into the crater and collapsed on your lover, sobbing harshly at the reality now hitting you and gripping the soft torn yellow and black fabric of his layered hanfu. You cried out in pain not caring about the outside world because if something happened to you then at least you’d be reunited with one another.

A firm hand gripped your shoulder and tried to pry you off to no success, his insistence on getting you to safety and pressing the message that no mortals should be here fell on deaf ears. You didn’t care about the things you said getting up weakly and shoving the Monkey King’s chest with shaky hands. “I don’t care! You killed him! You bastard! He told me you were once close.” you shouted and raised a hand, slapping the left side of his face hard and seeing him hiss through his teeth when you hit a deep cut on his cheekbone.

The world was silent. Not a leaf fell or animal chittered. Only when you turned around to go back to mourning the death of someone you loved so much and knew they loved you just as much did you hear the footsteps of others. Probably the Great Sage’s companions who came to see who the victor was. You could feel 5 pairs of eyes on you and guessed the dozens of questions they had of why a random mortal was crying over a powerful demon’s corpse. One of the travelers came towards you as you cradled Macaque in your arms, an unkempt pig demon walking towards you and gleefully shouting, “Don’t cry beautiful mortal. You’re saved from the horrible demon that kidnapped you, and his power is gone! Let us help-” he was cut off by Sun Wukong tugging him back before he could touch you.

You did your best to hold in the sobs and despair you had, forcing yourself to look up and focus on the demon responsible for all of your pain. “Go. Go and live knowing you not only killed someone close to you but broke the heart of his lover. I’m sure he’s resting peacefully now.” you spat. After a few tries you managed to pick Macaque up with his head resting on your chest and carefully walked back near to where you both lived. You didn’t bother to see Sun Wukong’s expression when to told him who you were to Macaque and how it cracked into shock and anguish.

That had been almost 2 months ago until you’d finally found a local mountain god that accepted your offering in exchange for information about how to get to the underworld and after you made your trek through hell you bargained with King Yan for your lover’s soul. Another rock bounced off your shoe and hit the gravel path. You couldn’t hear his footsteps or voice or breath and you questioned if he was even behind you at all. Memories of the good times you both shared pooled in your mind and allowed a soft smile to sneak up on your face. How you had both first met because of him mistaking you for an easy victim. Safe to say he failed to do anything because you fought back decently.

Your meetings were always by surprise at first but then Macaque began to show up regularly and seemed more curious about what you did and who you were. It was obvious he could do something else rather than “wasting” time on someone he failed to kill but you caught his interest. The same game was played fairly often until a week passed when he disappeared and you thought that was it. You were happily surprised when you went to your regular sight to gather herbs and saw sizable bundles of each herb you usually picked tied up all in a basket. Macaque ended up rising from the shadow of a nearby Rainbow Gum tree and apologizing for disappearing but offering to repay you. That night he confessed underneath the stars looking at the moon while he told you stories he heard during his travels.

A bright light blinded you in the dark tunnel that was now slowly opening into the base of the mountain you entered hours ago and you fought through the tight v-shaped opening until you reached the edge where obsidian-shaded gravel met the healthy forest floor. You couldn’t tell if it was you or Macaque who let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re here.”

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