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#and especially lately has been sad posting a lot
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Added a 'not ml' tag for posts about shows other than ml!
#Okay ramble in tags I need to get this off my chest#So uh. obviously due to the whole leaks and gloob situation of late#I haven't really been into ml as much as I was before (this would most likely change with episode 11 of course#Naturally I've been getting into a lot of other shows (knt horimiya yoi for example) and I think I am#Posting about them more frequently? For the past few weeks#But it's just that. Okay first of I've never been multifandom so this is so...new#It kind of makes me sad that I feel I am like. There is this change from my hyperfixations#Especially since ml was my first and biggest hyperfixation and the reason I made this blog and changed me SO much into who I am now#It feels kind of intimidating having to go through this change?#It also makes me so sad that I stopped giffing but I just. Can't bring myself to. Half of it is due to me trying to digital art and part of#It is just that every single time I try to gif in my phone it just crashes all the time and I just don't have the time for it...yet#So it just feels so strange and kind of uncomfortable even though I love all these other shows too (it actually would've been evident djsh)#But it also makes me feel confused because it just isn't the Same As Before#And I really miss the excitement season 4 gave me (and season 5 upto passion) and I just.#I really really miss ml this is such a confusing feeling and#It probably also has to do with the fact that most of these new hyprfixations are like. shows that are over ig? most of them have very#small Tumblr fandoms so they didn't really intimidate me#(sidenote but yoi is different because it is like. A huge popular show yet it was like 6 years ago with an active fanbase even now. And I t#Think the whole thing prompted these strange feelings to me was yoi because I love the show but it just feels kind of lonely without anyone#To ramble about the show too#Okay I will spill the truth this whole tag rambles is because I just feels weird rn and I am trying to make sense of it by typing it out#And I think the solution (for now) would be: please send asks about my other hyperfixations I want to talk about them more and I need to be#Enabled for that (sorry👍)#And multifandom people please tell me how you manage to do it. Was it the same when you turned multifandom too or is this a me thing😭#n rambles#Okay typing this out dis make me feel better oof#Edit: I have more to say apparently#I want to change my blog theme to something other than ml but I just. Can't bring myself to if that makes sense#I CAN make sideblogs actually but it just WON'T be the same
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reenaria · 9 months
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currently having a queer identity crisis on this accursed holiday
#but actually. i’ve realized that like. 95% or more of my attraction to men has been comphet#i thought it wasn’t because i’ve been more or less identifying as bi since i was 11#so like. i figured if i didn’t like men at all i would’ve figured it out sooner?#it wasn’t until a couple years ago that i resolved to stop dating straight & masculine guys because i feel like i’m performing for them#and my current partner of 2.5 years is amab and socially perceived as a man but he’s bi and sees himself as ‘void of gender’#which is also the way i see him but not the way most people see him#he does get mistaken for a woman a fair ammount though. which brings us both a lot of joy lol#but anyway. my crisis is that i’ve been feeling more and more detached from the bi label because i feel like it implies attraction to men#and i’ve known for a little while now that i’m almost exclusively attracted to femininity and androgyny#and primarily attracted to women in general#like if i weren’t with my partner i would 100% be out there dating women and maybe? identifying as a lesbian#but i feel like i have no claim to that label especially with my current partner who is not a woman and is much more androgynous than fem#idk. do i keep calling myself bi? it feels like i’ve slipped away from it#i’ve been using queer a lot more lately because umbrella terms are the only thing that seem to make sense to me anymore#i know labels can be super complicated and unhelpful in some cases but i also want to know where my place is in the community ya know?#i feel so confused without a solid label and it’s causing me a lot more stress than it should#(also my partner is such a blessing and said he’d be supportive if i ever felt i needed to leave him to be with women)#(like he said ‘i’d be sad for a while but i’d still be your best friend) and i was just 🥺#this may be even longer than my last tag novel lmao i just hate the idea of putting this stuff in the body of the post#anyway if any pals/mutuals read all that and have any insight or advice i’d be curious to hear#reena.txt
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soldier-poet-king · 2 years
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Everytime I think the saga of highschool friend drama weddings is over ...
How can it not already be over
Ex highschool bff got married again??? Or rather, I think they had a small church wedding right at the beginning of COVID for legal and religious reasons, but had ig a renewal ceremony today and the actual wedding reception with a billion guests and all the dresses etc etc etc
Ofc I did not know about it until I opened instagram and saw it plastered everywhere
And ofc all my horrible terrible feelings that I ignore 99% of the time resurfaced and I'm drowning, and I can't even just wine and game to decompress BC I have COVID and booze is off limits and it's just ....
I'm really going to just have to live with having fucked up my whole life for the rest of my life? But always being unsure if it was really my fault? No real closure, just guilt and regret.
Fight down the pang of jealousy that my friend married a man I introduced her to and is now tight knit friends with the friend group I brought her into, it's all the same, I'm just no longer there
Do they miss me? Do they think of me? On days like today, big occasions we'd dream and giggle about as teens, is there even a passing memory of me? Or was I not worth even that much?
I am not so old that this is distant past, no matter how I lie to myself, say I am okay most days, convince myself that what ifs are useless and i needed to leave the city to survive, no matter that I ended up stuck back here anyway
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azrielsdove · 3 months
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Ive really been loving all that you post. I've had this idea rattling in my head. It's a Azriel x best friend Reader. Where their friendship has mostly been platonic. Azriel and Elain were an item before she eventually left him for lucien, causing Azriel to spiral outta control. Azriels getting blackout drunk like every night, crying his eyes out saying how much he loved Elain, getting into fights hes just a mess and although readers there helping him shes fucking hurt that her friends suffering. I picture reader coming to help Azriel again one night dressed really nice and drop dead gorgeous, shes getting him into bed or whatever and hes just staring at her, like really looking at her. The bond snaps for him that instant and hes taking her in and asks her why are u wearing a gown? And she tells him she was on a date with Eris but ended it early to come help him. Breaks his fucking heart that shes dating someone (Especially Eris) but he then realizes shes always been there by his side. I imagine her not knowing about the bond or ignoring it cuz she just can't be Azriels 2nd choice ( but also cant hurt him) when shes been there the whole time and she feels she deserves someone who actually loves her not just cuz the mother said they should be together. Angst with maybe open ending? Or sad ending idk. Lol. Happy ending? I cant chooose. Lol.
Dearest Friend: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Alcohol, Brief Mentions of Violence
***
You sighed deeply, knowing it was going to be another long night with your dearest friend. You hated that Azriel was hurting, but you were growing tired of the constant drinking and fighting. You dragged the large male out of the alley you found him in, calling out to Rhys to send someone to check on whoever he had been pummeling to a pulp when you found him.
“M’fine,” Azriel grumbled, pushing himself off of you to stumble down the road.
“I know you are. I am just helping,” you explained, used to the difficult task of getting him home. You brought him to the townhouse, as he was in no state to fly the two of you up to the House if Wind. He got angry when he was here, remembering the early stages of his feelings for Elain.
“I want to go home,” he protested, stopping in the doorway. You grabbed his hands and pulled him gently inside, shutting the door behind him.
“We can go home tomorrow, Az. Tonight we are going to stay here, closer to the ground.” He mumbled under his breath something about hating you and this place, but you just rolled your eyes and continued pulling him up to the room he typically stayed in.
You felt an air of sadness wash over you, looking to see Azriel staring at a door near the end of the hall. You knew that was Elain’s old room, before she moved to the River House with Rhys and Feyre. You reached up and placed a hand on his face, prompting him to look at you. “She’s not here,” you soothed, heart breaking at the anguish in his eyes. He nodded, head leaning into the touch of your hand. “Come on.”
You brought him into his room, sliding off his dirty clothes. He didn’t fight you as you slid warm, clean sleepwear onto him, the anger exhausted for the night. You pulled the blankets over him and tucked him in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “Get some sleep, Az.”
His hand on your arm stopped you, the pleading look in his eyes already telling you what he wanted. “Stay,” he whispered, pulling you down next to him. You took in a deep breath before sliding under the blankets with him, allowing him to hold you close. You had been sleeping like this a lot lately, your back pressed tight to his chest while he held you like you were his lifeline.
You wish he knew how true that was.
You had learned the shove the pull of the mating bond down long ago, realizing that Azriel would likely never feel it. The two of you had been friends for a few hundred years, and he had never made any inclination that he knew in all that time.
He pushed closer to you, burying his face in your hair. “Why wasn’t I enough for her?” Your heart broke just a little more, understanding the feeling all too well. You ran your fingers over his hands, shushing him.
“Enough of that, Az. She has a mate, that wasn’t a bond you could fight with. It has nothing to do with you.” You felt like you had said the same things over and over, constantly reassuring your friend that he did nothing wrong. Elain had tried to fight the bond with Lucien, making her own choice to go after Azriel. Unfortunately, the Mother creates bonds for a reason and even Azriel wasn’t enough to keep her from her mate.
Your countless failed relationships proved that as well.
“I wish she had been my mate,” he mumbled, sleep beginning to take over. You ignored the pain in your chest at his words, knowing he had no idea his mate was here in his arms. His mate he had no interest in.
“Go to sleep, Az.”
***
You smiled at the male across from you, raising your glass to your lips. With the now-accepted mating bond between Lucien and Elain, along with a growing alliance with the Autumn Court, Eris had taken to visiting Velaris often. You had arrived at the River House to ask about the male Azriel had attacked a few nights prior, not knowing he was there. You couldn’t deny the slight uptick of your heart whenever you saw him.
He had asked you to accompany him out to dinner that night, an invitation you gladly accepted. For the first time the attention of another male overrode the underlying pull of the mating bond. You had rushed off to get ready, forgetting the reason you even went over there.
Perhaps it was foolish, agreeing to a date with the Autumn Prince. You were tired of being alone, tired of waiting for the bond that will never snap for your mate. Eris was handsome, charming, and kept your attention full on him. You’d never met anyone quite like that.
“You look,” he spoke, surveying you over his whiskey glass, “divine.” You couldn’t hide the slight blush at his words, heat coursing through you. No other male had ever been able to affect you with such few words.
“I’m sure no different than the ladies you court in Autumn,” you responded, a teasing lilt to your voice. Eris chuckled, sipping his drink.
“Truth be told, I cant say i’ve ever had the interest in courting any of them.” You swore your heart stopped, mind going temporarily blank. “No one has ever caught my attention quite like you did.” He was looking at your curiously, as if trying to find some invisible string that tied you to him.
“I could say the same about you,” you got out, taking a mildly too large drink. Eris smiled back,
opening his mouth to say more when Cassian burst into the restaurant. He caught sight of you immediately, striding over to the table.
“He’s bad. He won’t accept any of us, he’s requesting you.” He looked apologetic, awkwardly glancing between you and Eris. You sighed, unable to hide the slow anger rising in you.
“Fine. Where is he?” You asked, standing from the table. You looked over to Eris, halfway ready to tell Azriel to screw himself so you could stay here. “Im so sorry. Our friend is…not well,” you explained, knowing he already knew the situation.
“Of course,” he said, waving you to go. “I just expect you to take me on an extravagant make-up date when he’s better.” The wink he gave you had color racing up your neck, a small smile on your lips.
***
Cass brought you to the townhouse, a sure sign that Azriel was wasted again. “I didn’t want to interrupt your date,” he began, “but he’s losing it in there. Crying and screaming about Elain, destroying everything he can get his hands on. Rhys can’t even get into his mind to calm him down.” You knew how dire this situation must be if Rhys was willing to infiltrate his friends mind without consent. You prepared yourself as the door opened, peering in to the damage he had caused.
It was bad. Very, very bad.
“Az?” You called out, stepping into the ruined home. “Are you in here?” You heard a low sob from the living room, turning to Cassian behind you. “You should stay out here, for now. I’ll yell if I need you.” He agreed, willing to do anything you thought may help his brother.
You made your way into the living room, finishing Azriel tucked into the farthest corner. His shadows were going wild, racing around the room in a chaotic show. You carefully walked over to him, being sure to not trip on any of the debris. You knelt down in front of him, running your hands up and down his arms.
“Hey, Az. I’m here now. What do you need?” Your words were quiet, soothing. He slowly lifted his head off his knees, eyes bloodshot. You clicked your tongue at the deep circles under them, the sunken skin of his cheeks. He was destroying himself.
“Let me help you up to bed, okay? I’ll bring you water, do you want me to send Cassian to pick up some food?” He shook his head as you pulled him up, looking almost small. You gently lead him upstairs, an area he had thankfully stayed out of during his rampage. You once again changed his clothes and tucked him into bed, heading downstairs to get him a glass of water.
You opened the front door to see Cassian sitting on the steps, waiting for you. “He’s in bed,” you said as he stood, “you are good to go. I’ll stay with him.” Cassian nodded, shifting on his feet.
“I’m sorry again. We may have had disagreements in the past, but Eris is proving to be a decent guy. I think he’d be good for you.” Your heart fluttered at his words, that small smile coming back onto your face.
“Yes, well, I suppose we will see.” He bid you goodnight and you closed the door, locking it behind you. You retrieved the glass for Az, bringing it up to him.
“Drink,” you commanded, pushing the water in his hands. He did so greedily, needing the cool liquid after his actions that night. You took the empty
glass from him, setting it on the nightstand. “Anything else?” You asked, voice missing the normal warmth it had when he was in this state.
Azriel looked at you closely, eyes slowly taking in your appearance. “You look…nice.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Yes, thanks for noticing. Are you good?” You were growing impatient.
“Why are you wearing that?” His question held a small tone of accusation, clearly unhappy that you were out while he was struggling.
“Honestly Azriel, do you take me as your mother? I was on a date, a very lovely night until you had to ruin it.” You couldn’t help the anger pushing out of you, years of being there for him piling up inside you.
“A date? With who?” He sneered, focused on the elegant but tight dress you had on.
“If you must know, I was with Eris. Now, do you need anything else?” You stared him down, focusing every emotion into that gaze. He began to shake his head, body suddenly stilling.
“Azriel?” Your anger began to be replaced by concern, the unblinking look on his face scaring you.
“You’re my mate.”
Oh. That. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you at the injustice of it all. Centuries you longed after him, dreaming of this very moment. The very night your heart begins to long for another, the bond snaps.
Snaps while he’s drunk due to thoughts of another lover.
He states you down, unsure as to your laughter. “Azriel,” you sighed, “I know. I’ve known.”
He stood off the bed, the sudden realization sobering him. “This is great! You are my mate! This whole time, you’ve been right in front of me.” He raised a hand to your face, brushing your hair back lovingly. “My dearest friend, my mate.”
It was too much. You pushed back from him, shaking your head. “No, Azriel.”
“No?”
“I won’t be your second choice. Not when I have finally found someone I could be happy with, without the thought of you ruining it.” Your eyes filled with tears when you looked up at him. “You don’t want me, Az. You want her. You said it yourself, you wished she was your mate.”
His eyebrows furrowed, shadows becoming agitated again. “No that’s not what I meant, I-“
You cut him off. “Stop, Azriel. In the hundreds of years we’ve been friends, you’ve never once treated me as more than. You don’t want me, not like that. You never have.” Your heart squeezed tight at the devestaed look on his face.
“You can’t reject me,” he said, voice quiet.
You ran your hands over your face, a frustrated groan falling from you. “I’m not. I just don’t think this is truly what you want.” You looked up at him, standing tall. “I need you to want me for me, not because the bond has told you to.”
His shadows were swirling around, staying far away from you. The anger and hurt in his face broke you, but you stood strong. You would not be with a male you loved so deeply if he could not love you the same.
“Goodnight, Az,” you said, leaving his room and the destroyed townhouse before you broke any further.
***
I hope you like this!! I left the ending open, I feel like I always do HEAs so I wanted to try not not resolve the issue yet 🫣. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for liking my writing enough to request something ❤️
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bettyfrommars · 3 months
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
Eddie x fem!Reader
MASTERLIST PLAYLIST
It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.
my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.
A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
word count: 6.3k
The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat.  From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain.  The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache. 
You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of  your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play.  You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs.  You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.
You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again.  Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.  
Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open.  It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.
You pulled your headphones down around your neck.  “Sorry?”
“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life.  “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”
You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people.  You were the walking wounded.
“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.  
It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright.  Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate. 
You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town.  Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.
“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees.  A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing.  “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”
You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled.  You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck.  He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.  
You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.
Besides reading.  And taking long walks with music to clear your head.  Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.
From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous.  Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants.  A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water.  Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet. 
Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.
There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside.  The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books.  Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint.  He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.  
After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right.  You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.  
The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.  
Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes.  It sat there close to the curb, idling.  You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile.  Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket.  Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.  
Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it.  They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.
“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk.  A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.  
The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand.  “Hey Joyce, I was just—”
Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm.  She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family.  While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.
“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”
“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”
Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”
Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.   
Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell.  The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month. 
“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can.  They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational.  She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.  
“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.  
They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits.  There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.  
Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.
The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.  
You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot.  Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.  
The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.
“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself.  “You okay?”
Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”
She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit.  “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”
“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.  
When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.
“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”
“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”
Robin winked.  “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.  
Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.
“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”
“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”
By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.  
“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room.  “I’m going to look around the main house.”
Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen.  “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”
You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.
With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts.  You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest.  Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling.  Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.
Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building.  It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel. 
You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.
They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other,  so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.  
One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.  
“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face.  “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”
You realized that it was your dad he was talking about. 
Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree.  Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot.  Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.
“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said.  “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”
But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.
The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.
Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl.  You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.  
Was that his girlfriend?
He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him.  “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually.  You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one.  “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve.  They’re the other musicians I told you about.”
Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear.  He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.  
“Hey, there the fuck you are.  I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”
Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building.  You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.
Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way.  The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed.  While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.
“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”
“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit.  “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”
Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself.  His name was Eddie.  
Jason put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour.  There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”
You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.
So that you could see Eddie’s face. 
Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe.  “I gotta run.  See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets.  He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way.  Jason shot him an evil look.
“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.
“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.
The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.  
When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along. 
Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.  
“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face. 
Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks.  Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.
When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again.  With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog. 
You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
—----
Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation.  There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party.  She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier.  The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.  
Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.  
“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.  
Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.  
“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.  
Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true.  But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.  
“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink.  “This place will all be mine one day.”
Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.  
“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.  
If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table. 
Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours.  “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”
Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.
“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it. 
In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.  
An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.
—-------
Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself.  He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.   
You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.  
You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest.  He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.  
You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him.  You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.  
You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare. 
On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property. 
Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.
And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.
"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music.  It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.  
"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it.  His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.
Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests.  Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing.  The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there. 
At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another.  While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.
Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.
Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.
The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.
“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”
You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.  
“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”
The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier.  He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.
“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.
The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage. 
I get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot.  You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.  
He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.
They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.  
He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.  
All my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.
Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention.  “Did you hear anything I just said?”
You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie.  Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.
"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."
In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.
"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."
Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.
“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”
—--
It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.
“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”
The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most. 
In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter.  You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.
It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished.  Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.  
As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point
And that made you want to venture in even more.
You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going.  The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.  
You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence. 
Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.  
(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)
It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead.  Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.  
“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”
Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.  
She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.
“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.
“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.
She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground.  You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.
“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.
“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed.  “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”
Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted.  “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees.  “What is that place?”
“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”
Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped.  But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”
Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”
You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.
She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms. 
“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”
----
Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.
Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.
as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️
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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082
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callsigns-haze · 3 months
Text
A blow for an answer
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!classmate!reader
summary: people see the two of you as the goody two shoes but truly there's only one real way you study.
warnings: smut, mention of bombings, blowjobs, unhinged coryo, work sex, dominance, short fic
A/n: This is my first hunger games post so I hope y'all enjoy!
It was a wednesday morning. It was your day when classes start an hour later than usual, allowing you to have a light sleep in before starting a whole day of hard study. Your room was only illuminated by the thin, bright beam of light that peaks through a gap in your curtains. It didn't quite disturb you till the light hit your face, stirring you to awake, quite so lightly.
You decide to turn in your bed to face the other way, pulling the covers further up so that the light didn't disturb you but the young seven year old did it instead. "Wake up! Coryo is about to be here!" Ellie's voice broke the silence as you lift your head to look at the alarm clock next to you. You slept in.
Nobody in the world would have ever experienced you jumping out of bed so quickly, running to your chair to get your ironed uniform to run to the bathroom. "Ells, why didn't you wake me sooner!?" You squeal running into your bathroom. "I tried to! It's not my fault you hibernate!"
You close the door shut and the first thing you do is run to the sink and open the cold tap. You let some water run before you splash a gracious amount onto you face to awoken you.
You had to get ready as soon as possible, Coriolanus will arrive any minute now and you've only risen from bed. Coryo, he was your classmate and assignments partner. The two of you always study together, it's what you do best. A lot of classmates tease that even though your head barely makes it out of books it's not like your father can't buy your way into further studies.
You didn't care about what they thought, now or never, their opinion doesn't matter, especially as you swash your mouth empty of toothpaste and begin to quickly brush your hair before grabbing some jell, water and hairspray. The quickest hairstyle you can maintain is your signature slick bun with a fancy hair tie at the base of the bun.
You've never dragged your hair back so quickly and aggressively, you needed to get it done now. The uniform was easy to put on but you wanted an easy make-up, just plain powder and mascara. You'll still look daring but quite plain for a rich kid.
You take out your powder and apply it onto one of your brushes. Your mom bought you this powder box years back, each time saying that she can replace it but you didn't want that you only got it refilled, it reminded you of times she was around more and let you dig in her stuff to play.
No more time to have sad flash backs. You throw off your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet as you slip on some red tights and your blue button up shirt. You put on the skirt, which has been made shorter for women during the years and throw on your blazer. Just on time.
------
Coriolanus was a man who was always punctual. Never missed a day of school in ten years or has never shown up late to any class. You admired that in him, he had potential, like your father says, 'his father was a man who loved his country, his son is much like him', and that was true.
Coryo knocks on the big wooden doors of your family home just to hear some squealing and screaming between the siblings. Like always your little sister Elizabeth runs to the door with hesitation, and peaks through the corner glass to see who has arrived. She smiles when she sees Coriolanus and screams upstairs, "Y/n, he's here! He's here!"
She does a little jump up and down as she twist the key that is at the other side of the door unlocking the door. She runs to him as he leans down locking her in a short hug as the little girl whispers to him ,"She slept in."
He let out a slight chuckle with that. The little girl throwing her older sister right under the bus at every chance she gets. He smiles at her as she talks about her playdate she had with a friend yesterday and how they have a rose garden, like the one his Grandma'am talks about but is quickly interrupted by you standing on the bottom step calling out.
"Ellie, Chase is in the kitchen waiting for you." She rolls her eyes and you give her a darn stare, the one that tells her to get in the move now and you close the door as you exit it and sigh. Coryo let's out another chuckle with that and smirks, "You slept in again, didn't you?" You groan, it's like he knows every time. Are you really that predictable? He laughs at that as he takes some of the books your holding and carrying them under his arm.
"I wouldn't have, if Highbottom was so stuck up and gave us a ten page essay to do in one night!" You moan as you never liked your dean. He was rude, alcoholic and possibly even a drug addict. In all those cases it proves that he should not have the right to teach young adults.
"Hey, I've seen you write essays and each time you get top notch marks. He can try to bring you down but he never will," Coriolanus confronts you as the two of you weave through the crowds trying to get to the university as fast as possible.
"And anyways, if you ever need some motivation to write an essay, you know where to find me," his stupid teasing, especially in public, makes your whole face go red and you shove him slightly but instead of managing to get him away he wraps his arm around you. "Aw, come on Y/n, you can't fight it."
"Oh, you're about to find out what I can or can't fight." You break off running leaving him miles behind. You look behind you to see Coryo throw his hands up in the air as you take off.
------
"Here's our golden girl," Arachne drags those words like nails on a chalkboard. She is one of those girls who run off daddy's money because between both of those ears is suppose to be a brain but no. Just emptiness. "Leave her alone Arachne, I bet once we all hear her essay our jaws will drop." Festus's comment made you let out a small smile, spoiled kids always tried to be bitchy and the best but there's nice words around sometimes.
"So where's your golden boy, I hope he's not with Plinth," Felix roles his eyes. Such an unmannered daddy's boy, your waiting for his father's campaign to be over to see what he's got to say then. He'll become a basic like the two of you.
"Don't be rude Felix, at least he has more manners then a pig like you," you snap at him being fed up of how he quickly insults Sejanus for his family and wealth but none of you are any better than that, it's just that he comes from district.
Festus let out an airy laugh as Clemensia bit her lip to prevent her laughter. You always knock Felix off his high horse and he always reminds you off the position his father holds so you come back at him with the same. You would've continued your little word scrap but the bell rang at that.
"Don't make me finish this off later, zip it."
------
"Who knows what sparked the painful action in the Capitols heart during the dark days?" Your dean asks the class. None of them try to make eye contact with him. Trying to avoid getting picked but here you where raising your hand to answer the question. "Yes Ms. Trevino."
"During the dark days the rebels bombed a shelter where the capitals wife's and kids of politics or generals where hiding. It caused deaths of twenty seven kids and nine wifes."
He nods at you, quite impressed of your knowledge and smiles. "Right, word to word, Ms. Trevino." He was impressed, no one writes about that in any book, the information barely exists anymore yet a girl in his class knew the question to the question almost immediately.
"Very well, what districts or rebels caused the bombing?" That question was meant for you only and know the whole classes eye lay upon you, waiting curiously for the answer.
"They were travellers. Didn't belong to a certain district, always on the move. They were found almost immediately and hung for their doing."
Another correct answer that he did not expect you to be able to get. You look up to see Coriolanus smiling with a proud look at you. He didn't know this himself but for you to be able to know that is quite incredible.
"If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Trevino. How do you have this information?" You hated talking about it, it was quite forbidden at your house. No word was mentioned, no tears were shed anymore, just pure acceptance.
"I lost a family member at that bombing, sir." The looks of pity filled the classroom as you said that. Coryo knew that you mentioned before that you had another older brother but all he heard was that he passed away tragically and here that theory was quite confirmed.
With you saying that, Highbottom went back to teaching from the book. It was a quite slow class leading from then on since all this information was way better covered in the essay you wrote from better sources, this was like a whole baby type of revision.
As the class went on your dean questioned you all on the material, which you knew top notch but the thing he announced after that was truly unfair. "Since you all seem so 'interested' in this sector, tomorrow I shall exam you on it. Ms. Trevino, you will be free from the exam since you've covered all of this in the work you handed me. Now, your all dismissed."
------
Your parents always liked Coriolanus, they believed that even though you get highest marks that he has a great impact on it and they're not wrong. The two of you work rather marvellously in a studying pair.
He sits at your desk since tonight you'll be studying here. You didn't have homework or study due to your dean letting you off but you could clearly see that Coryo was overly stressing at this point and none of the information was going into his head.
"Coyro," you murmur, sitting down upon his lap, pestering his neck with kisses and light bites as he continues reading the papers in front of him. "Hmm?" He hums as he is slowly losing concentration as you rock your hips back and forth over his clothed shaft that is tucked away in his uniform pants.
He isn't wearing the usual red skirt that comes with it, meaning you have less to remove before you start your magic, "let me relax you."
You sink down onto your knees and Coryo begins to feel the kisses that you give to his groin area. You sit up, perched, with your knees hitting the carpeted bedroom floor, in between his legs. You slip down the pants as they reach his ankles and to remove them fully he kicks them onto the floor, bringing his underwear with him.
He's fully exposed besides the blue school shirt that he still wears. You wiggle your body up straight and your face is in front of his sprung, half hard cock. You lean the side of your cheek in the dip of his hip and grab a hold of the hardening cock. You gently begging to tug at him watching his foreskin go up and down as it comes over his shaft. You stare at how he looks so big with your small hand.
As you continue the pre blowjob, Coryo tries to focus on his study notes, but each delicate touch of yours makes him feel like on cloud nine and it's only your little hand. You lean your head more in his hip dip to kiss his shaft from the bottom base to the very top of his shaft. You know this is making Coriolanus sensitive from the feeling of your lips on him creates an arousal.
"So, kiss kiss tell me what was the war?" The most simple question but you kissing every square inch of his cock made it hard to think straight. "It was…fuck…a rebolt against the capital…holy shit."
With the right answer you bend down to take his whole cock head in your mouth and begin giving it soft sucks, you weren't going to go very hard at the beginning. The hiss that left his mouth showed that he was beginning to enjoy this .
You hollow out your mouth and sink a tiny bit more, this wasn't a cheap fuck, it was basically a quiz, but with a lot more spice.
One of your hand is wrapped around his base as you lower your mouth in the top. You keep your movements steady after you ask the next question. Just the way he likes a blowjob. You eyes keep closed and enjoy the moment.
Around four questions later you begin to feel Coriolanus's breathing to pick up as you watch his chest move up and down more rapidly. From now, he has completely lost the ability to speak straight. He was feeling to good to concentrate and technically you've asked him on pretty much everything. The only thing that was in his mind was your warm little mouth around his big thick cock.
He accidentally jerks his hips up leading you to let out delicate gags as he hits the back of your throat, usually he's able to control himself unless he's fucking your mouth.
"God, Y/N." His moans are deep. Hearing him moan so loudly makes you get wet and turned in. You know that once your done with him, he'll give back a favour in return.
You continue bobbing your head up and down for a bit longer until you feel something on your tongue at his very tip, which he was leaking precum. He feels so good he feels his muscles in his stomach contract and thighs shake. He wanted to give you a warning before loading off in your mouth. "Y/N, fucking hell! I'm going to cum!"
As he throws his head back you begin to go faster. You suck hard since you don't intend to pick up the speed to much but you know it'll drive Coryo over the edge, it always does.
He ejaculates his hot cum in your mouth as you continue sucking his tio and rest your hand at the base of his shaft. His salty liquid happily makes it down your throat once you swallow.
Coyro's careless moans escape, he doesn't care about how load he's being. You make him feels so good and the two of you are alone in your house. He grabs the sides of the chair to build up pressures as he believes his orgasm moments. You stop sucking and tugging to not overstimulate him and lift your head off his limp shaft.
You sit up on your bent knees, breathing heavy from your lack of breath while giving the blowjob, and Coryo lays there almost lifeless, still trying to float back to earth. Then you crawl up his body and lay flat on his heaving chest, wrapping your arms under his back.
"I know you don't need to study but I think you deserve a recap of the woman's body autonomy."
Hunger games taglist:
@rosiahills22
@shanimallina87
@callsign-magnolia
@hardballoonlove
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@buckysteveloki-me
@hookslove1592
@kmc1989
@callsign-dexter
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sancrevm · 1 year
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seventeen: as boyfriends
song recommendation: something in the orange by zach bryan
note: thank you for all the love on my last seventeen post 🫶🏻
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seungcheol
very, very loving and protective.
messages you every night making sure you’ve ate and reminding you to go to sleep early for well needed rest.
he’ll walk on the side of the pavement closest to the road so you’re farthest from oncoming vehicles and makes sure to have a hold on you when crossing.
he’ll give you his coat when it’s cold out despite him shivering, caring much more for your welfare than his own. overall he’s a very giving boyfriend.
jeonghan
he’s a tease that cares deeply for you.
as a boyfriend he has a very warm heart, always having your best interests in mind and commits tender acts that you’re not even aware of.
though he may make comments that teeter on the edge of annoyance with his goading personality, you know he’s always joking.
when you’re ill he’ll be the type to scold you, “i told you you should’ve worn that scarf last night” while making a homemade tea remedy. he stays by your side the whole time, not caring if he catches the sickness, too.
joshua
literally the best boyfriend ever.
does all the stereotypical relationship acts but doesn’t care one bit that they’re deemed as cringy.
he’ll bring you flowers for no special occasion, buys matching items of clothing, takes pictures of you while staring at them lovingly and he definitely has you as his lock screen.
will be the type to have full blown conversations on the future even if you hadn’t been dating a full year. don’t be surprised if he has a ring picked out already.
jun
an affectionate mess.
he’s the type to both take your relationship seriously and also have a laugh; just letting it flow naturally.
will take you to dance with him late at night but doesn’t achieve anything because he’s too busy laughing on the ground with you.
will take you to every chinese restaurant in the area and shares very intimate parts of his life with you, the good and the bad.
hoshi
the cutest man to be in a relationship with.
you’re attached to his hip experiencing life at the fullest. of course one of your small adventures being a trip to the local zoo in support of his horanghae agenda.
he’s very affectionate - especially when drunk. he’ll always have a hand on you, either on your lower back when walking, squeezing your knee when sitting down or just outright holding your hand.
is another one to take pictures of you in every outfit and every occasion. he just says you look “too cute” for him not to have a whole folder dedicated to you.
wonwoo
a silent but devoted boyfriend.
it took him a lot of building up to say the words “i love you” but once he does, he can’t stop saying them. when you once pranked him by not replying, your heart practically broke by the lost, sad look on his face.
will leave you notes and messages for you to wake up and fall asleep to, some he’s too shy to say to you in person. every time he compliments you, a blush arises on his cheeks.
will teach you how to play his favourite games and watches movies with you late at night. he also loves giving you his hoodies because he simply melts at the sight of you in them.
woozi
he’s such boyfriend material honestly.
we all know, woozi would go crazy with songwriting with being in a relationship with you. arguably, his best songs would be about you ;)
let’s you stay in his studio to keep him company. even though you fall asleep every single time, just you being there calms him.
will buy you expensive gifts for anniversaries and little trinkets he thinks you would like on a random weekday. even though you argue he doesn’t need to, he loves seeing your face light up with a teddy he’s bought you or a bracelet that gleams on your wrist.
dokyeom
don’t settle unless you have a boyfriend like dokyeom.
cuddles you anywhere and everywhere, even though his favourite place admittedly is in bed, your head on his shoulder as he strokes a hand through your hair.
he’s so in tune with your emotions that he doesn’t realise that he laughs when you laugh, let’s a tear shed when you cry and so on. he likes to call himself your other half.
it’s his mission to kiss every inch of your body, he’s succeeded in all areas of your face so far. it was honestly quite shocking when he randomly kissed the tip of your nose without even a warning, a wide grin plastered on his face at the sight of yours.
mingyu
the most beautiful man as your boyfriend? sign me up.
does all typical boyfriend things. hugs you from behind, collects things from the highest shelf for you, goes on late drives with his hand on your thigh and much more.
cooks for you every chance he can get. he loves seeing your eyes widen at how his cooking skills can somehow improve every time.
you’ll be the type of couple to dance at 3am, singing heart wrenching lyrics at the top of your lungs with no focus in the world but each other.
minghao
the most calming relationship to exist.
whatever your personality may be, it’s impossible not to feel downright serenity when with minghao.
you’ll do many coupley-things together: meditation, yoga classes, stretching in the morning. you’ll always have small fits of giggles together between each move but you’ll still take the exercises seriously.
will read together late at night, or if you’re not a big reader he’ll narrate a book to you so you fall asleep. he’ll teach you chinese and also attempts for you to replicate at least one move in b-boying, but we all know that ends in the two of you laughing your hearts out.
seungkwan
having seungkwan as a boyfriend, you’re never bored.
he’ll be there for you through everything. not feeling great? he’s there cracking cringe-worthy jokes and embarrassing himself so you at least smile. feeling ill? he’ll cook up every remedy his mum taught him to make you feel the slightest bit better.
he sings you to sleep every chance he gets. whenever he’s caught up in seventeen’s schedules or his own variety show doings, he’ll message you a promise of helping you drift to sleep the next time he’s with you.
comes up with a new, innovative way of complimenting you every day. even if you’ve just woken up and haven’t even brushed your teeth yet.
vernon
a relationship filled with complete chill and zen.
you two have you’re own way of communicating with each other. when you meet eyes from across the room, you know exactly what the other is thinking.
won’t be the type of boyfriend to initiate skinship in public, but won’t leave you alone in private. his legs are always entwined with yours in bed, his arms wrap around your waist when cooking and so on.
will invite you over to his family home more often than necessary. his heart expands whenever he sees you interact with his sister like she was your own. he knew you were his partner for life from the first visit.
chan
a relationship filled to the brim with happiness.
he finds so much comfort in you that he thinks he relies on you too much. whenever he feels like this, he’ll set aside a day of doing everything for you: cooking, cleaning, even giving you a back massage.
like jun, he’ll take you to dance practice with him. he doesn’t get much work done, however, because if you’re lying down watching him, all he wants to do is lie next to you and cuddle you half to death.
will always be messaging you if he’s not with you. he’s either sending you updates on his hyung’s bickering, memes he found online or carat’s uplifting messages. his members know when he’s talking to you simply from this lovingly glazed look he gets in his eyes and a smile that refuses to leave his face.
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ikigaisvt · 4 months
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lucky
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in which your boyfriend realizes how lucky he is to have you.
pairing: idol!jeonghan x gender neutral!reader words: 1.6k content: fluff, comfort warnings: jeonghan is exhausted/sad and he cries, petnames (for jeonghan: angel, babe, baby, love / for reader: precious), mention of food and eating. note 1.0: omg sammy posting smth?!?? thought we'd never see that again,,, felt like writing fluff lately since i feel there's a Lot of smut for seventeen so here i am feeding my own wishes note 2.0: this idea came after seeing the last inside seventeen where jeonghan looked tired at the end (and it's so unusual of him, to show how tough something is). also felt awful yesterday night, and instead of being comforted by him, i wished to comfort him. minors are allowed to interact but please don't follow. hope everyone likes it, please be nice i haven't wrote anything in month,, reblog/feedbacks are always appreciated!
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Jeonghan has always felt lucky to be an idol. Of course, as any job does, it has its downsides – and this one has a lot, despite what he can say. He never once complained about his job, no matter what can happen. Being able to share his love for music to his fans, his brothers by his side is the biggest blessing of his life. That is well known to his family, his fans but mostly you, his partner, who hears him pours his heart out about his job until dawn.
However, there are days when it is harder than usual; days where practice or filming is so hard, he wishes to go home and sleep the worries away; days where he questions if he actually was made for that job. Today, that came in the form of a hard practice. What maybe Jeonghan hasn’t realized yet is how lucky he is to have you, especially at the end of a tough day.
 You haven’t seen your boyfriend a lot lately as he was busier than usual; preparing for his new comeback as well as going overseas to film content. However, as he has been back from Hungary a few days ago, you knew you’d be able to see him again today. You spent hours cleaning your apartment, cooking his favorite meals and stocking up on his favorite drinks, picking shows and music to listen to so you could spend the night talking, catching up together and laughing at the new memories he made. You were looking forward to it, but most importantly, you were looking forward to seeing him again. To feel his presence, to hear his voice and laugh and to be able to touch him. Oh, how much you missed him.
As you finished preparing everything for him, you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. Looking at the hour on your phone, you realized it was almost 11pm – which meant you were only minutes away from seeing your boyfriend. Getting up from the couch, you went to the kitchen to warm up his meal. You started pulling out different plates – jajagmyeon, tangsuyuk, kimchi pancakes and tteokbokki. "Okay, maybe I made too much this time, but I just want him to eat well," you think out loud. While you were filling smaller plates with side dishes, you heard the door opening, signaling that your boyfriend was finally home. Leaving the food behind, you left the kitchen to find your boyfriend – disheveled, hair picking out in all ways and tiredness showing on his face, struggling to get his shoes off.
“Jeonghan,” you call out to him softly, his head lifting up to find your eyes. And that’s when you realize how tired he really is. His smile is meekly showing up, his hair looks like he ran his hand through it multiple times – which is something he does when he is frustrated, dark circles are showing under his eyes but mostly, his eyes look sad, the usual playful lightness in them gone. “Are you okay?” you ask, your hand reaching out to him to let him know he is not alone.
“I-” he starts, his voice breaking a little bit, before clearing his throat, “I’m okay, I just can’t seem to get my shoes off.” he says, bending once again to work on the shoelaces.
You watch him for only a few seconds before sitting on the little step in your entryway, “Here, let me help you,” you say, gently tapping the floor in front of you, silently telling him to put his feet forward as you chase his fingers away.
“Babe, no-” he starts protesting, his fingers brushing with yours, trying to untie the knot faster.
“Shh,” you say calmly, getting a hold of his fingers, squeezing and letting go to work on the knots again, his feet slightly moving towards you, “You really tightened those well. That’s good, don’t want you falling down on your shoelaces during practice.” You say lightly, trying to make your boyfriend lighten up. You get his first shoe off, placing it gently next to yours, before working on the second one. As you were almost done with the second knot, you feel something wet falling on your hand, and you look up to see Jeonghan looking down at you, eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, getting a hold of his hand, “You’re okay, it’s fine,” you reassure him, squeezing his fingers tighter as he looks away from you, ears slightly red from the embarrassment of crying in front of you, his girlfriend. That’s such a Jeonghan thing, you tell yourself, “Let me get this one off and then we’ll get you to the couch, okay?” you tell him, earning a little nod as an answer. You get his second shoe off in record time and gently get up from the ground as you reach out for his hand, pulling him behind you as you lead him to the living room.
Reaching the couch, you make him sit down first before sitting down next to him, pulling your linked hands on your lap, your thumb slightly caressing his hand, “Are you okay?” you ask gently, trying to find his eyes but all he does is look down at his lap.
“I’m okay- Sorry about all this, practice was hard and I know you were excited about having a good time but stuffs happened and yeah-” he starts ranting as you listen intently to whatever he has to say, “Ah, sorry again. I’m rambling. I’m okay,” he says again, almost as he tries to convince himself, too, “Really.” He confirms as he meets your eyes, his smile not even reaching his cheeks.
“Love, you may be able to lie to your members but this doesn’t work with me,” you chuckle slightly, “What can I do?”
“I-” he starts, blush creeping on his neck again, his eyes looking around the room, “Will you hold me?” he whispers, hoping you heard him right as he finds your eyes again.
“Of course, angel,” you say as you lean back on the couch, opening your arms for him, his head finding a place to rest on your chest, “Let’s just stay like that for a little while, hm?” you whisper as you start running your fingers through his hair, “You can tell me anything, in case you need to pour it out.”
A few minutes passes by where you can only hear his soft breath – and little sniffles, his body slightly relaxing into yours as if it realizes it’s now finally home. “Practice was so hard today,” he says softly, his arm squeezing your waist a little more, your shirt getting wet with more tears, “That new choreography requires so much attention to details and we need to keep our energy up throughout all of it. I guess I wasn’t prepared to put that much work in it today.” He sighs as you let him know you’re still listening through little hums, “And we’ve just been back from Hungary, my body is still used to that time zone so I have a hard time sleeping. Also, I’ve missed you so I haven’t been able to recharge my batteries at all.” He admits, knowing he would have felt better if he saw you more in the past month.
“I’ve missed you too,” you tell him, leaving a little kiss on the top of his head.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, “For my mood and for ruining tonight.” He says softly, as more tears fall down.
“Baby, angel,” you say, your voice almost breaking to seeing your boyfriend like this, “Please don’t ever be sorry. Your job is not easy, you’re doing so much at all times and you do it well. It’s only normal for you to break down from time to time,” you whisper, running your fingers down his back, “I am so glad you decided to still come to me. It means the world. Please always come to me,” you tell him as he looks up at you, “Anytime you break down, I’ll help you build yourself up stronger, okay? You didn’t ruin anything, you’ll never do so. Your presence is always welcomed, no matter your mood. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, precious.” He says, as he gets up a little to meet your lips. You can taste the sadness – and the saltiness of his tears – on his lips as you take it away from him, take everything bad away from him, lodging it deep in your own body. So it can never hurt him again. You kiss once, you kiss twice, you kiss thrice; you kiss until there is no more sadness within him. You kiss until he can feel how you will always be here for him.
“Feeling better?” you question as you pull away from his lips, brushing hair out of his face and meeting his now shining eyes.
“Very much so,” he chuckles lightly, his forehead resting on yours, “Thank you,” he says, leaving a kiss on your forehead before finding rest on your shoulder.
“Wanna eat now?” you ask, still running your fingers along his back.
“Yes actually,” he says, looking up at you, “I’m so hungry,” he says in a whisper, still making no attempt to move away from you.
 “I made so much, I hope you’ll love it,” you answer him, still not getting up either.
“Let’s just- Let’s just stay like this for a little longer, hm?” he tells you, wrapping his arms around your middle, cuddling even closer – if that’s even possible, “Food can wait.”
Jeonghan truly feels lucky to be an idol – on most days, at least. But if he had to mention one thing, he feels the luckiest about – it’s to be your boyfriend.
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aaaaa thank you so much for reading! i forgot how nervewracking it was to post something- please like, reblog, comment and i'll love you forever!!
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How the Genshin Men See Their Wife
Hello again, loves! It’s been a while since I posted! I’ve just been really busy lol. But I am BACK baby with lots more ideas I want to explore!
Diluc, Kaeya, Childe x fem!reader
Genre: Hurt/comfort, romance. I didn’t mean to make this post hurt but it’s just the boys I chose have such sad circumstances :( especially Childe, that one stings. The other two have a lot more comfort in them.
Synopsis: Having a wife means different things to every man. It’s all about what kind of partnership they see in it. Someone to carry half the weight or someone to be responsible for? Someone that changes them or someone that appreciates them for who they are? All are completely valid! So let’s explore what you, our favorite men’s wife, means to them.
Content warnings: Repressed emotions (Diluc). Feelings regarding trauma and imposter syndrome, physical strike on hand; non threatening, non malicious, does not cause harm or hurt (Kaeya). Depictions of blood and physical harm, responsibly for another person taken too far to the point of self detriment, borderline obsession, marital contention and deep-rooted problems, threat of leaving (Childe).
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Diluc’s wife is his pride and joy. You are all he works for and all he wants to take care of. He’s always seen his management of the Ragindvr wine industry as his duty to his family name—a duty he was born with and suddenly had to shoulder alone after his father passed, leaving Diluc as the family head. Diluc found no joy in this labor, doing it solely for the sake of doing it—as he believed he had to. That he owed it to his father. But after he started loving you, once you had awoken his heart to the draw and vulnerability of being one with somebody, his sense of duty changed. For the first time in his life, he chose to be dutiful to something, to someone. His sense of duty to you was not inherited, but something he grew and tended to with his own hands. Your love is a garden he chose to start and maintain to full growth—continuing to prune and water and care for it well after it blossomed. Not out of a sense of obligation, but out of a sense of wonder—of accomplishment in how loving you changed him fundamentally. Of course Diluc sees your relationship as a partnership, but he doesn’t let you take on any burdens, even to his detriment. You do have to fight him to get him to let you take some of his emotional labor upon yourself—not wanting to leave him solely responsible for both you and himself. You need to poke and prod at him to get him to open up about his stresses, as he never wants to be a burden to you. He just wants to take care of you, never wanting himself to get in the way of that care—so you have to convince him to let you care for him in return. When it comes to financial responsibilty, you can have a job if you really want one, but otherwise, Diluc is more than happy to be a provider for both of you. It actually gives him a sense of fulfillment in his career if you let him be the breadwinner. For once, the duty he tirelessly served from the end of his late childhood into all of his adulthood finally has a physical purpose. If the money he brings home goes to your care, it is money well spent! Overall, caring for you creates a sense of home and comfort in Diluc; tending to you is beyond fulfilling, and he works while looking forward to returning to you with the fruits of his labor at the end of every day.
Kaeya sees his wife as his cornerstone, the rock upon which he can build a better self. You support him in ways he’s never felt he deserved, he never thought was possible for him. Kaeya was never able to rely on anyone to advise him or understand his complications. With such a big secret on his hands at such a young age, one he could not even trust his adoptive father with, one his adoptive brother rejected him for, he had always felt like he was treading water alone in a wild ocean—no lifeboats in sight. Your love took him by surprise. He was unable to accept it at first, pushing you away and holding you at arms length, even after you had started dating. Every time you inquired further about his feelings, asked him if you could see the parts of himself he hid, he dismissed you. Sometimes harshly. The first time you had asked to see what was under his eyepatch, holding his face in your hands with a look of love in your eyes, gently slipping the thumb holding his right cheek under the piece of fabric, he smacked your hand away. You fought, then separated for the day, and he thought he had lost you forever. His past once again holding him back from his future. But you came back the next day, embracing him once again with open arms like you always have, like you continued to do until he felt safe enough to let you see more of him. He was scared to open himself fully to you, terrified of your rejection, but as you dug and clawed away at the skin and bones shielding his heart, the horror he braced for never came. You poured warmth and love into him, melting the once-permanent icicles piercing his heart and washing him with relief. Someone loved him—for every beautiful and ugly part of him. His wife is the one person he feels he can always rely on. He will never feel alone in the world again, like his problems are solely his to face, because you will always be there.
Childe, much like Diluc, is a provider. But he, unfortunately, takes providing to an unhealthy level. Childe’s line of work is gruesome, but he bares his grim position in stride, knowing that in torturing himself, he is keeping those he loves safe and fed. You especially. His little wife is everything to him. He doesn’t know what he would do without you to come home to every night. To catch him in a warm embrace when he stumbles through the front door. He has no idea how he could sleep without you in his bed. How he had ever slept without you before. Maybe he never slept. You are just such a beautiful thing, he needs to make the world safe for you—so nothing can bring you harm. So you can keep smiling and brightening the world with your presence. His dedication to providing for you actually…harms your relationship. Watching your husband put himself through the ringer in your name is horrifying. Him coming home bloodied and beat at the end of every day is a constant source of contention and stress between you two. You’re worried about him, constantly grieving for him, and he’s indignant that you can’t be. That you need to be happy. He’s doing this for you! He can’t and won’t understand that him, your husband, working himself to death isn’t what you want. Isn’t what a marriage should be. You love him, he loves you…but you can’t go on like this. If the way he sees you as his wife doesn’t change, you can’t be his wife anymore. Though…it’s not like he’ll let you leave him. Not for his sake, but for yours. He can’t risk the world bringing you harm in his absence; fundamentally needing to stand in front of you and take every blow himself. So he’ll do what he can to convince you to stay, to adapt and change in a way that will remedy your relationship. He never wanted his partnership with you to be to your detriment. So he’ll put the work in to change it.
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Note
Can you post more for conrad fisher?
Request: Snow on the beach for Conrad pls?
Who has watched the first three episodes? I was waiting and refreshing my tv until it was time XD Also, don't forget to get on my taglists to get notified when I post something new! I have a lot of Conrad and Jeremiah in my draft
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Per Susannah’s wish, you all came down to Cousins to celebrate her last thanksgiving. The emotions were heavy, but Susannah wouldn’t allow anyone to be sad — not even for one second. She knew the tears and sorrowful faces would take over very soon, so she wanted to have one last happy celebration with everyone at the beach house. 
Being at the Fishers’ beach house outside of summer felt strange. The pool was a nasty green shade and the sun wasn’t shining all over the back porch. A thicker coat was shielding you from the late November chill, along with a scarf you had crocheted yourself. Steven loved to tease you and call you a grandma for crocheting, but he was always appreciative when you would make something for him. 
After dinner, Conrad and you went down to the beach. Unlike the last time, a pair of boots and a coat replaced your summer attires. 
You’ve always loved the beach — especially this beach.
The beach you grew up running to the water with Jeremiah, Steven, Conrad and Belly every summer, with your mother reminding you to put sunscreen on every few hours so you wouldn’t end up looking like a lobster. The beach Conrad taught you how to surf even if you were terrible at it. The beach you and Jeremiah buried Belly in the sand one summer. The beach you went to at night when you couldn’t sleep or had too much on your mind. The beach you and Conrad shared your first kiss. 
‘’It’s snowing,’’ Conrad pointed out, drawing your attention and pulling you out of your thoughts.
You looked up at the evening sky, seeing a spectacle of white flecks of snow coming down with no sound and all around. It was beautiful, yet felt impossible. Just like Conrad wanting you. A smile curled on your lips, marveling at the sight. ‘’It's weird but so beautiful at the same time.’’ 
Conrad came behind you, his arms circling you in his hold. A soft hum of agreement escaped his lips, perfectly attuned to the moment. You leaned back against him, both of you standing in awe of the snowfall. 
To immortalize the moment, you pulled out your phone and Conrad kissed your cheek as you snapped a picture. The snow was only slightly visible on the screen, but you knew it was there. Maybe you’ll add it to your Thanksgiving carousel on Instagram…or maybe you’ll keep it to yourself. 
Despite bundling up in additional layers, the crispness of the air still penetrated through your clothes, reminding you of the chill that accompanied the enchanting scene. You shivered, the night air slowly icing your fingers. Gloves felt too much, but now you were regretting not taking some with you to Cousins.
‘’You cold?’’ Conrad asked, taking your hands in his to warm them. Though his hands were slightly chilled as well, they felt warm over yours. ‘’Here. I’ll warm you up.’’ 
Appreciating his thoughtful gesture, you smiled up at him, the heat transferring from his palms to yours. 
You long felt guilty for taking something — someone — your sister had always wanted, but Belly was not blind. She saw the way Conrad looked at you, the smiles he kept just for you, and all the attention he always gave you. How he made you his priority — always. She wanted someone to love her like that. Someone who was cold-hearted with everybody else, but never with her. Someone who showed his feelings through small gestures and soft spoken confessions instead of going all Patrick Verona during his promposal to Kat.
‘’I love you, Conrad Fisher,’’ you whispered to him, enveloped by the quiet intimacy of the beach. ‘’You're the best thing that's ever been mine.’’ 
As the words left your lips, Conrad's curled into a soft smile. They were rare these days, but there was always one for you, even if it was small.
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1
TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti
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reveluving · 2 months
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mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki
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summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three. 
warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷
a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
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Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for. 
Two amazing boys. 
Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.
But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.
That was until they met you. 
You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.
The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.
“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.
Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater. 
“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth. 
“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.
Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?
“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”
“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”
There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.
He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies. 
You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look. 
“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”
You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest. 
“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”
You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace. 
Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did. 
Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.
Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.  
Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all. 
Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.
And then, high school ended. 
Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all. 
Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship. 
Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football. 
They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.
He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things. 
But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away. 
She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential. 
And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.
Shauna.
Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons. 
But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.
So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.
But her boy was insistent. 
Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong. 
And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two. 
But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had. 
It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam. 
Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.
If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same. 
Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.
Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.
And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother. 
Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?
And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.
But he didn’t have to wait for long.
The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.
In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.
There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.
And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.
Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.
But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.
On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.
Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often. 
Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.
Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.
And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
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bookns · 7 months
Note
babes i need some good percabeth fic rex’s preferably not spicy lol i need some nighttime reading material 😭😭😭
I GOT YOU oh my god I love this ask
the anatomy of a hurricane: barbarianprincess (all of their fics are amazing but this is my favorite)
Of Heists and Home Economics: chellethewriter
building memories on things not said: ahecen
it's human (you can lay your hands on me): riverv (literally all their fics) (I had this labeled in my notes "Can't read without crying - so lonely" ENJOY)
there's still color: mypetersburg
the annabeth project: pjoseries (divineauthor)
Meeting Percy and Annabeth: foreverfangirlwrites (She's pretty popular (her series A Rose By Any Name is really good) but for this fic is a comfort fic so if its not here I be pretty sad)(and her fic Into A Moment of Time - made me cry so bad. Like full on sobs with hiccups so read that too)
spread your wings and learn how to fly: roomtempcupofjoe (PRINCESS DIAIRES)
Eighteen Years a Hero: romanitas
graduating class: loveliet (all their fics are good but this one hits hard)
when the sun came up (you were looking at me): TheWritingManiac (if you liked Wendy Mass as a kid, this fic IS IT)
The Blood of Olympus: MariaClaire (just trust me)
I Would (Literally) Die For You: AverageCanadian (this author haunts me and made me cry to the point where I lost count so ENJOY)
What The High Tides May Bring: myshipsaresunk
A Mere Collection of Words: sunburst_city (WARNING: its not spice but it is implied - I didn't think it was too bad but if you want just skip this fic)
A Semester Abroad: ScienceFantasy93 (shits so good your gonna love Reyna)
Post Tenebras Lux: husborth (listen to Taylors swift You are In Love you'll thank me later)
Forever Cursed: RainySteve (sad. thats it. your warning is just the word sad. good luck solider)
etched on skin: unsureavenge (also check their fic End Of The Line I've spoken about it before and ohgod its just a masterpiece)
Here I Go Again!: percabethica (a Mamma Mia AU that I read before watching Mamma Mia - yeah that was an experience)
building memories on things not said: ahecen
Witnesses: Roselightfairy (I LOVE THIS ONE - comfort fic)
Won't Leave Any Doubt: maydayparade8123 (orphan_account)
We Only Want To Help: Believer1991
i wanna tell you, but i don't know how: polypanpercyjackson (thecuspofsomething)
gravity in the words we write: percyj
dates, demigods, and other divine disasters: fuwaaa
Rite of Passage: hanpersands (self plug; I have a fic just like this too if you like - link in my bio)
we made a lot of music dancing (you and i): vll8586
Arizona Sky: husborth
I Bet You Think Your Honey Tastes Like Sugar: Lex42069
and you knew what it was: aceofdiamonds
Surprise Baby: iannageorge
Late Night Rescues: IllusionsOfInsanity
The Library Book: unsureavenger ( I have no idea if I did them already but all their fics but THIS ONE in particular - literal chefs kiss)
just practice: knuffled (bigscary)
Save the Date: oreoz314
first i love u: RainySteve
take me to your best friend's house: mcpicktwo (I laugh at this one so much)
If We Have Each Other: jasonsmclean
Days Apart: likoricke (orphan_account)
you belong with me: scrxbbler
Fireworks: katebishoop
and of course, me, Bookns has Pjo fics (you know Can I Be Him but expect another fic in a day or two)
I know its a lot but I hope you like them. Some of these are my favorite and they are really close to my heart. I've only been in this fandom for about three years so there's a lot I missed but I think I read a lot for my own good. I recommend Taylor swift entire discoraphy but especially you are in love - Enjoy Darling
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carpedzem · 16 days
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hi
under the cut i want to talk a little bit, maybe overshare as well. ill try to keep it short (rereading nat here. i didnt). its a sad post, might make some of you angry but not for the reasons you think
i was staying away on purpose, but a few people asked about me so i wanted to let you know that hey, im lurking, im waiting to see what happens. maybe some things will change in the future but im putting it out here so its all in one place
i think i want to start with saying thank you again for sticking around, supporting my art and my thoughts and having discussions with me. i really opened up about myself and what I created here. im very anxious person and it influences my life on every level, so being heard, seeing people laughing at my jokes, loving my art has been so so important to me
about the situation, the gogcident if you will, i logged out as soon as i saw things going down and been getting updates though different source. and while situation is still on going and i dont know where it will go, as how it ends, theres two or three things im firm on that will always be true for me:
i really hate how believe all victims turns into believe everyone who speaks first, no matter what they say, no matter context, no matter proof. the first statement made in this case was untrue in a lot of important details and while i dont think caitis feeling are wrong or invalid i think her first statement made this situation into something it isnt. i think every victim should be heard but attacking everyone who was accused right away is not a solution
i do believe that everyone who was accused of anything has every right to defend themselves. the way its constantly taken away from dteam is not lost on me and its insane and upsetting
you can be traumatized by the events that werent in its core meant to be traumatizing. sometimes people act shitty and leave scars on you and sometimes you can do the same to other people
edited note bc i want this to be here as well: guilty until proven innocent is a crazy mindset and i cannot imagine situation that i would allow it. some idiots dont even realise how dangerous rhetoric that is. including accusers not being obligated to provide any proof of their claims
twt is the worst thing to deal with any discourse, misunderstanding or any delicate situation. i think no ones there cares for any victims period. i wish that place the worst
okay so what now. i havent decided yet. georges and dreams moves so far confirmed for me that no matter what happened it wasnt with malicious intentions. ill wait to see how this plays out and then ill decide about my next steps. one think i did for sure is i uninstalled twt from my phone (and that already bit my ass the moment dream started his space…) that part of fandom, both people who like (liked?) and hate dream is so damn self-destructive, toxic, manipulative and performative it wasnt worth it anymore. for here, i dont know yet. i dont hate dteam, i think this is very unfortunate and sad and complicated situation that left people very deeply hurt. and i wish it wasnt this way and im pretty sure dteam also wish that. but they cant change it and i cant change it even more
now this is something i dont really know how to tell you but let me try. i never mentioned this bc when i had those realizations, it was too late, everyone moved on and i felt stupid for dwelling on this. i feel stupid now, typing this. the thing is, drituation left me quite traumatized. fucking pathetic, i know. the sudden explosion of fandom left me really badly hurt. i lost a lot of people i genuinely believed to be friends with, and i miss them dearly. i felt, fuck it, still feel deeply betrayed by some of them. i dont want people guess who is who thats not the point, those people moved on long time ago. but that hurt has been really difficult to deal with, especially since realistically i know its quite stupid. crying over some people who were following me back for a few months? but i tried to let myself heal and grow love for this community again and i thought we will be okay. drituation felt like the end of the world but we got through it and I thought we are smarter. and well. im not trying to blame anyone or even a whole community, idk maybe i want to blame the universe for putting me here or society for working this way i dont know. but im hurting and i need to find a better way to deal with things going the wrong way. and it deeply upsets me but im afraid that i have to learn how to love you all less. and i honestly dont know yet what that means, how moving forward will look like. i dont have to make this decision now so i let myself stay away from social media for a while still and then go with presented situation the best i can. i dont try to make anyone responsible for my wellbeing i want to make this clear. im just trying to share my feelings and give you context for whatever happen in the nearest future. no matter what i need more healthy relationship not even with ccs but with community itself (and if you see me rebloging hazbin hotel fanarts. spare me...)
in this place i do want to state that no matter what i dont think dteam are bad people. im not closing myself at possibility of participating in the fandom, probably less though things i mentioned earlier. but if any of those things make you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to unfollow/softblock
im leaving my askbox open if anyone has anything to say, add, or idk, scream at me. not sure if i answer any tho. also if i delete this post in the next 10 minutes out of embarrassment then well, haha
on the final note i want once again thank you all for supporting me when i needed help for my cat. you all did something amazing, something i will never forget and i wish to hug everyone of you in person. thank you
see you around. one day. maybe tomorrow maybe in 10 days. idk
and if you are moving on in different direction, if we ever meet again, dont be a stranger
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stop-talking · 1 month
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So I guess I should do an intro post / fanfic masterlist
Hi.
• I'm 20 yrs old, she/her, and obsessed with Josh Hutcherson. (Mike & Futturman especially have my heart)
• I'm new to writing, but I read like crazy and spend 90% of my time daydreaming up little stories about my favorite characters. Just using Tumblr as an outlet to get those little stories to the world.
• Feel free to request any fanfic related to a jhutch character. I'm most comfortable writing for Mike, Futturman, and Derek, but I'm willing to try to write for other characters. (Minus Peeta. Thinking about the Hunger Games makes me unreasonably sad & I'm not sure I know his character well enough to do him justice.)
My Works
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
✩ Mike Schmidt:
You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (18+)
Exactly what it sounds like. His babysitter goes missing, but he can't leave Abby home alone. Unfortunately, he's broke as fuck, and can't afford to pay someone to watch her. So... he calls you. He'll endure your bitchy attitude and relentless teasing if it means his sister will be safe. Somewhere along the way, endure turns to enjoy.
Fem reader; 10k words (total)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
No Abby, we're not getting ice cream.
Silly little one-off about the average shopping trip for Mike and Abby. He's just trying to get things for dinner, but Abby has other plans. Just Mike being the single mother that he is.
Mike's POV; 1.2k words
Read here
Open wide (18+)
Mike hasn't been to the dentist since he was a kid, but with his new job, and health insurance... he really has no excuse not to. One problem, though. He doesn't remember the experience being so... erotic? Is he insane, or is the attractive, young, dental assistant... hitting on him?
Gender-neutral reader; 2.8k words
Read here
Sleepless Nights
Abby is sure something's up with her brother. He's always been tired, sure, but ever since the events at Freddy's... well, he's gotten a lot worse. The stubborn man won't let her help, so she convinces him she's the one in need of comfort.
Abby's POV; 500 words
Read here
Gender-neutral reader; 2.8k words
✩ Derek Danforth:
So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (18+)
You're hired by his mother as a last resort to try and get him sober. Alone with just him for three weeks, your job is to rehabilitate him.
Unfortunately, Derek sees you as his personal chef, maid, and whore. You flat-out refuse at first, but well, after so many days of only interacting with each other... The lines are a little blurred. something-to-lovers. It's complicated.
Fem reader; 19.3k words total (so far)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 (Part 7 coming soon)
✩ Josh Futturman:
Win for me ♡ (18+)
You're tired of your boyfriend paying more attention to his stupid game than you. So, late one night, you take matters into your own hands. Literally. Hopefully his little gaming buddies don't mind hearing him moan into the mic...
Gender-neutral reader; 2.3k words
Read here
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
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harrygoeswest · 1 year
Text
Love Aged Like Fine Wine
Harry is drunk and lost not too far from home, and there's only one person he wants to call to rescue him.
A/N: Hello everyone 👋🏼 it has been a loooong time since I posted anything on Tumblr, and I was admittedly reluctant to do so. However, I reblogged the lovely Sarah's (@harry-on-broadway) fic challenge the other day and it inspired me, and I would be doing a disservice to write the whole thing and never look at it again, especially since I quite like it. SO, I give you my first one shot in over a year. Bear with me, I'm a bit rusty... Special mention as always to Miss Liz (@all-things-fic) for reading and validating me.
I'm using prompts 14 & 19.
Trigger Warnings: Absolutely nothing (apart from the odd f word)
Word Count: 6533
~~~
“What do you want, Harry?”
An offended scoff was his initial response. “Not a very nice way t’greet y’best friend.”
He was right, it wasn’t. “You’re not my best friend.”
“Ouch. Though’ we were besties ‘n now y’makin’ me feel sad.”
Harry was slurring more than he usually did. I feared if he tried to say obviously, ‘overshly’ would turn into a soft, deep single syllable alike to the word ‘shush’. It wasn’t particularly late to warrant his level of drunkenness. Especially on a Tuesday evening. Chewsday, if you will.
“Harsh truths are easier to take when you’re drunk.” I said, shrugging as if he could see the action.
“Why’re y’bein’ so ‘orrible?” He whined.
“Why are you calling me pissed as a fart at 8:45 on a Tuesday night and ruining my bath time?”
“‘S there some space lef’ in the bathtub?”
“Don’t make it weird.” I grimaced. “What’s going on?”
He produced an incoherent mumble. I heard the rain get heavier, both on the phone call and outside my house.
“What was that?”
“M’st…”
“Aye?” I asked, my face surely a bewildered picture.
“I’m lost.” He huffed, agitated.
I sat up in the bath, water and suds sloshing around me. “Lost?”
“Yes.”
“W-,” words failed me, and I barked out a sharp laugh. “How are you lost?”
“How does anyone else get lost?” He said, stroppy.
“Wow, you really are drunk.”
He hummed, but it was a defeated noise. “C’ya come ‘n get me?”
“How am I supposed to come and get you if you don’t know where you are?”
“Well I was only at The Holly Bush.”
I laughed twice as hard that time. Put in perspective, The Holly Bush is no more than a ten minute walk from Harry’s house. “How long have you been walking?”
“‘Bout ‘alf an hour.” He muttered.
Now I was really howling, like a hyena on laughing gas. “Jesus Christ, Harry!”
“‘S not funny!”
“On the contrary, years of comedy begs to differ.”
He practically cried my name down the phone. “‘M really tired ‘n cold ‘n… weh,” I think he meant wet, “please come get me.”
I took a deep breath and mourned my premature bath. “Fine. But do not move from wherever you are.”
“Won’t.”
I stood up and watched water and soap suds cascade down my body with a pout. “What can you see?”
“Er…” a pause followed, I assumed for his vacant thoughts. “‘S like a lot of trees.”
I rolled my eyes. “That could literally be any part of the Heath, mate. Say more words.”
“I can’t see shit! It’s dark and it’s pissing it down!”
“Don’t get arsey or you can stay there and drown in rain water.” I warned him. “Find a road sign. Or a street name.”
He grunted. After no more than fifteen seconds he produced, “Platt’s Lane.”
“Alright, I know where that is. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“Thank you.” He said. At least I think that’s what he said.
I murmured a little, “Sure,” and then hung up. 
I dressed quickly in the easiest clothes I could find - a pair of tie-dye jogging bottoms, an old t-shirt and a crewneck over the top. I pulled on the first pair of trainers I could find and ran out to my car whilst fighting the rain. I also took a towel with me. My hair was still in the bun I’d put it up in for my bath.
It was really battering it down now - it was loud inside the car and the windows were steamed up. It was even louder when I turned the air conditioning on to defog the windows.
Once I could see outside the front and back windows I finally made my way to find Harry. I still mourned my bath as I drove - I missed how warm it was and how comfortable I had been. Now I was out in the cold and wet to rescue my drunken idiot friend.
It didn’t take me very long to find said drunken idiotic friend. He was sitting on a yellow grit box under some trees at the junction of Platt’s Lane and West Heath Road. He was soaking, shoulders slumped and looking at the floor. I pulled up as close to him as possible and leaned over to push the door open.
“Get in, you moron!” I called.
Harry looked up at the sound of my voice. He leapt to his feet almost immediately after, and staggered his way over to my little car. He nearly tripped over twice on his way, and he hit his head as he sat down.
“Fucking hell.” I muttered. “Look at the state of you.”
He grumbled, readjusting his sodden jacket, and then looked right at me. His hair was drenched, water dripping from his neck down his arms and chest, and his forehead down his nose and cheeks.
“Here,” I threw the towel at him. “You’re gonna make my car smell.”
“‘S tha’ the wors’ a’ya problems?” He asked, a snide tone laced in his mushy words.
“I wish it was.”
I pulled off again as Harry began to attempt to dry himself off, although I feared a towel would do very little to help him. Fortunately we were only a mere five minute drive from his house anyway. He probably could have walked home faster if he were sober. 
It was a relatively quiet drive since Harry spent most of it rubbing my towel over every available inch of his body. He did however sing along to the one song he heard playing, but he didn’t quite have the same masterful tone as usual. He even seemed quite timid.
I parked as close as possible to his front door and shut the engine off.
“Where are your keys, H?”
He gave me a dopey blink and then looked down at himself, double chin appearing accompanied with a pouty lower lip. “Dunno. On me somewhere.”
I sighed and unclipped my seatbelt, then reached over to him to feel through each of his pockets for his house keys. Of course I found them in the hardest one to reach on the inside of his jacket. He giggled while I did, like a child being tickled. I smacked him on the arm before I got out of the car.
I ran up to the front door and unlocked it, opening it so that my paralytic companion could be jettisoned inside his home as quickly as possible without getting more wet.
“Come on, then,” I said as I opened the passenger door, my shoulders hunched because the rain felt weird on my neck.
Harry practically fell out of the car at my instruction, so I lifted him up and placed his arm around my shoulder so I could manage his weight better. I kicked the car door shut behind us and walked him to the door. I realised on our little walk how unfit I was.
“‘M sorry.” He mumbled.
“It’s fine.” I said, my voice tight. It was only strained because he was heavy and I was weak.
“Didn’t even think I drank tha’ much, was only few whiskeys.”
Only a few could range anything between 3 and 30. I didn’t chide him for that. “It’s alright, Harry. I’m sure you’d do the same for me.” I meant that genuinely and not as a threat I’d be getting that level of drunk in the future just to call him to rescue me.
“Would.” He insisted.
I awkwardly held onto him as we got inside, twisting at an awkward angle to close the door and keep any more rain from getting in. Harry felt like dead weight against me.
“Ready to get upstairs?”
His affirming nod was the surest action I’d seen from him this far.
“Alright,” I took a deep breath, “let’s go.”
I made sure we navigated the stairs one at a time, because I had visions of him tripping up and cracking his head open if he tried to do anything by himself. And now, in the warmth of his massive home and up this close to him, the boy reeked of stale beer and sweat. I didn’t want to ask what he’d been doing in The Holly Bush for him to get that bad. I hadn’t seen him that wasted in a very long time.
“Meant it, y’know.” He slurred.
We were only halfway up the stairs and all I could hear was my own panting. Admittedly I was surprised he hadn’t passed out yet. 
“Meant what?” I heaved, and pushed him up the next step.
“I w’ do the same f’you.”
“I know you would.”
“Don’t even have t’ be drunk.”
“Right.”
We stopped for a minute, not at anyone’s request but Harry didn’t seem to want to move. I looked at him as he did me, and he produced this hazy-eyed, closed-lip smile. 
His woolly but content expression made me laugh. “I think it’s bed time for you, mate.”
He groaned. “Don’t call me ‘mate’.”
I frowned. “Alright. Sorry.”
When we finally reached the top of the stairs, Harry collapsed on me by way of a hug. We were standing in the middle of the hallway, his entire body somehow wrapped around mine. I was suffocating in the smell of a brewery.
“Don’t leave me.” He begged.
“I’m not… Need to get you to bed somehow.”
He pulled his head back to look at me, eyes heavy. “You can take me to bed.”
“That’s what I just said.”
He nodded repeatedly like a bobble-head figure. 
I made a face, perturbed, and nudged him in the direction of his bedroom. He nearly fell over as he turned around, and ended up palming the wall the rest of the way. I kept a hand on his back just in case.
As soon as he saw his bed he was climbing onto it, still fully clothed and in his muddy trainers.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, reaching after him like he was a toddler, “Harry, take your shoes off.”
He laughed maniacally into his bed sheets, the muffled sound disturbing.
I huffed with a scowl and did it myself. His vans were dripping wet so I took them to the radiator and left them on top to dry. I made sure the radiator was turned on, too. The last thing Harry Styles needed was the flu again.
He was sitting up now, watching me with a warm expression. I ignored it.
“Need to take your clothes off or you’ll get a cold.”
“Yes, Miss.” He was beaming now.
The attempt at taking his t-shirt off was painful, and I ended up having to help him.
“Jeans too.”
I knew that would be more agonising to watch than the t-shirt, and I didn’t want to have to look at his bare chest for too long, so I went for a walk to the closest bathroom to get another towel. His jeans were still around his knees when I got back.
“Jesus Christ.” I said through gritted teeth, and freed his jeans from around his ankles. They were a heavy kind of damp and thudded when I put them on the floor.
“‘S cold.” He commented, staring up at me.
“I’ve just put the radiator on.” I told him, and handed him the towel. “I’ll find you some clean pants.”
I left him to dry his no doubt tacky chest and legs while I searched through his drawers for some clean underwear. I threw them at him once I’d located them.
“Where’s your laundry basket?”
“Wardrobe.” He said, voice getting gruff.
I collected his dirty clothes from off the floor again and wandered into the walk-in wardrobe attached to his bedroom. I stared at it for a while, not just because it was ginormous but also because I couldn’t believe the amount of crap in it. It was bulging with clothes - some I hadn’t seen him wear for years and others I hadn’t seen him wear at all. Ever. 
I dropped the clothes in my hand onto the overflowing basket in one of the cupboards, hating to do so because it was just adding to more chores. And then I realised that this was not my house and I would not be responsible for washing any of his clothes.
“Harry, do you want something to wear in bed if you’re cold?”
He never answered.
I peered into the bedroom to see he’d already tucked himself into bed.
“I guess not.” I muttered.
I stood next to his bed and watched him for a minute. His eyes were closed and he was breathing regularly but I couldn’t work out if he was actually asleep or just pretending to be. His eyelids looked shiny and delicate and his cheeks were dusted pink - a combination of his inebriation and being outside in the cold for so long. I could hear the radiator chugging and it was definitely warmer than it had been when we arrived.
Without thinking, still staring at him while possibly passed out like a lunatic creep, I wrapped my index finger around one of his curls and moved it out of his face.
He giggled suddenly, catching my wrist. “That tickled.”
I smacked his hand away. “I thought you were asleep, you absolute git!”
“Not yet.”
I rolled my eyes and scowled at him. “I’m goin’ home. Seeing you in bed is making me want mine.”
“Can always share mine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I scoffed, and made a move to leave. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
“Aye, wait!” He shouted at me.
“What?”
“I don’t want you t’ leave yet.”
“Well, I’m exhausted, and you’re about to pass out on me anyway.”
He said something that was complete and utter incoherent nonsense.
“I don’t know what you just said but I’m not changing my mind.”
He whined my name again and reached for my hand. “Please stay bit longer? Like havin’ y’here, havin’ y’around.”
“Well, that’s nice of you to say, but I still want my own bed.”
“Please?”
“No.” I stood my ground, but I took a step closer and pinched his cheek. “But I’ll come back tomorrow after work if that makes you feel better.”
“Feel better if y’stayed wi’ me now.”
“Well that’s not going to happen. Just call me if you need anything.”
“Need y’now. Need y’all the time.”
“Stop being daft.”
“‘M not bein’ daft - I mean it.”
“You are being daft. Just go to sleep - I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise.”
He stressed my name and sat up. “Y’not listenin’ to me. ‘M bein’ proper serious - I want ya t’ stay wi’ me. I need y’here.”
“No, what you need is sleep.”
He scowled at me.
“I’m going to go and get you a pint of water and a paracetamol and then I’m going home. And that’s the last we’re gonna say on this, end of.”
I left the room and  found my way to the kitchen, though admittedly I did get lost on my way there since I’d only been here once before and it was a considerable amount of time ago. I did as promised and got him a pint of water and found some paracetamol in a drawer full of miscellaneous items close to the sink.
I couldn’t fathom why Harry was so needy, insobriety aside. We were friends, yes, and had been for some time, but we weren’t that close. Or perhaps we were and I just refused to admit it due to his increasing popularity and the fact that being perceived near him in the public eye terrified me. I was perfectly happy with my mundane job and my mundane life. I appreciated Harry for what he was - a friend -, and didn’t expect anything more or less from that level of our relationship. Nor had I ever, and it surprised me that he suddenly did.
Perhaps I was overthinking it all. That was likely.
I returned to Harry’s room to find him out of bed in just his pants.
“What are you doing?” I asked, putting the water and the tablets on his bedside table, trying to avoid looking at his chest.
“Need the loo.” He said without hesitation, and marched past me.
I sighed, watching after him until he was safely in the bathroom with the door closed, and then I perched on the edge of his bed with my head in my hands.
I was irritated, yes. I knew I shouldn’t be as irritated as I was, but I couldn’t help it. This was not the evening I had planned for myself. I was supposed to have an early night and go to work in the morning with a clear head and no bags under my eyes. Now I was going to look like the walking dead, and feel like it too.
I stood up again when Harry reappeared. I watched him stagger and sway across the corridor and it made me nervous. He tripped once and nearly smacked his face against the doorframe.
“Fucking hell, Harry.” I said, panicked, and reached forward to steady him.
He laughed, more a giggle of that from a small girl. “I’m so drunk.”
“I know you are. That’s why you need to get into bed.”
“I will, jus’ one more thing before I do,”
I thought he was going to start running riot around the house and I was going to have to chase after him, like a dog owner with a tyrannical pooch. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around my middle and shoved his face into the crook of my neck. His body was warm and it felt strange being this close to him when he had so little clothes on.
I let out a long breath, reciprocating it this time. “You’re a twat.”
He hummed when I stroked my hand over his damp hair. “Not very nice.”
“And yet still true.”
He grunted, but never moved a muscle. A moment of silence passed before he said anything else. “Thank you f’ comin’ to rescue me.”
“Sure, anytime.” I didn’t mean that. Or maybe I did, but I’d be bitter about it if it became a recurrence because I couldn’t stand to disappoint people who meant a lot to me.
He let me go, and I thought that was finally going to be the end of it. Instead, he took my face, quite harshly, between both of his hands until my cheeks squished. His gaze was dopey and warm again, but somehow different to last time. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Harry, that hurts.”
He ignored me. “I love you.” It sounded more like ‘ah luff you’ but that wasn’t relevant in the moment.
“Yeah, I love you too, now let go.” I was trying to pull his hands away but apparently he was still physically stronger than me even that drunk.
“No,” he shook his head at me and then brought what felt like my entire body against his chest. “I mean I really love you.”
I couldn’t see anything. I felt us begin to fall sideways, but with his strength I had absolutely no control over where we were going.
“Harry!” I screamed, still trying to fight him with no luck.
I think we hit the bed because the landing was softer than anticipated and Harry didn’t wince or flinch. That could also be attributed to the levels of alcohol in his body. He was probably majoritively quite numb.
“Y’like, my favourite person.” He said, voice much quieter now, and I could feel his nose in my hair. My face was pushed into his chest. “Want y’around all time. Rubbish a’ showin’ it but I miss y’when ‘m nor’ at home. ‘N I don’t mean everyone, I mean jus’ you.”
I was listening to him with baited breath. I’d never really been on the receiving end of ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’ - I was usually the one talking and making a fool of myself. Once I told my sister’s boyfriend (at the time) what I really thought of him in front of our entire family after keeping my mouth shut for so long. They broke up the next day and she came to live with me for a month. I felt almost paralysed now listening to Harry.
“Mus’ think ‘m nuts ‘cause I’ve never said anythin’ before, bur’m scared. You’re a scary woman.”
I tried not to take offence to that, even though it was likely true. I had tried for the longest time to give off a very ambiguous aura. I didn’t want anyone to know me, least not the real me. I liked the illusion of being dead inside even if I was far from it.
“Loved y’ for so long now I can’ ‘ide it anymore.” He was really slurring now and words were about to fail him. Somehow, he was still holding onto me. “‘M like tha’ 1975 song.” I wanted to ask which one, but I didn’t have to. He proceeded to sing the words, “I’m in love with you.”
Just once he sang them, maybe slightly off pitch but it still sounded good. Not sure it would hold up to any of his previous performances, but I’d take it.
I didn’t know what to say. I was in a state of shock to be honest and the thought of moving terrified me. But then his grip around me loosened, and he let out a singular loud snore.
I pulled back, horrified, to see his sleeping face - mouth wide open. Another snore was released. “You are fucking joking.”
I sat up, his limp body falling away from me. I smacked his arm in the hopes of waking him, but he never flinched. “Harry,” I said, hitting him again.
Still no movement.
“Oi.” Smack.
Nothing.
I didn’t know what to do. Who does that? Who makes an admission like that and then falls asleep? And why did it have to be this boy? I was speechless, and when I finally managed to clamber off the bed I was also useless.
I stared at him with a look of bewilderment, as he lay there passed out on his unmade bed, mouth agape and naked besides his white y-fronts. It was then that the reality of what he’d said hit me, and I started to cry.
I wasn’t angry or upset - I was overwhelmed. Drunkenly, Harry had just told me he loved me. Then immediately passed out. Now I was left with my own feelings and his and no one to talk to about it. What was I supposed to do?
I desperately wanted to leave and get some sleep, but I also couldn’t help but think that would be morally inappropriate. Leaving a friend alone while dangerously intoxicated was how 50% of all murder documentaries started. Not that Harry was likely to get killed by an intruder in his mansion complete with security fortress. But he might accidentally fall down the stairs or choke on his own vomit.
And yet, the idea of staying in this massive and unfamiliar house to process all those thoughts made me even more hysterical. The idea alone provoked a loud sob, and I quickly covered my mouth because it was such a horrendous sound.
I made my decision that instant. I put Harry properly into bed with all of my remaining strength, covered him with his duvet, and then I fled from his house like a bat out of hell. On my way out, I took his spare keys with me.
I barely slept that night. My head was swimming and even though I couldn’t keep my eyes open, my brain was in overdrive. That, and the cat was sleeping on my chest and purring right in my face. His whiskers tickled my nose.
I found myself thinking about the early stages of mine and Harry’s association. 
I couldn’t have called him a friend when we first met because I hated him. I don’t think that feeling was ever reciprocated on his part but I couldn’t ever stand to be in the same room as him. Why? Because I felt the need to constantly contradict societal comments and beliefs. The world - at least people in my world - deemed him a golden boy who never did any wrong. I was convinced it wasn’t the case. My downfall was my lack of determination to prove it.
We met through mutual friends, as these things always seemed to happen. I couldn’t even remember which friend it was - neither me nor Harry talked to them anymore. But one day he was just there, and periodically from then onward he continued to show up. I couldn’t even remember when it was, but it was before he cut all his hair off. One Direction’s last few remaining days, perhaps? Anyway, he was suddenly omnipresent and came with an abundance of attention and it infuriated me.
I remember once, Harry confronted me on my obvious dislike for him. That was our first encounter collectively with ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’. I can’t remember exactly what I said but I wasn’t very nice and I remember the Bambi look in his eyes when I walked away from him. After that he was notably absent for some time. If I asked him about it now I’m not sure how honest he’d be about it. He was lucky enough to be able to claim work absences for long periods of time - I imagined he’d use that excuse. How truthful that would be, I didn’t know.
Our reconciliation came after that. He saw me alone in the nearby shop and asked me to join him for a coffee. I couldn’t really say no - it was a Sunday afternoon and I was only going back home to vegetate for the rest of the day. I think it was spring - I probably would’ve just read a book and gone to bed early. We spent the next 3 hours in Ginger & White, and after we got kicked out of there we went up to The Holly Bush, ironically.
I saw a different side to Harry that night, and I always put it down to having him to myself. There was no one else there with us apart from the locals in the pub who wouldn’t bat an eyelid. It was just us, and he was unapologetically himself, as was I.  We suddenly had an entirely new perception of one another - a higher level of understanding. On that random Sunday evening alone, I came to appreciate Harry for just being Harry. I saw who he really was, and I liked him.
From then on, I enjoyed his company. It became a regular thing - an afternoon doing something random together, just the two of us. And it ranged from simple coffee shop talks to entire day trips out of London. I realised then that what we’d basically been doing was dating for about 5 years with no physical contact.
I laughed out loud, disturbing the cat. He ran off and left me alone. 
We’d had our own intimate relationships with other people outside of our friendship, which I guess is why I’d never thought about it that way before. He also seemed to do that with multiple other people - I wasn’t the only one. Was I?
I never had to apologise for the night I was rude to him. I always wondered why, and I always berated myself for not saying I was sorry. I’d admitted I was wrong about him a long time ago, but only to myself. It seemed a bit too late to do it now, but I assumed he’d forgiven me. I could’ve been wrong.
I think I finally fell asleep around 4am. My alarm for work went off just 3 hours later and I burst into tears as soon as I realised the situation I was in. I called into work sick and went straight back to sleep.
How much more sleep I had was uncertain. It felt like only 2 hours, but it could’ve been more. Since I wasn’t working, I decided to get a McDonald’s after showering. Mostly for Harry rather than me, although I’m sure he’d make a comment about it.
I used the key I’d stolen last night to let myself in and went straight up to his bedroom with the McDonald’s in my right hand. Except I didn’t make it to his bedroom, because I found him on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, on his front with his cheek pressed to the tile floor.
“Harry…?”
He moaned, limply raising his hand and dropping it again immediately.
I moved into the room, leaving the McDonald’s in the hall because the smell would not go well with the pre-existing one in the room. It seemed Harry had vomited since I left. I sat on my knees beside him and stroked a finger through his curls, similar to how I had done last night.
“Are you alright?”
“Not really.” He said, voice whiny.
“No, I’m not surprised. I brought you some breakfast.”
He managed to lift his head and look towards me. I pointed at the hallway and he followed where my finger suggested.
“What is it?”
“McDonald’s.”
He screwed his face up. “You know I don’t eat meat.”
“Yes, that’s why I got you a Fillet-O-Fish. And mozzarella sticks.”
“Not very healthy.”
“Well, boiled eggs and avocado doesn’t make for very exciting hangover food if you ask me.”
He blew a breath out so that his lips wobbled. “True.”
“You gonna sit up and eat it?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Come on, then,”
I took his arm and helped pull him to a sitting position. He sat against the bathtub and rolled his head back, mouth open and breathing heavy. I left his food in his lap and sat opposite him with my back against the wall.
“This is probably one of the worst hangovers I’ve had in a long time.” He said, grimacing into the paper bag. At least he could form complete words this morning.
“How much do you remember?”
He laughed once. “Not much. I remember calling you, and waiting for you to come get me. I remember when you turned up, but that’s about it. I don’t remember getting home.”
I swallowed thickly. That meant he probably didn’t remember telling me he was in love with me. Or rather, singing it.
“Next thing I’ve woke up in my pants about to vomit.”
“I think you were the most drunk I’ve ever seen you.”
He paused before he took a bite out of his fillet burger. “Really?”
“Hands down. You fell over nearly three times. And you wouldn’t let me go home.”
“Oh, I’m not surprised by that. I’m a very clingy drunk.”
“I was aware of that before last night.” I muttered. “Who were you with?”
“Tom and Tyler.”
“Ah, one of those evenings, was it?
“Yeah, didn’t expect it to be quite that bad, though. Was only going for one.”
“That’s how they all start.”
“Mm, I should know better.”
“Yes you should.”
He laughed around his mouthful and then swallowed it. “This was a good call, thank you.”
“No problem. Although I have to say I did not expect to watch you eat it on the bathroom floor.”
“I know. Feel like a uni student.”
“I don’t think uni students have bathrooms this big.”
He smiled, but didn’t say anything while his mouth was full. “Think I’m gonna have a shower, if you don’t mind?”
I shrugged. “Your house.”
“Right.” He rolled his eyes in jest. “Will you hang around a bit while I do?”
“Sure. I’ll put some coffee on.”
“Cool.” He grinned. 
He shoved the empty box into the paper bag and screwed it up. I took the rubbish off him once we were standing again and left him alone to shower.
I did as I said I would and made him a coffee, and then helped myself to a glass of water and an apple out of the fruit bowl on his counter. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen now. He seemed to be behaving normally, so I was certain he’d forgotten his admission, but that worried me because I was now going to have to admit that I knew. And I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt.
When Harry did reappear he was fully clothed and looked a lot fresher than he had done before. His hair was damp but beginning to curl and his complexion had a bit more life to it.
“Feel better?”
“Loads better, thank you.”
“That’s good.” I said with a pressed smile. I pushed his coffee towards him.
“Cheers. Where’s yours?” He asked with a subtle frown as he took a sip out of his mug. He made an approving sound. “That’s good.”
“You know, I don’t actually like coffee.”
His frown deepened. “You have coffee all the time.”
“No, I have a mocha.”
“That’s still got coffee in it.”
“Yes, but the hot chocolate kind of makes it a fake coffee. A coffee for people who don’t like coffee.”
“Right.” He chuckled. “I had a thought upstairs just now… why aren’t you at work?”
“Because I barely slept.”
He looked concerned. “You better not have stayed really late because of me. Should’ve kicked me in the crotch and told me to get over myself.”
“Oh believe me, I tried to leave you here to go to bed, H. But I actually got back at an acceptable hour, that wasn’t the problem.”
“Just a bad night?”
I hummed. “No, I still blame you.”
“Why?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter side.
I looked at the kitchen top and pursed my lips. “You… you told me something that gave me a lot to think about.”
“I didn’t give you some rubbish music samples, did I?”
I snorted. “I wish. Might’ve helped me sleep.”
“What then? I can’t remember anything.”
After a charged silence, I let out a long sigh. “You told me you love me. You said you love me, and then gave this little speech about missing me. And not just as friends - you said like The 1975’s song, I’m in love with you. But you sang that part, and then immediately fell asleep.”
When I met Harry’s gaze again he was staring at me, and biting his cheek. Neither of us said anything for a while. I was hoping he’d say something. Or perhaps me repeating what he said last night meant he felt like he didn’t need to say anymore.
I cocked my head. “Did you mean it?”
He stood taller, inhaling as his gaze became glassy. “Yeah. Yeah of course I did. Well, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, obviously. But I meant it, although I didn’t mean to tell you in that way… you know, while utterly shit faced.”
“You were completely shit faced.”
“Yeah… no, that’s not how I planned on telling you.”
“Was there a different plan?”
“Maybe…” He turned his nose up and scratched the back of his head. “If I told you what it was you’d hate it-,”
“You don’t know that.” I retorted.
He raised a judgemental brow at me. “Er, yes I do.”
I laughed and put my head on the table. “Whatever.”
“Anyway,” he huffed, but it had a lightheartedness to it, “of course I fucking meant it. Been living with it for ages - it’s all had time to brew. Aged like a fine wine.”
I started laughing, and then I felt his arms wrap around my chest. I was pulled up by him to stand straighter, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His back was against my front and it felt quite nice. I don’t think we’d ever stood like that before.
“Your love has aged like a fine wine?”
“Sounds right cheap when you say it like that.” 
“You said it. That is literally what you said.” I was still laughing.
“I know.” He whimpered.
I twisted my head to look at him, but he’d hidden his face. “You’re gonna have to bear with me.”
“In what way?”
“Well, this is a lot for me. I’m still… processing it, and I don’t know how I feel. You’re my friend and I love you, of course I do. Just…”
“Not in love with me yet.” He concluded.
“Yet.” I sniggered.
“I’ll remain optimistic, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
He giggled, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Take your time. Preferably not forever though, ‘cause… the biological clock is ticking.”
I snorted again. “Reel it in.”
“Sorry.” He hummed and squeezed my shoulders tightly. “I am going to have a movie day on the sofa. Do you want to stay?”
“For that I do, fuck yeah.”
“Sweet… go and make yourself comfy. I’ll get the snacks.”
He bumped my hip with his when I passed him so I kicked him back. He gave a childish laugh, and I shook my head at him, but I found as I wandered into his overcompensating living room that I had this giddy feeling in my stomach I’d never felt with him before.
What was I, the most stubborn woman on Earth, going to do?
~
“What d’you want, H?”
“Not a very charming greeting.” He groused.
I pouted. “You’re interrupting my bath time.”
“Is there some space left in the bathtub?”
I smirked and sank lower into the water. “For you? Never.”
“Hey!”
“Always,” I laughed around my correction, “I meant always.”
“That’s more like it.” He chuckled. “I was calling because I think it might be my turn to get dinner. So what do you fancy?”
“Well, you, obviously.”
“Obviously.” His matter-of-fact tone matched mine. I could imagine him nodding his head. “How about a chippy?”
“Oh, fuck yeah. My usual please.”
“Curry sauce too?”
“Wouldn’t be my usual without it.”
“Just checking. So, I will be knocking on your door within the next hour. Make the most of that bath ‘cause I’m coming.”
“Cool. See you in a bit.”
“Bye-bye.”
“Love you!” I shouted before he could put the phone down.
He was quiet for a minute. “Blimey. Don’t need to shout it, darlin’.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Just in case you forgot.”
“I could never. But I love you more. See you shortly.”
“Okay, bye-bye. Love you most.”
“No!” He shouted, but I cut him off before he could refute it more.
I felt smug. I let out a satisfied sigh and laid my head back against the edge of the tub. 
I had taken my time in coming around to Harry’s admission, but he was incredibly patient with me and I was always grateful for that. It had been little over a year since his little bender, and I felt really good about everything. We felt really good about everything.
Our relationship seemed to only be moving up at a pace we were both happy with, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. All we had to do was keep it that way, and I had every confidence we could.
~~~
If you read this far, thank you <3
Come Talk To Me
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hueningshaped · 1 year
Text
★ close to you | k.kh
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▰ genre: fluff and some angst if you squint aka it gets a little sad but overall it’s fluffy
▰ word count: 1.9k
▰ synopsis: you aren’t aware you’re in love with your best friend, kai and everyone knows it but you (does kai know? stay tuned!) ft. taehyun
a/n: saw huening sleeping in to do ep #54 and boom. word vomit. sorry for being ia :( i’ve just been so disgustingly busy with school and work i could (and have many many times) cry/ed about it! also sincerest apologies to those who requested and still have received nothing. i’m scum for not having followed through with that ^^ i’ll keep doing my best to accomplish that for u ~ ty for taking the time to read this or anything i ever post. you’re amazing!
You toss and turn restlessly, thoughts on hyperdrive, senses filled and quite honestly overstimulated as you lay beside your best friend, who is fast asleep. Kai twitches a little, comforter bunched up around his chest and he smacks his lips, nose wriggling. You sigh a little under your breath and squeeze your eyes shut, body tense as if you’re doing military training.
The hum of the fridge can be heard all the way in yours and his room, even so the faint acoustics coming from Beomgyu’s nightly routine of needing music to sleep every night; the mechanical life reminds you that you aren’t alone. What does remind you that you’re the only one awake is the lack of organic noise.
It makes sense; why would anyone else stay awake, especially when practice was a bit grueling than anticipated? Their words, not yours.
In the back of your mind, you wonder if Soobin is still up, remembering how he enjoys staying up if he’s watching a drama or playing games, but he’d been the first one to head to bed, so honestly the chances for him to be up were fairly unlikely.
You’re brought back to reality because Kai turns towards you with two little jumps. Every time he exhales, his nose whistles, and you’re doing everything within your power not to turn over and look at him in all his cuteness.
But, you can’t resist; his arm is curled into his chest and he sleeps with a faint smile, his little spider plushie beside his head blends in with the dark of his hair. It seems all so serene and easy: air, noise, sleep, everything — but, you’re sweating so much even if the air con is already on. (Kai knows you sleep better this way.)
Your heart feels as if it’s been plugged into every artery like a speaker, and the bass of your bpm is pulsating and loud. It is unfettered, second to the noise pollution going on in your mind.
Nothing has changed, that’s what makes you think this whole situation is ludicrous. Nothing has happened recently. Every day has been the same. Well, life is still overwhelming at times, but that’s besides this new feeling. It’s additional.
It’s new.
You and Kai Kamal Huening have a history of deep friendship that goes way, way back. These years have involved sleepovers, trips to the store that involve either roaming and buying nothing or buying nearly everything, good food, laughter, and happy memories. It is easily the only thing you’ve ever done right — being his best friend. So, why in God’s name is he affecting you in such an unprecedented way?
It didn’t start out of nowhere, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly if you tried.
When he laughed and threw his head back, especially at something stupid you said, he made it seem like the most revered thing in the world, and it wasn’t fair because you said a lot of stupid things.
When he felt too shy, sometimes he’d stand behind you and tuck his face into your neck absentmindedly, which is something he has always done, but lately, it made you sweaty and your stomach feel funny.
He has this one smile, you noticed, where his face angles down a bit and he smiles sweetly, that sweet, gentle expression bleeding into his eyes. It’s bashful almost, and sometimes he giggles. He’s been doing that for years, so you haven’t a clue as to why suddenly it was like he did that for the first time and suddenly, he was the most beautiful person to ever exist in humanity.
In the back of your mind, you’ve always thought of your Hyuka as the most beautiful person ever, but every time you think of him now, as of lately, that reminder just can’t seem to go away. It haunts you. His image is inked into infinity on the inside of your eyelids. He’s all you ever think about.
It’s strange.
Besides, all these things you’ve been taking note of, it’s the effect it has been taking on your body. Today, for instance, while you were in your hour long break between your classes at uni, and Huening was at his own work, he texted you lots and begged you to facetime, so you could play a game together.
This wasn’t new, but the invitation suddenly made you flustered, not to mention that you and he had already scheduled a movie night and dinner along with a sleepover.
So, this innocent little request made you panic over what you looked like, which was odd, considering not once did you ever really think about that in the presence of your best friend. He just made you feel that comfortable.
from: you
idk about facetiming, hyuka…….
from: molang
what do u mean ‘idk’ 🥺
from: molang
are u ok? whats going on?
from: molang
i love u <333
/You nearly saw stars with that one — as if he didn’t have a habit of telling you he loved you every night./
from: you
no haha sorry i just had to find a study room so we could chat sorry haha sorry
from: you
love u too though 🫶🥺
Even through text, the amount of stupidity beat off you in waves.
It was hard to come up with any excuse that didn’t fall along the truth, which was that you felt a little self conscious showing your face.
Of course, you obliged, but you did just about everything you could that could prevent making eye contact with him. He didn’t point it out, but that didn’t mean he didn’t notice.
When it came time to hanging out, you were buzzing with sweats and an adrenaline you couldn’t place an epicenter to. Whenever you went to the dorms, you and Kai just chilled beside each other either in his and Taehyun’s room, or in the living room: sometimes watching Tiktoks, cartoons, and sometimes, you just chose to watch the other guys all play a game. Everyone would help out once everyone got hungry, so that also kept you busy.
Today, you were in the room since everyone else was in the middle of a cleaning mood. Kai had insisted you stop by nonetheless; Taehyun had previously done his duties, so you spent some quiet reading time with him.
“You don’t have to hold your breath every time you’re with him, you know?” Taehyun had randomly spoken up in the midst of the quiet—muffled vacuum noises, shouts, mop sloshing this way and that, all in the background behind the closed door.
“Huh?” You blinked up at him, having cooled down completely from the brief cuddling session earlier with Kai.
“I’m just saying to relax. There’s no need to worry when it comes to Hyuka.” Taehyun ended his statement with a little sigh, eyes dropping back to his book.
“Oh, alright.” You said just to let him know you heard him, even though you had no idea why he said that. Taehyun is an observant genius, but you were too lazy (and a little afraid) to ask him what he meant by that. Of course, you didn’t have to worry about your best friend.
The rest of the night played out how it typically went, so nothing was new.
Yet, here you are: still awake and unable to relax, unlike how Taehyun had said earlier.
Taehyun himself is fast asleep, like your friend who is curled up nearly into your side, except that he is engulfed in darkness—considering you and Kai sleep in front of the window. Moonlight bleeds in through the partially open blinds, and it drapes over you two.
It bathes Kai in a light that illuminates his beauty, despite the dark of the night. His chest rises and falls, breaths tumbling out between his beautiful lips gently.
He’s so gentle. So soft. So sweet. So fragrant. Evergreen if he were a tree, but maybe if he were a flower, he’d be a lily of the valley.
Your heart is quaking in your chest as your hand takes aim to your best friend’s shoulder, pushing lightly but in quick patterns, a rhythm enough to wake him, which is your intention.
“Kai?” You shake him and all it does is move him a little, beautiful face still serene and loose. Since when did he get so enamoring? “Huening? H…Hyuka?”
“Hey, Kai, wake up…” He gets jostled a little more, your hand now in a loose fist around the hem of his sleeve. Distantly, your guilt of possibly waking Taehyun slows you down, but at this moment, Kai’s eyes flutter open like a princess, lids heavy as they blink and take you in.
He hums and blinks some more, adjusting to everything from his deep slumber. You feel so guilty your stomach hurts.
“Y/N? Hm?” His voice comes out loudly, but you slap a palm over his mouth, shushing him just as loudly as he’d spoken. The warmth of his breath on your hand makes you sweat a little. Once he sobers a little, his smile makes you drop your hand and as if he knew, he catches it, wrapping around your fingers.
“Sorry,” he chuckles quietly before looking back at you from his position on the bed, whereas you lean on an elbow to gaze down. Kai reaches and takes his other hand to run through your hair, from the furthest to the nearest point of your face. Your cheeks heat up further. “What is it?”
You blink at him, suddenly unsure of why you had even rudely woken him up from his slumber.
“Is everything okay?” He asks softly, starry eyes mirroring his voice.
“Oh, yeah, I’m okay, I just—“
“You can’t sleep?” Kai asks in a hushed tone. He still has your hand in his. You nod.
It’s all coming together in the back of your mind: why you can’t sleep, eat, behave the way you always have, the way you have before you knew the truth—and you don’t want to think about it. Moments like this and everything between you two, which has been the best thing in your tiny, crummy life: you wouldn’t jeopardize it, even for something as silly as your feelings.
You nod, and his smile elongates.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes and your mouth is starting to curve into a frown. He intertwines your fingers now. “How about we watch some anime? Does that sound good?”
Your chest fills with something unfamiliar but somehow it’s a feeling you’ve always known.
You want to cry.
“That sounds great.” You whisper and come back down. This time, you lean your head on his shoulder, body facing into him.
“Let’s use headphones, so we don’t disturb Taehyun hyung,” he reaches a hand to grab at his desired items. “We can watch Cardcaptor Sakura.”
You say nothing the rest of the night, trying to savor this moment of peace, in the dead of the night, of serenity, and do your best to fall into the beat of his heart that beats against your ear in a loving measure. He hands you an earpod, to which he uses the other, and his screen glows with cherry blossom trees and sunshine.
You’re pathetically in love with Kai Kamal Huening.
You pray that this revelation stays in your mind, keeping you friends, keeping you here with him peacefully and happily for a lifetime—totally unbeknownst to the reality of your best friend already sharing those same feelings for you.
Kai smiles to himself once your body sinks fully into the mattress and into him.
It’s a shame, he thinks to himself. Smitten. He’s known it all along. He’ll wait for you to catch up; he’d wait as long as it takes.
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