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oliviajdjarin · 1 year

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Joel Miller: Birthday Boy

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Excerpt: He was so golden, so smooth yet smothered in moles that you’d kissed and purple marks from your teeth. So perfect. So yours. Your lips parted, craving the taste of his skin once again. You recalled his statement from the night before.

“Wake me up with your mouth, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “Drown me with it.”

How could you say no to the birthday boy?

You set both coffee mugs on the side table, rubbing your hands together to keep the leftover heat from the steam alive, and slid your way back to the position you were in before. His breaths remained steady and a big part of you just wanted to let him sleep. He never got enough, with money and providing for Sarah always on his mind, and maybe that would be the best thing for him.

Drown me with it.

Maybe not.

Warnings: SMUTTT, oral sex female receiving, joel has a giving kink @ me, mentions of Sarah (RIP), allusions to the end of the world.

A/N: So much Joel Miller content, I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. I hope you enjoy.

2.3k

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

(GIF credit to owner, please let me know if it’s yours)

You awoke to the taste of him still on your tongue—it was practically still drooling down your chin—and the warmth of his naked body draped across your frame. Your eyes were puffed and cloudy and your hips felt yellowed and sore, giving you flashbacks of the night previous.

Open your pretty mouth, darlin’.

Fuckin’ shit, this wet already?

Easy now, we got all night.

Ride me till I’m numb, baby.

You closed your eyes in bliss and whispered to yourself in a sing-song tone, “happy birthday.”

His small snores and hot breaths against your earlobe showed he didn’t hear you. He wasn’t meant to. He was meant to stay asleep—deep asleep—until you decided otherwise.

You were tempted to stay there, in his arms, forever. With his woody-cinnamon scent wrapped around you, his permanent scowl softened into an almost-smile, and his body slack against your own. This was Joel Miller—not the one lessened to a struggling carpenter, a single parent, or a lonely man—this was the whole Joel Miller. The true Joel Miller.

This was your Joel Miller.

You smiled at him, letting your eyes serpentine and circle around him for as long as you could, before pressing the softest kiss to his cheekbone. You barely pressed your lips to the hairs that coated it. You hummed to yourself, unable to prevent that sweet sound of pleasure whenever your lips touched his skin, and slowly started scooting your way out from underneath him. Your body screamed at you to stop, stay awhile, never leave, but you persevered.

He was so out he barely twitched.

You laughed to yourself as you found your footing on the cold, grey-carpeted floor. Your fingers twitched to comb through his hair, map out his body, or reach downwards to the sweet spot of your own at what a vision he was, but you somehow managed to continue on.

A midnight-black Henley of his had been discarded at some point in the night, likely thrown across the room by your own hands, and you threw it over your bare body as well as fresh underwear before making your way down to the kitchen. Joel always joked how your stealth was a wasted talent of yours.

I know who I’d ally with in an apocalypse, Tommy would joke.

Idiots.

You made your way to Joel’s most prized possession—his coffee-maker—and threw in his favorite brand of beans. Despite drinking plain black, he did have a taste for higher quality arabica. He would have never bought it for himself.

“Present number one,” you whispered to yourself as the smooth steaming liquid made its way into his rough coffee cup. It was old, chipped, and on the verge of shattering, yet still his favorite. You wondered what that said about him.

You set his aside and made a small cup of your own—adding plenty of cream and sugar thank you very much—and made your way back up the stairs, taking little sips as you walked. Sarah’s room was still locked shut and it was still plenty dark outside.

Good.

Your toes pressed onto the carpet again as you walked back to your side of the bed, and Joel had not moved an inch. His lower half remained swaddled in blankets, while his upper half…

…fuck.

He was so golden, so smooth yet smothered in moles that you’d kissed and purple marks from your teeth. So perfect. So yours. Your lips parted, craving the taste of his skin once again. You recalled his statement from the night before.

“Wake me up with your mouth, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “Drown me with it.”

How could you say no to the birthday boy?

Drown me with it.

Maybe not.

You leaned forward and breathed in the skin on his neck before placing a faint kiss on his pulse. You then moved to his adam’s apple, kissing up to his chin. He stirred a bit, unconsciously pulling you closer to him, and you kissed around his mouth. You pressed one more kiss to his hairline, his hair soft and ruffled from your own fingers, before he whispered incoherently.

“Hm?” you asked, bringing your mouth inches away from his.

“I said—” but he was interrupted by your lips on his.

You parted them quickly and deeper the kiss, tugging him close to you with your hand on the back of his head, and his large hands molded against your hips. You teased him with your tongue just enough for him to tilt your head back for more, but you pulled away.

“Happy birthday.”

He grinned and worked his right hand up to your face, framing it. “Thank you.”

You smiled brightly before sitting up completely and grabbing both coffees. He sat up with you, making himself comfortable leaning his back on the bed frame, and took the mug you handed him eagerly. He immediately sipped it and hummed, closing his eyes.

“You didn’t,” he whispered, his accent in full force.

“I did,” you whispered back, and sipped your own.

“These beans are over ten bucks.”

“I know,” you responded, and took another long sip. “This is present number one.”

“Number one?” he questioned with a laugh. “How many are there?”

You only smiled back at him, enjoying his questioning look.

The two of you proceeded to sip your coffee in silence—enjoying the slowly rising sun, the birds chirping, the wind blowing, and the creaks and groans of the house. Joel took his time, drinking his coffee slowly instead of chugging it as he ran from the house, and he enjoyed every sip.

Finally, he broke the ice. “Darlin’, since when did you have clothes on?”

You laughed enough to make your eyes crease before saying, “Since I went to make you coffee this morning with the risk of Sarah coming downstairs to use the bathroom.”

He chuckled and took one last sip, finishing his cup completely, and you took the cup from him to place it on the nightstand. He mumbled a quick “thank you” before you did, a grateful look in his eye, but once you turned back around, the chocolate in his caramel eyes had completely taken over. The rising sun illuminated their darkness that much more.

“I don’t think you’re understandin’ me,” he whispered, and the look in his eye suddenly made sense. Arousal rolled over you like a wave, and a smirk made its way to your face.

“Am I not?” you questioned, lowing your voice exactly how he liked it. The ink in his eyes was beginning to drip down to his body language—tense, itching to touch and unravel you.

“You’re not,” he said, and leaned closer, close enough for you to feel his hot breath on the skin of your collarbone. “I want them off.”

He kissed your collarbone and neck, reaching his hand underneath his own fabric to meet his calloused hand with your soft skin, and you smiled. “It’s your birthday. Take what you want.”

You didn’t have time to think before his mouth met your own.

He quickly took the mug still in your hands and leaned over you—mouth still claiming yours—to set it on the nightstand. He then took the opportunity pin you fully to the bed. His tongue fully mapped your mouth now and you whined at his taste—black coffee, morning, and the residue of you. He likely tasted the same thing on you.

“Gotta stay quiet,” he whispered, slipping your shirt completely off. “I do have a model of responsibility to set.”

You laughed into his mouth. “How’s that going?”

He laughed with you and kissed you again, feeling you everywhere. You took the chance to feel him up too, dragging your nails up his chest and over his back, through his hair, and across his scruffed face. His facial hair always tickled at the very least and burned at the very most. This morning, your face felt a bit of both.

He was kissing you so good and your head was so lost in all of it that you almost missed when he mumbled, “Let me try somethin’.”

He pulled away completely to look at you. Your eyes were blissed out, your lips were tingling, and your brain was absolutely reeling. He smiled down at you, likely because of how out of it you looked. “What?”

“Let me try somethin’,” he mumbled again, kissing down your face and to your chest. You closed your eyes and breathed erotically at the feeling of him all over you. Everywhere. “I’ve gotta eat somethin’ after my coffee, don’t I?”

Your eyes widened to saucers. You sat up, putting your weight on your elbows, and met his eyes. He was now hovering over your lower stomach. “Joel, you don’t have—”

“It’s my birthday,” he whispered with a kiss to your midsection. “I want this. I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You and Joel had been together for a while, longer than a while, and the sincerity in your feelings for one another had only grown with each passing day. You had started spending nights at his house, he had started spending nights at yours, and you had met his daughter a few months ago. You had even started spending weekends with Joel and Sarah as a way to get to know her better and test the dynamic which, so far, had been smooth sailing. She had obviously enjoyed your company, even asking you to stay at their house throughout the week. You and Joel were becoming serious, very serious.

And yet, he hadn’t done this for you before. He had offered it before, but you had always wanted to suck him off instead. It seemed that today, he knew what he wanted.

Your pants started getting more infrequent with even the thought of him doing this to you. You wanted it badly. His cocky grin showed you that he knew that too.

“Don’t you want me to take care of you today?”

His grin only expanded. “Do you seriously think I won’t come from this?”

And with that, he pulled your underwear down your body, and began his feast with a hunger. With one lick from his tongue, your goal of keeping eye contact with him shattered, and a long groan escaped from your mouth.

“Quiet baby,” he whispered against your mound. “Quiet,” and he continued.

He mapped you like an expert—memorizing exactly where you whined, honing in on those areas just long enough to make you shake, and just before you found your release, he would move on.

“Fuck you,” you whispered after the second time he did this, sweat dripping down your face and breasts. He chuckled into you and pulled one of your hands off his head to wrap it in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Patience baby. It’s my birthday.”

He continued squeezing your hand as he worked, and you continued biting your tongue until you nearly drew blood.

This was heaven. Heaven on earth. Eternity between your legs. The world could end tomorrow and you wouldn’t care, not after this. Not after him.

It was when he nudged your clit with his nose just so that you felt that familiar ball of flame inside of you begin to oxidize, expanding from a lick of flame to a fire.

“I’m so close Joel please.”

“Jesus woman,” he replied, the noises coming from his mouth on you borderline obscene. “Sound so pretty.”

He kept at it, nudging your clit with his nose and licking you where you needed. It was then that you noticed a small rock to your bed and a consistent creak. You used the last of your strength to pull yourself up, only to be met with Joel’s now hazel eyes, and the lower half of his body fucking hard into the bed.

“Told you I’d come from this,” he whispered, and kissed your clit.

Your fire became unstoppable, and you let yourself fully release into his mouth.

He didn’t stop. Not after you gave him one more.

Finally, he parted from you with one final kiss, and you didn’t even realize your eyes had fallen shut until he kissed both of them. They fluttered open to be met with his smiling face.

He looked so damn happy.

You brought his mouth to yours, tasting yourself mixed with his morning coffee, but he pulled away quickly.

“How was I?”

Your face broke out into a smile so big your teeth showed. “Perfect.”

He pecked your nose. “Good.”

He laid down on his back next to you, panting and exhausted, and you immediately cuddled into him. You threw your leg over his own only to be met with something…sticky?

He came. Purely from sucking you off.

“What’s this, the third time I’ve told ya?” he whispered into your hair. “I did this for you, but I wanted it just as badly.”

You couldn’t help the shock in your voice when he hugged you close. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“I love you Y/N,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”

“I love you Joel,” you whispered back weakly, feeling the exhaustion envelop you once again. “Happy Birthday.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, likely grateful that you had woken him up early enough for him to go back to sleep. You followed him in your failure to sleep, but just before you reached unconsciousness, you felt yourself whisper.

“Don’t think I’m not paying you back for this.”

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

@leahkenobi @aninnai @untitledarea @avengersfan25

#joel #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hbo

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webslinger-holland · 2 months

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The Sergeant's Senator | Chapter 4

Summary: The Senator has spent the last couple weeks locked inside, but now wants nothing more than to go outside. The others need to find a way to get her outside without being spotted or recognized.

Warning: mention of the shooter, vial of blood is alluded to, characters have slight anxiety, mutual pining, suggestive talk, weaponry mentioned (not used)

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

The day following the attack was spent talking to The Coruscant Security Force. They had come to the apartment to investigate the destruction, opening a brand new case file against the shooter. While some officers were snapping photographs of the scene, the other ones were questioning the people who witnessed the attack.

In the meantime, Crosshair made sure to keep a close eye out the window with his sniper in hand. His eyes scanned the city skyline thoroughly. By the couches, Senator Rayna and Hunter gave their statements to an officer. The man took notes on a pad of paper.

"And where you able to get a good look at the shooter? Maybe what they were wearing," the officer suggested.

"No, we didn't get a good look. It was quite dark out and we went in the best position to look at them," Hunter explained. Even with his heightened senses, Hunter wasn't able to get a great look before he fired his shot.

Just then, Tech came to approach the small group. He held his data pad in one hand and a small vial of blood in the other. He passed the vial to the officer.

"This might be of some assistance to you," Tech told the officer. "It was found on the rooftop where the shooter was located. That is their blood."

The officer went to open his mouth to question how he managed to get a sample of the shooter's blood, but the technical clone beat him to talking by saying:

"You should be able to run a DNA diagnosis test to pinpoint who it is exactly. Then you can release a warrant for his arrest," Tech explained to the officer as if he didn't know how to do his job. He typed away at his data pad.

The senator was forced to stuff her lips into her mouth in hopes of stifling a small laugh. She glanced up at the sergeant who gave her a shrug and a look that said: "That's Tech for you."

"R-Right. We'll get right on that and get back to you once the results are in," the officer stammered over his words. "We should have this place cleaned up in a few days. I presume you have a place to stay?"

"She does," Hunter interjected before Y/n could speak for herself. He left it at that, not wishing to disclose where the senator was staying just in case unwanted ears were listening.

The officer gave a firm nod of the head, showing them appreciation for their willingness to answer their questions. "Thank you for your time."

Over the next couple weeks, Senator Rayna was fully immersed in her work back at the office. Her schedule consisted of attending meetings, writing her speech, and sitting in on what was happening at the senate. All the while, the Bad Batch escorted her to every function. They kept a close eye on her while being fully aware of the dangers that could accompany them.

It had been many weeks since the attack at the high-rise, which was now the longest amount of time between attacks. Something was not right. His suspicious grew with each passing day. That only made him want to take extra precautions when accompanying the senator out.

"I don't like it," Hunter grumbled more to himself. He paced back and forth across the office.

The senator spared him a quick glance before returning her attention to the papers in front of her. "Stop pacing," Senator Rayna spoke from behind her paper.

"It's been weeks and nothing. We haven't heard a thing from this guy," Hunter complained. He raised his hand to gesture out the window.

"Well, I am most certainly thankful for that. You're not the one who's a target here," Senator Rayna stated. He slumped down into a chair facing her desk. He fidgeted with his fingers nervously; his eyes darting around the room.

"He's gonna strike. I just know it," Hunter claimed.

"Hunter," Y/n spoke softly. "I think you're a little paranoid."

"And you're not?" Hunter inquired, glancing at her.

"Not anymore," Y/n confessed with a soft smile on her face. He stared directly at her with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I have you," Y/n explained. She felt herself getting lost in those dark brown eyes of his. She quickly snapped out of it and redirected her gaze away from him. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "A-And your brothers looking out for me," Y/n added.

The senator pretended to go back to her work, but she was secretly thinking about the sergeant in front of her. She tried so hard to push those thoughts away, knowing that it wasn't right to be pining after and crushing over her sergeant who was assigned to protect her. It wasn't like he could reciprocate the feelings; he was a clone after all and they were programmed to not meddle in those matters.

Despite the looks, Hunter wasn't void of all emotions. In fact, as of recently, Hunter discovered that he was shifting towards having a more domesticated heart. His thoughts wandered back to his friend named Cut who was a deserter clone settled on Saleucami. He had gone so far as to marry a Twi'lek named Suu and have two children together.

The difference between Hunter and Cut were their priorities in life. While Cut found purpose in providing for his family, Hunter was still a soldier for the Republic and served in the war. Now, Hunter envied the life Cut made for himself and wished that someday after the war, he'd be able to seek the same kind of life for himself.

However, despite this optimist approach that the war would end, there was still a matter at hand. Once the war ended, Hunter may be free to chose a life for himself, but Y/n would not be. She'd still be a senator, sitting through meetings and making grand speeches. She herself would be working hard to make the galaxy a better place. That was something that Hunter would never be able to pull her away from. It was her purpose.

Which was why, for the past few months, Hunter tried to distance himself from the senator emotionally. He still needed to be in close proximity to her in order to keep her safe, but he simply wouldn't allow himself to become too attached. One day, they'd have to go their separate ways and that would be the end of it.

This was a tricky task for him. His head screamed to stop, but his heart pleaded to try. Once the senator returned to her apartment after it was fully restored, Hunter found it incredibly difficult to stay away from his bed aboard the Marauder. His once undisturbed bed now smelled so strongly of lavender that it drove his senses wild.

More often than not, Hunter came to discover how she was constantly invading his senses. Whether the senator wore a particularly flattering dress or gingerly touched his arm, it drove him wild. He tried wearing his helmet more, igniting the feature that blocked out those senses for his own sake.

But right now, sitting in her company, Hunter wasn't wearing his helmet. He stared at her longingly, admiring the way a few baby hairs fell around her face. He also seemed to catch the soft pink tone on her cheeks, but she quickly shielded her face from him behind a piece of paper. The gentle flutter of her heartbeat did not go unnoticed either.

Just then, the door to the office slid open to reveal the other four members of the squad. They had just come back from grabbing lunch in the cafeteria downstairs. They figured, given the quietness over the past couple weeks, that they could afford sneaking down for quick bite to eat. But that had been an hour ago.

"Took you long enough," Hunter huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly unamused by their prolonged absence.

"That's because Wrecker kept going back for more food," Echo scoffed.

"It never ends," Wrecker exclaimed with a bright smile on his face. He came around the side of the chair. "They let you take as much food as you want. I haven't been this full in a long time."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Y/n smiled at him.

"So," Wrecker clasped his hands together rather loudly. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Nothing," Tech and Y/n replied simultaneously.

"Her schedule is empty," Tech spoke. His nose was buried deep into his data pad.

"No meetings? No speeches?" Wrecker questioned. He seemed rather confused as he felt there was almost always something the senator had to do. But it was only two hours past noon.

"Not really," Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "I initially planned to spend the whole day finishing writing my speech, but now, I'd like to do something else."

"What did you have in mind?" Hunter inquired curiously.

When the senator saw all eyes on her, she felt her nerves go uneasy. She twiddled with the pen in her hands, thinking about what she was about to say. She didn't know if it was such a good idea after all.

"I-I'd like to go out," Y/n confessed timidly.

The room remained silent for a moment. The senator glanced between each of the clones in attempts to read their expressions and predict who was going to speak up first. Sure enough, the sarge was the first one to speak for his brothers. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Out?" Hunter clarified.

"Your speech is in two days," Tech pointed out.

"Shouldn't you prioritize that?" Echo questioned.

"I haven't been able to properly go outside for weeks," Y/n ignored them. She threw her hands up in defeat, resting against the back of her chair. "The most fresh air I get is going between here and my place."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to go out in public? With everything going on?" Echo chimed in.

"Not to mention the fact that you have easily one of the most recognizable faces on Coruscant," Tech pointed out.

"I'd wear a disguise," Y/n replied.

"Really? A disguise," Hunter held back a laugh.

"Believe it or not: I do own civvy clothes," Y/n reassured them.

"I'd pay to see that," Wrecker laughed. He rather forcefully nudged Crosshair who was standing right beside him, but he just shook his head in annoyance.

Trying to ignore his brother's comment, Hunter found himself leaning forward in the seat. He came up with a hypothetical situation. "Say we do go out, what would you even want to do?" Hunter asked her.

"Anything," Y/n sighed. "Just get me out of this office."

For a moment, Hunter contemplated the choice to leave. He averted his gaze to ponder some more. He found feel his brothers gazing at him expectingly, which made him realize just how much they too wanted to get out. The risk was almost too high given that she had a massive target painted on her back.

Sensing how he was leaning more towards a negative response, the senator quickly rose to her feet and rounded the side of her desk. She knelt down on the floor right beside his chair. She placed a hand on his forearm which drew his attention towards it. Her eyes were pleading, begging for a little freedom.

"Twenty credits says he caves," Crosshair said discreetly to his twin standing right beside him.

Before Tech was able to accept the challenge, Wrecker spoke up quietly. "You're on."

To which Tech rolled his eyes. He went back to his data pad.

"Please sarge," Y/n urged. Her other hand went up to trace his fingers gently, coaxing him to watch her intently. She drew small shapes on his palm. Her eyes flickered up to him. "Just for a little while?"

Finally, Hunter began to withdraw his hand away from her in a slow manner. He flexed his hand once or twice to get rid of the feeling of her fingers having just graced him. He refused to look at her.

"Fine," Hunter sighed heavily.

A bright smile grew across her lips. She thought about throwing her arms around him for an embrace, but she figured that she may be overstepping if she did so. Instead, Y/n stood to her feet from her spot. She could barely contain her excitement.

In the background, Wrecker and Tech went to place their twenty credits into Crosshair's expecting hand. Both of them looking rather solemn, but the third was rather pleased with his new change. He pocketed the credits into a pouch.

Before Y/n was able to turn away, Hunter reached out to grab her wrist. The excitement was quickly disappeared from her face. Now she wondered if he'd changed his mind. She went to look down at him, fearful of what he was about to say.

Under his fingers, Hunter felt her pulse growing faster on her wrist and he could hear the thumping of her heart. He wasn't sure if it was anxiety or excitement coming from her. But he spoke to her to get his point across.

"But if we are doing this, you are gonna do things my way," Hunter's sulky voice ordered. His eyes flickered up to meet hers in a stern glare. "You got that?"

"Yes sir," Y/n gulped.

Upon hearing this, Hunter instinctively tightened his grip on her wrist without realizing it. It drew a small gasp out of her lips which only spurred him on more. Now satisfied with her answer, Hunter began to release his grip on her. He gestured to the side as if to encourage her to keep moving.

As the senator walked away, Hunter redirected his line of attention to his band of brothers standing on the sidelines. He had already come up with a plan to execute this outing.

"Go back to the Marauder," Hunter spoke to the muscles of the group. "We are going to need the old crate."

A few minutes later, Wrecker had returned to the office carrying a massive crate in his hands. He brought it to the center of the room and dropped it on the floor, which resulted in a loud thump. Opening the lid of the crate, Tech began digging through the various items within it. He was searching for something in particular.

Without glancing up, Tech grabbed something black and handed it to Hunter. He strode across the room towards the senator, offering the odd black material to her. She furrowed her eyebrows upon further inspection.

"What is this?" Y/n inquired. She gingerly took hold of the material.

"We call them blacks," Hunter stated.

"And what am I supposed to do with it?"

"Take off your clothes," Hunter explained. Her eyes snapped up to his face, showing the evident look of surprise in her eyes. He finished what he was saying: "And put these on."

Silently, Senator Rayna nodded her head understandingly. She went towards the restroom on the other side of the room, stepping inside and closing the door behind her for privacy.

With Hunter's eyes still locked on the door, Crosshair approached his side. His eyes followed the line of his brother's. He adjusted the toothpick in the corner of his mouth.

"Didn't take you for the flirting type," Crosshair noted. His voice sounded like it was poison in the brother's ear; like it was laced with ill intent.

"I'm not," Hunter spoke firmly without taking his eyes off the door. "Just telling her what to do."

"You're a horrible liar," Crosshair scoffed with a shake of the head. He proceeded to turn away from him and return to his other brothers side by the crate.

Just a moment later, the door creaked open ever so slightly, but it successfully drew the attention of all the clones. They looked up to watch the young senator emerge from the private space. Their eyebrows shot up in slight surprise once she finally stepped into their view.

The blacks were designed to fit any body shape, which meant that the material naturally looked small before one put it on. It was truly a "one size fits all" type of clothing. And boy, did it show.

It fit her body like a black glove. The black material hugged her figure so tightly that it showed every single curve of her body. While to some, it may look incredibly uncomfortable, it was actually one of the softest materials available in the galaxy. It was lightweight, versatile, and rather cheap. Every soldier for the Republic wore blacks under their armor.

Breaking the silence, Wrecker let out a wolf whistle which only brought a swift nudge in the side from Echo. She avoided their gazes expertly, keeping her eyes on the ground. She shuffled across the small stretch, bringing her arms to cross against her chest.

"I-It feels odd wearing just this," Y/n said honestly.

"You'll get used to it," Hunter reassured her, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Found it!" Tech exclaimed from behind them. The rest of them redirected their attention towards him.

Finally, Tech retrieved a single piece of black armor from the crate. It was a clone chest piece. He held it up for further examination. However, Senator Rayna only furrowed her eyebrows in slight confusion once again. She had no idea what he was doing with a piece of armor.

"This will do nicely," Tech stated with a nod. He rounded the side of the crate to offer the chest piece to the senator.

But she initially didn't take it from him, which meant he'd need to explain his motives to her.

"I have taken the liberty of riffling through our old armor crate. Given your physique, I have selected one of Echo's old chest pieces." Tech pushed the chest plate into her hands.

"You want to me put this on?" Y/n questioned.

"That's the plan," Hunter interjected.

"So I look like a clone?"

"So you have protection," Hunter corrected. He raised a single finger to emphasis his words. "Along with a disguise."

"I won't fit in this," Y/n exclaimed. She tried holding up the chest plate to look at it closer, but it was incredibly heavy.

"Which is why I provided you with Echo's piece. He's the smallest," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"Hey," Echo chimed in, taking offense.

Before the senator was able to protest, Hunter had already taken the chest plate out of her hands and was fitting it over her head. She slipped her arms through the holes on the side. He moved the piece of armor around until it was comfortable resting on her chest.

In the meantime, Tech and Echo began to bring the other pieces over for assembly. They handed each piece to the sergeant who knew exactly where they went on the body. The senator was beginning to feel the armor's weight as the pauldrons were attached to her shoulders.

"It feels quite heavy," Y/n realized.

"That is because it is katarn-class armor, which is much more stronger and more resilient than your typical plastoid clone armor. It will weight approximately 45 pounds once put together," Tech explained as he fitted a spare piece to her side.

"Is this really necessary?" Y/n wondered. She raised her arms upwards as the belt was attached across her waist.

"Provided that this may save your life by deflecting a blaster shot, then yes, I would say it's necessary." Tech shrugged.

"Hunter," Echo redirected. He quickly tossed him another piece from the crate, which he caught without looking.

While distracted by Tech's rambling, she didn't even notice the hands that grabbed her hips and directed her body to turn. She shuffled on her feet until she was fully facing the sergeant. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, getting on his knees in front of her.

For some unknown reason, Y/n felt something ignite within the pit of her stomach at the sight of him on his knees in front of her. She felt his fingers encircle around her ankle, silently encouraging her to lift it up. He fitted the thigh gauntlet through her foot, sliding it up the long length of her leg.

His fingers brushed against the inside of her thigh, which pulled the smallest gasp out of her. The sergeant couldn't contain the sly smirk from tugging at the corners of his lips. He felt her eyes burning into the top of his head, documenting his every move. He secured the piece as tightly as possible before glancing up at her.

She could have sworn she saw his eyes darken.

"Don't give me that look," Y/n begged quietly. She tore her gaze away from the sergeant's captivating eyes in hopes of hiding her blush. She tried to balance on one foot.

"What look?" Hunter teased.

"You know what I am talking about," Y/n insisted with a playful roll of the eyes. He chuckled deeply to himself.

Now moving, Tech shifted in his stance beside her which resulted in her loosing her balance slightly. She stumbled to the side, but she placed her hand on the sergeant's shoulder for better balance. Her hand was desperately close to his neck; so much close that she felt the strands of hair tickling her fingers.

For the time being, Hunter needed to push those feelings down once again. He fought the desire to feel her fingers threaded through his hair and tugging at his locks. He felt a slight flutter in the pit of his stomach, feeling the blood flow shifting south.

A heavy lump in his throat was forming as one of her fingers delicately brushed against the side of his neck where his pulse would be.

Through distractions, Hunter focused on finishing the task at hand. He secured one of the knee pads before moving onto fitting the boot onto her foot. After this, he began working on the other leg, helping her get into each respectable piece until she started to look like a clone trooper.

Upon completion, Hunter began to rise to his feet. He let out a small groan when he felt his knees popping, but he ignored the aching pain. He stood at his full height, towering over her. He held up the final piece into view.

"I'm not wearing that," Y/n stated with the most unamused look on her face.

"It's a codpiece," Hunter explained.

"I know what it is. I am not putting it on," Y/n said with a shake of the head.

"You won't pass as a clone if you're not wearing it," Hunter argued. This wasn’t convincing enough for her. "It would look even weirder if you weren't wearing it."

"He's right," Tech's unwanted opinion came out of nowhere.

"Fine," Y/n grumbled in slight defeat. She stopped him before he could go down on his knees again. She took the codpiece out of his grasp. "But I'll put it on myself."

"As you wish," Hunter gave up easily with hands raised in defense.

Fitting the final piece, Y/n put her hands out to show off her new black clone armor She looked at each of the clones for their thoughts about how she appeared. She most certainly could pass for a clone with the exception of the missing helmet.

"Woah! You look just like us," Wrecker exclaimed with a broad smile on his face.

"That's kinda the point," Crosshair mumbled beside him.

"Not without this," Echo jumped in. He tossed a spare helmet over to her, which she caught awkwardly. She surveyed the helmet, staring down where the eyepiece was.

"Who's helmet is this? Another one of Echo's pieces?" Y/n wondered.

"It's actually one of my old ones," Hunter confessed. He scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh," Y/n nodded. She now saw the resemblance between his old and new helmet. "I see."

Stepping forward, Hunter took the helmet out of her hands. He turned the helmet around and raised it above her head. He lowered it onto her until her face disappeared behind it. He kept his hands on the sides.

"This okay?" Hunter asked.

"Yeah," Y/n's voice came through the modulator. He slowly removed his hands from the helmet, but her gaze remained on him. "Thanks," Y/n spoke softly.

Putting distance between them, Hunter went back to his brothers' side. He rifled through the craft one final time, looking for an old holster for a blaster. He pulled out a regular black one before handing it over to Tech.

"This is the final piece," Tech explained to her. He fitted the belt around her waist so that the holster fell over the side of her thigh.

"A holster?" Y/n questioned.

"For your blaster," Tech said while briefly glancing up at her.

"I don't carry a blaster," Y/n informed him.

"It's just for today. It's all for looks. You won't have to use it," Hunter chimed in. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Next, Tech took one of his own spare blasters out of his backpack. He handed the weapon to her for which she held for a second. She examined the weapon carefully, rotating it. She slid it right into the holster at her side, bringing the disguise to completion.

Upon leaving the main building, the Bad Batch began walking down the street and blended into the crowd of citizens. They made sure to keep their eyes open, realizing that an unexpected attack could occur at any given time. Not only was the senator a target, there was also a high chance that the other members that become recognizable targets for the unknown shooter.

Walking through the crowd, Y/n quickly came to realize how little passing people were looking at them. They still got the occasional glances from some, but that was obviously because of their unique clone features.

The senator and sergeant were currently walking a few steps ahead of the small squad. They picked up their own conversation.

"It's weird being unrecognizable to people in public," Y/n whispered to the sergeant striding beside her. She remembered what she was wearing though.

"Clones are everywhere," Hunter explained to her. "We all look the same so people don't need to look twice at something they've already seen."

"Well, not all of you look the same." Though she was wearing a helmet, he was able to hear the smile in her voice.

"Which is often a downside," Hunter stated. "Because then, people look."

"I'm sorry," Y/n spoke with true sincerity in her tone.

"We didn't ask to be made," Hunter replied. "But our differences...we see them as a bit of a perk. Even though they make us outcasts."

The small group had just managed to round the corner of the street, heading in one direction. The others didn't seem the least bit interested in the conversation. Instead, they focused their attention on their surroundings for added precaution.

"What's it like to have heightened senses? I imagine a place as busy as Coruscant is hard to endure," Y/n took note.

"I've...grown accustomed to it," Hunter hinted. It wasn't just Coruscant that he had grown attuned to.

"I'm sure you'll be glad once it's behind you," Y/n breathed a long sigh.

For a moment, Hunter contemplated her choice of words carefully. While she had redirected her attention back towards the sidewalk in front of her, he found himself staring at her profile.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Hunter inquired.

She glanced up at him. "About what?"

"Leaving this place?" He gestured to the grand skyscrapers.

"Well, this is my home. I was born here and I grew up here. I rarely leave unless for business matters." She seemed to shrug her shoulders. "It's a bit like Kamino for you."

The sergeant remained silent.

"Kamino is your home, is it not?" Y/n pressed. She now peered up at him with curious eyes.

"That's where they made us, trained us." Hunter agreed. His voice grew solemn as he spoke truthfully. "But it's not much like a real home. We spend more time on our ship than we do back there."

"If you did settle down--after the war, where would you go?" Y/n shifted the direction of the conversation in attempts of making it more lighthearted. She waited for his answer patiently.

"Never really thought about it," Hunter shrugged. "Never imagined a life outside the war."

"I'm sure it'll end soon," Senator Rayna often spoke with optimism. "For me, if I were to leave the planet, I'd want to go somewhere quiet."

Hunter released a small chuckle at this. "Coruscant too busy for you?"

"Always moving," Y/n insisted upon it. She watched her foot be placed in front of the other. The two of them grew silent for a moment. That was until she spoke up again: "Maybe there'd be a beach."

"You want to live on a beach?" Hunter wondered.

"I've never been to the beach," Senator Rayna corrected him. She spoke with such a dreamy voice as if she was envisioning it now. "I'd just like to relax in the silence and listen to the waves crashing."

"That does sound nice," the sergeant agreed with a small nod of the head.

"You think it's silly."

"I think it's good to have dreams," Hunter altered.

In that exact moment, Hunter felt her arm brush against his own, which made him realize how close they were walking together. They both lowered their gazes to the ground. They seemed to enjoy the silence between them because it wasn't awkward at all.

Unbeknownst to them, the others had been watching their exchange with curious eyes. However, they weren't really able to hear the conversation clearly. They only heard the senator laughing a few times at something he'd said. All this to say that they looked at one another with the same look on their faces. A face that read: "There is something going on between them."

"I'll take you to the beach one day," Hunter offered quietly.

Her head snapped up to look directly at him. "You would?"

The sergeant nodded his head silently in agreement. He promised her: "Just the two of us."

"I'd like that," Y/n confessed sheepishly.

As the two of them walked alongside each other, their shoulders would occasionally brush together. Barely any words were further exchanged between the two, which resulted in a tender silence falling over them. They each felt this giddy bubbly feeling in the pits of their stomachs.

Ever so gently, Hunter felt the back of his hand graze against hers. This happened a handful of other times as they toured the streets of the city. He tried to see her reaction when it happened through the corner of his eye, but she never pulled away from him.

After a while, Hunter gathered the smallest amount of courage to tease the back of her hand with his pinky finger. He was testing the waters, half expecting it to go rather poorly for him. But he once again found that she remained silent and didn't withdraw from him.

Slowly, Hunter curled that single finger to hook around her own. He held it as gently as possible in fear of breaking it. He waited with a sharp breath held in his chest. But she never pulled away.

Feeling contact only ignited a burning flame in the pit of her stomach, resulting in the heat rising to her face. Her heart began to flutter like a hummingbird's wings and her smile only grew wider under her helmet. She wanted nothing more than to link the rest of their fingers together until they were properly holding hands, but she knew she wouldn't be able to.

For now, Y/n would have to be content with this. And she truly was.

By the time evening had come, Senator Rayna was safely back at her own place. She worked on the finishing touches of her speech, changing a few things to her liking. A sound knock came from her bedroom door and she invited them in without thought.

Naturally, Echo had pushed the door open in a silent manner. He was the only one on duty for tonight, which meant he was stationed at her door for the next couple hours. He held a small pile of papers with his good hand.

"These came for you," Echo explained. He stole a quick glance at the paper on the top.

"Bring 'em over," Y/n encouraged with a wave of her hand. He strode across the room, setting the stack of papers down on the desk beside her speech.

"I'll leave you to it," Echo dismissed himself. He knew that she was close to finishing her speech and would prefer to work alone. He walked back to the entrance of her room, shutting the door behind him. His hand lingered on the handle as he tried to process what he had seen on the top of the pile.

Now alone in the room, Y/n's eyes had shifted to the small stack on her right side. The paper on the top of the pile had red ink that indicated where it came from and it's utmost importance. It was an application form which came from the Coruscant Guard.

The Coruscant Guard had sent this to inform her of available troopers in their rank. This was something that they were unable to offer her a couple weeks ago when she really needed the escort. Now, things had changed.

The only thing she'd need to do was fill out the application for a new escort. The Coruscant Guard would take the time to process her application, eventually sending a new set of guards to accompany her like they had beforehand.

An issue arose with this. If the senator were to receive new guards, that meant her current escort would be transferred. They'd return to the front lines, heading back to the war. She contemplated her next step.

At first, Senator Rayna thought about the small squad that had grown on her the past couple weeks. She figured that they'd probably prefer to return to the war effort. They were much too gifted to be stuck escorting her around the city. Their skills had so much value, guaranteeing success in the war. They'd want her to fill out the application. They could go back to all the action; that's what they liked.

For some unknown reason, Senator Rayna's mindset began to shift into a more selfish one. She told herself how she'd never felt more safe than when this squad was beside her, remembering how the last two guards had been killed protecting her. And she thoroughly enjoyed their company...one more than the rest.

Taking the application in her hands, Y/n made a final decision. She tossed the piece of paper into the drawer of her desk. Without this, the Coruscant Guard wouldn't send a new escort to her aid and the Bad Batch would remain with her in the meantime. This is what she wanted.

CHAPTER FIVE HERE

Taglist:

@justhavingsomefun1 @totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl @mrcaptainrex @whore-of-many-hot-men @graciexmarvel @qweenrogerina @arcsimper5 @queenofspades6 @cadihyo @jediknightjana @elthoughtzos @lokigirlszendaya

This felt like a longer chapter but I did take out one scene where Hunter helps her take off the armor (lot of sexual tension there). Let me know if I should still post the now deleted scene!

#the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper hunter #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x senator #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #the marauder ship #tbb hunter series #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #tbb hunter x fem!reader senator

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lockefanfic · 1 year

Text

Toy - Part 9: Ball Boy

Yoo Jeongyeon was, above all else, a breath of fresh air.

She was so unlike the other eight, and in more ways than one. The others put a lot of thought into their clothes, their makeup, their accessories - Jeongyeon was content simply to roll out of bed and throw on a hoodie and sneakers five minutes before you’d picked her up for her tennis practice. The others were into social media, endorsements from big brands, and what the general public was saying about them in online forums and in the comments - Jeongyeon was more into taking her dogs for walks, volunteering at an animal shelter with her sister, or building lego sets at home.

Moreover, while the others were very much involved in the inter-group rivalry between Nayeon and Chaeyoung - Jeongyeon was more than content to simply watch from afar and let her groupmates battle it out.

“I don’t really have a dog in the fight,” she says, casually, bending to pick up a ball from amongst the dozens on the floor of the private tennis court after you bring up the topic. “Nayeon is one of my best friends, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I think she’s an angel.”

“So knowing what you know about her, it doesn’t swing you over to Chaeyoung’s side?” you ask as you approach her with the bin you were both using to collect the tennis balls. Her tennis instructor had called in sick, and so you’d spent the last couple of hours feeding balls into the automatic serving machine for her to practice her returns.

“No. Like I said, I love Nayeon for who she is. It doesn’t mean I agree with the way she treats Chaeyoung, or for that matter, the way Chaeyoung treats her.”

“Fully neutral, then, huh?”

“Like Switzerland,” she says with a smile and a wink, “unlike you. From those photos it looks like you’re well and truly on Nayeon’s side.”

You sigh as you toss another couple of balls into the bin. The fallout of the leaked photos depicting you and an only half-clothed Nayeon embracing in the hallway of her apartment had been managed relatively well by JYP’s PR department, truth be told. Thankfully none of the photos showed your face, and so JYP staff had put out a statement that you were simply an old family friend who was paying Nayeon a friendly visit. Rumors persisted, but generally it seemed most of the uproar had blown over.

You were fully expecting to be fired from your position as the girls’ pseudo-manager, but it seemed the girls had more than enough pull in the organization to let you keep your job. You wondered if Nayeon or one of the others had stepped in to defend you - you’d have to ask her about it the next time you saw her.

“You know what I was doing there,” you say to Jeongyeon, who has returned to the bin with another armful of tennis balls. She smirks, knowing full well what you meant.

“I’m sure the pussy is great,” she says, nonchalantly. “But you really need to be careful when it comes to getting caught like that. Yes, we’re all women, and yes, women our age are allowed to fuck whoever they want, but given our line of work, we still have to watch out for that kind of thing, you know? It could really hurt our images - and thus our careers.”

“I know. I just think it’s shitty that someone would take those pics with the sole aim of fucking with you girls.”

“Yeah, it’s shitty. I know it’s shitty. The media is shitty, people are shitty. But it comes with the territory.”

“I know. You’re right, Jeongyeon,” you admit. You’d spent little time with Jeongyeon compared to the others, but you’d spent enough time with her to know that she was often the voice of reason in the group. “But in my defense,” you continue, “there was no way I could have known there was paparazzi outside Nayeon and Momo’s apartment, just waiting for the moment to snap a couple of pictures.”

“That’s true,” she replies with a frown. “How did they even get into the building, anyway? It had to have been a resident, or someone let them in.”

“Right? It seems kind of sus that someone would be lurking out in the hallway just waiting for me and Nayeon to run out there.”

The two of you stand there in silence next to the bin of tennis balls, pondering the situation.

“Do you think… it was one of us?” she asks.

The thought that the photographer could have been one of the girls hadn’t occurred to you. But you supposed it was possible that one of the girls who had beef with Nayeon - or at least, was on Chaeyoung’s side, or doing her bidding - could have snapped the photos. Aside from Jeongyeon, who lived with her sister in a separate apartment, all the members lived in the same building, if in different units, so access to that particular hallway wouldn’t have been a problem for any one of them.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” you admit. “Do you think someone snapped those photos and leaked them to start shit with Nayeon?”

“Beats me,” Jeongyeon says with a shrug, although the slight furrow in her brow and the seriousness of her tone hinted at the concern she was hiding behind her casual tone. “Either way, it’s a really shitty thing to do. Nayeon’s been inconsolable. I called her right after the pictures leaked, and she spent an hour just crying on the line. She and Momo and I were supposed to go for dinner yesterday, but the three of us just spent the entire night in her room consoling her. She must’ve thought her career was over.”

Your frown deepens. The last thing you’d wanted was for Nayeon’s career to be affected - especially after she’d spilled her feelings about it to you. You knew what relationship rumors did to an idol’s career.

“Hey, don’t worry about it too much,” Jeongyeon says. “JYP’s got a good PR department. You’ve seen how they’ve handled it. Most of the public seems to have bought the ‘family friend’ story.”

“I suppose,” you agree. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a shitty thing to do. I need to find out who was behind it.”

Jeongyeon nods, but doesn’t say anything further. She gazes blankly at the bin of tennis balls, reaching down and grabbing one before turning it around in her hands.

“You like her, don’t you?” she asks.

Caught a little off guard by her question, you can do little more than mumble a “Who?”

“Nayeon. You have feelings for her. You seem awfully concerned about this whole thing.”

“I’m just her manag-... I mean, I’m just a toy for you girls.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t have feelings for Nayeon, Jeongyeon.”

“So Chaeyoung, then? She was the one who picked you out of the crowd, picked you to be our toy. You’ve spent more time with her than with any of us. I see the way you look at each other.”

You take a moment to compose your answer - and Jeongyeon gives you a sly smirk when you look up at her, as though your silence had told her all she needed to know.

“She must’ve been pretty pissed off about the whole thing, huh?” she asks.

“I think so. I tried to reach out to her after the pics leaked, but she wasn’t having me. She was pretty pissed off.” You left out the details, including the choice names Chaeyoung had for Nayeon. It seemed Chaeyoung was perfectly fine with you sleeping with the other girls - but seeing you and Nayeon sharing a more emotionally intimate moment seemed to have struck a chord with her.

Jeongyeon gives you a short nod, her eyes focused on the ball in her hands. After a moment she tosses it into your chest.

“Alright, that’s enough small talk,” she says with a smile. “Now go set up the machine and serve me another set, ball boy.”

---

Jeongyeon, it appeared, was a breath of fresh air in yet another way.

For the most part, the other girls had been relatively similar in terms of the power dynamic when it came to your more intimate duties. A few had bossed you around - at least initially - while some were more submissive. Some were somewhere in between, or happy to switch between the two poles at will or as the session went on. Either way, you never felt like you weren’t in control of the proceedings whenever you were with any of the girls.

But none were quite like Jeongyeon. It was clear right from the very start who was calling the shots.

You were a little nervous when she’d pulled you into the private, secure shower rooms of the upscale indoor tennis facility; not for fear of getting caught, but rather because you’d never been intimate with her before. Despite having worked with them for months, the stars had never quite aligned and you’d never been alone with her for very long, so the opportunity had never presented itself. You figured she’d be like the other girls, and that she’d pull you into the shower with her, you’d fuck, then you’d both go on your merry way.

But instead she made you wait outside her shower door.

She hadn’t even undressed in front of you - she’d instead tossed her sweaty clothes over the closed shower door for you to pick up. And so you spent the next twenty minutes standing there, awkwardly, her sweaty hoodie and leggings in your hands as she showered - although you did make note of the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear.

At least the shower door was only partially frosted, and its semi-transparent surface had given you a solid view of her soft, curvy body as she cleaned the afternoon’s worth of sweat off herself. Like the other girls, she had been slim and bordering on underweight when she’d debuted - but growing into adulthood had given her a curvier, fuller, more womanly shape than the other girls. Even through the frosted glass the differences were obvious; the other girls were thin sticks compared to Jeongyeon’s full, womanly shape. It was plain to see in her hips, those round thighs, and her long, luxurious legs.

“Towels please,” she says as she nears the end of her shower, “Two of them.” With more enthusiasm than you were expecting you pick up a couple of the luxurious looking towels from the nearby shelf and pass it to her over the shower door.

You find yourself licking your lips at the sight as you watch her dry herself through the frosted panel. Intentionally or not, she turns her back to you as she bends over to dry her legs - presenting you with the silhouette of her found, firm butt as she does so. You feel your lower lip curl under your front tooth at the sight.

She found you still standing there when she finished up, swinging the shower door open in a rush of hot steam and moist air. She stepped through the fog as if by magic, like some fairy creature emerging from the mists - one towel wrapped tight around her torso, the other around her drying hair.

“Enjoyed the show, did you?” she asks, an alluring smirk on her lips.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit. “You’re kinda gorgeous, I guess.”

The smirk on the young woman’s lips deepens into a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Come on, then.”

You follow her from the showers and into the changing room, which was empty - the facility had been more than willing to shut down the entire place for an idol of Jeongyeon’s caliber, it seemed. She takes a seat on one of the long wooden benches, slipping one long, delicious leg over the other. The towel that was all that kept her decent rides up her legs, revealing more of the flushed, moist skin of her full thighs.

“Alright, you can start.”

Puzzled, you are unsure how to answer. “Uh, what?” you stammer.

“You can get started. Take off your clothes.”

Her forthrightness catches you off guard, and it’s only after locking eyes with her and noticing the sultry look on her features that you slowly begin to remove the zippered hoodie you were wearing.

“So, uh, this is happening, huh?” you ask, as you toss your hoodie onto the bench next to her. You step closer to the young woman, eager to finally get your chance with her.

She stops you with a hand on your belly. Her hand gives you a sharp push - almost a shove - one that sends you stepping backward to your original position.

“Did I fucking tell you to move?” she hisses with a shake of her head, tone sharp, but with that mischievous little smile still on her lips.

“I- I-, uh, sorry, Jeongyeon.”

“I bet you think that this is the part where I get on my knees and suck your dick before you fuck me like you do the other girls, huh?” she asks, casually. “The part where I become a pathetic, mewling little thing that tells you to ‘use me, fuck me, fill me up with cum?’ That may be true with the other girls, but that’s not what’s going to happen here.”

“Oh yeah?” you answer, as you begin to undo your belt. You find your own smile appearing at the corners of your lips - this assertiveness was new and exciting, and something you hadn’t found in the other girls. “Then what will happen here, Jeongyeon?”

“You’re going to strip, first,” she answers, “so I can see exactly what the other girls have been going so crazy over. Then you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

It doesn’t take much more motivation for you to follow her orders, and soon your t-shirt, pants, and boxers have joined your hoodie on the bench next to her. Throughout it all you watch Jeongyeon’s eyes drink in your body as you remove each article of clothing. More than once you catch a slick pink tongue gliding over soft pink lips, but for the most part she retains her composure, legs still crossed, hands folded atop her knees as she watches you undress.

Soon you are standing there, fully naked, hands on your hips. Between your legs, your half-stiff cock begins to stir - and it gives you a good measure of pride to watch a look of approval wash over Jeongyeon’s features.

“Well, now I see why the girls love you so much. Tell me,” she begins, leaning over her knees and bringing an index finger to her chin and lips, head bent to the side slightly and eyes fixed on your cock, as though she were admiring a display in a gallery. “Which of the girls are the subby ones?”

You certainly weren’t expecting to be interrogated while naked, but you are happy to let Jeongyeon set the pace. “It kind of depends. They all have their moments. Dahyun, Sana, Mina… I suppose they’re the most subby.”

“Interesting. And the others are doms?”

“It depends. Like I said, sometimes the girls switch between them.”

“Ah,” she says, looking and sounding for all the world like she were having a conversation over a museum piece and not discussing the sexual preferences of her group mates. “And what do you think I am?”

You lock eyes with her, and for the first time you find sheer, unfiltered hunger in those deep brown pools.

“I think… I think you like being in control, Jeongyeon.”

“That’s right,” she says, a satisfied look on her features as she leans backwards slightly on the bench. “And don’t you forget it.”

Her right hand reaches for the towel wrapped around her torso, and with an agonizingly slow flick of her wrist she slips the moist fabric from her body, dropping the towel on the floor next to her. Shortly thereafter the towel wrapped around her head joins it, letting her short chocolate-brown hair fall in a slick, wet tumble around her small face.

You have only a moment to appreciate the young woman’s naked body before she uncrosses her legs and spreads them widely, her flushed, full thighs parting to reveal the soft pink flesh between them.

Jeongyeon slides a hand above her mound, the tips of her fingers playing idly with the slick flesh of her slit.

“Come on, then, ball boy,” she says, her voice utterly dripping now with a kind of seduction and temptation that none of the other girls could hope to imitate. “Come show me what your mouth can do.”

Your body moves of its own accord, almost involuntarily, closing the distance between you and the gorgeous young woman atop the bench. Your eyes soak in the sight of her - full breasts, wide hips, thick, flushed thighs - and you wonder just how you managed to last this long without having her.

You go to your knees between Jeongyeon’s, reaching out with your hands to cup her spread thighs from beneath. You hear the slightest, faintest gasp escape her lips as you make intimate skin contact with her for the first time - but the gasp disappears quickly and turns into a soft coo as you bend your upper body to begin placing soft kisses on the warm skin of her inner thighs.

Going down on the girls was something you’d admittedly had little practice with - they’d either been more than willing to perform oral on you, or skip it altogether and get right to the main course - and so you were determined to savor every moment of this opportunity with Jeongyeon. Not only was her dominating, in-control nature refreshing; it was also a chance to satiate an inner need to feel a woman’s most intimate parts on your tongue.

With this in mind you take your time, savoring the touch and taste of Jeongyeon’s warm, soft thighs beneath your lips. She lets little sighs and coos of satisfaction leave her lips with every kiss you make, the soft sounds echoing off the tiles of the empty changing room. Just before you reach her pussy you switch to her other thigh, starting halfway up and re-starting the slow approach to her slit - eliciting a sigh of frustration from the young woman.

“Such a fucking tease,” she says, half-hiss, half-sigh. “I bet you get all the other girls hot and bothered doing this, huh?”

You smirk in reply as you take a glance at her pussy, mere inches from your face. Perfect pink lips, shaved bare, already glistening.

“I think you’re getting all hot and bothered yourself.”

Jeongyeon blushes, but returns your smirk. “I think you should do something about it, then.”

“I dunno,” you say, your lips curling into a smile even as you continue to plant kisses on her inner thigh. “I kind of like getting you all hot and bothered.”

Her response to your snarky little comment is immediate - a hand in your hair, pulling your head up violently by your scalp to face her.

“If you don’t shut up and put your tongue on my pussy, you won’t be getting the chance to put anything else in there.”

You are equal parts frightened and aroused by the challenge you see in her eyes - to say nothing of the painful grip she had on your hair. You give her the slightest of nods, and seemingly satisfied that you’d learned your place, she pulls your head down towards her crotch.

Suitably chastised but equally turned on by her forcefulness, you dive into Jeongyeon’s folds, giving her a long, slow lick from the bottom of her opening to the top, adding in a slight swirl of the tip of your tongue around the bud of her clit. The sound that leaves her mouth is one you want to record and play back over and over - long and low and soft, a sigh of satisfaction and pleasure and release all rolled up into one perfect melody.

You savor her taste on your palate as you dive into her body once again, giving her long slow licks, lapping up her juices, savoring the imprints of her taste and smell and sound on your senses. She tastes like no other woman, slick and moist, tangy and sweet.

“Fuck yes,” she hisses, the words leaving her mouth with no small amount of satisfaction, mirrored in part by the tightening of her grip on the back your head. “That’s right. That feels so good. Eat my pussy like a good little boy.”

Her chosen pet name for you lit something inside you - something you hoped would ignite into flame later on.

For now you content yourself with devouring her body, relishing the feel of her writhing and squirming beneath your tongue. You grasp her hips with your hands, and she involuntarily wraps her legs around your shoulders, trapping your head between her full, warm thighs, wrapping your face with her soft flesh. It is warm and wet and sticky and there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather have been, and with no other woman.

You spend a long couple of minutes there, trapped between Jeongyeon’s thighs, devouring the young woman’s dripping cunt, lapping up every drop of her freely flowing juices, savoring the taste of her body on your tongue.

After awhile it becomes almost suffocating between her thighs, and as happy as you might have been to have had your obituary read ‘suffocated to death by Yoo Jeongyeon’s thighs’ they were closing a little too tightly around your head, and keeping you from doing what you wanted - which was swirling your tongue around her needy little clit. It earns you a sigh of frustration when you reach up with your hands and part her full thighs, but you make up for it by using your newfound freedom to close your lips around her clit and using the tip of your tongue to begin swirling random patterns around it.

Jeongyeon is past sighing and cooing now, and fully into moaning her pleasure into the empty changing room. But even her moans are different - the other girls were happy to let out sheer unfiltered moans of pleasure, but Jeongyeon’s were controlled, measured, with a hint of satisfaction and gratification in them, as though she were actively obtaining pleasure instead of simply receiving it.

Whatever she felt, you were content to let her vocalize her pleasure in whatever way suited her - the pleasured, delightful moans bouncing off the tiles and walls of the changing room filled your ears, made it seem like she were everywhere around you, moaning her pleasure directly into your brain.

It’s when you slip a hand from her thighs and slide a finger against her entrance that her moans reach another peak - one she shatters when you slide your index and middle fingers, slowly but steadily, inside her.

“Fuck!” she snaps, her mouth opening and freezing in an open “O” as your fingers penetrate her for the first time, easily sliding inside her wet, slick pussy to find that rough, textured patch at the front wall of her opening. She only manages to resume her moans when you begin to scratch the patch with soft strokes, using the very tip of your fingers to tease it, back and forth, your tongue on her clit and free hand on her hip the only thing keeping her hips and butt from wriggling right off the table.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck--” she continues in between moans, “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum all over your fucking mouth fuck I’m cumming-”

It doesn’t take long. Not with what you were doing to her body. Soon the slur of profanity and moans leaving her mouth cut out, her body goes rigid, and the fingernails digging furrows into your scalp send spikes of pain into your brain as her grip on your head tightens involuntarily.

She orgasms under your tongue, and a flush of her slick, warm juices squirts onto your chin before you open your mouth enough to drink it all in.

Yoo Jeongyeon was a squirter.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she swears as her body is wracked with pleasure, still twitching and squirming beneath your tongue and hands as she finishes squirting on your face, leaving your mouth and jaws slick with her wetness. While her orgasm is still coursing through her veins you wrap your mouth around her clit, your tongue resuming its swirls around her bud, albeit at a slightly slower pace, ensuring that you weren’t overstimulating her. Inside her your fingers - despite being almost crushed by the pulsating tightness of her walls - remain unmoving, content simply to fill her, a prelude to what you hoped would fill her next.

“Oh god,” she says, one last time. Your mouth leaves her clit and your fingers slowly slide out of her, earning one last whimper of pleasure from the young woman. “Fuck, damn, no one’s ever made me do that before.”

You don’t quite know what to say to that confession, and so as you lick her juices from your fingers, swirl them around your tongue and swallow them, you answer the only way you know how: “Fuck, you taste so fucking good, Jeongyeon.”

“Yeah?” she says, breathlessly.

“Fuck yeah. I could eat you all day.”

A wicked grin appears on her lips, and she reaches up and grasps your sore scalp with a hand before crushing your lips with hers. Her tongue slides eagerly into your mouth, and you can feel her lips curl into a smile as she tastes herself on you.

She ends the short but passionate kiss - and you notice a hunger, a need in her eyes that you hadn’t thought the casual, aloof young woman was capable of. It lasts only a moment, before she returns to kissing you, giving you a soft kiss on the lips before bringing her lips, stained with her own juices, to your ear.

“You like how mommy tastes?”

There were a few moments over the months you’d spent with the girls that you’d call sexual awakenings - the growing occurrence of group sex, given the sheer number of girls you were tasked with pleasuring, was one thing. Your first experience with multiple penetration and taking all three of a woman’s holes in a single evening were others. But this - Yoo Jeongyeon awakening your fucking mommy kink - this was somewhere near the top of that list.

“Fuck yes, mommy,” you hiss, the words spilling from your mouth involuntarily in a rushed slur, as though your body wanted to react long before its brain could formulate a proper fucking sentence.

Jeongyeon leaves your ear to stare you in the eyes, her face only a few inches away from yours.

“Good,” she says, cheeks flushed, a sultry smile on her lips. “Come sit on the floor for mommy, now. I’ll show you how mommy fucks.”

Once again your body seems to move of its own accord, quickly taking a seat down on the cold tile of the changing room, leaning back and keeping yourself upright with your hands behind you. Jeongyeon rises from the bench, taking a moment to stand over you, relishing the hungry look in your eyes as you take in the sight of her naked body from head to toe. You lick your lips, still tasting her juices in your mouth - you couldn’t remember the last time you were so eager to be inside a woman, which was significant considering the experiences you’d had over the last few months.

Jeongyeon straddles you on the floor, her full, warm thighs on either side of your hips, her knees on the tile. She reaches down between you, grasping your needy, sensitive shaft with her long, thin fingers. She brings your tip to her drenched folds, dragging it up and down between her slick lips, lathering your head with her freely flowing juices.

“Mmmm,” she purrs. “You really want to be inside mommy’s pussy, don’t you?”

“Fuck yes, mommy please,” you reply, caring little for the desperation that was evident in your tone.

“Good. Because mommy’s going to fuck you until you fill her cunt with your cum. Can you do that for me? Can my little boy fill me with his cum?”

“Fuck, yes, Jeong- mommy, mommy please.”

You expect a reply, one last snarky, teasing comment - but there is only a deepening of the smirk on her lips before Yoo Jeongyeon dips her hips and takes you inside her.

“Fucking hell,” you swear as you fill her for the first time. She was so wet, so very, very wet - more so than the other girls. Wet and hot, like your cock was being enveloped by a slick, moist heat from all directions.

“Mmmm, you’re so big inside mommy,” Jeongyeon sighs as she impales herself on your cock to the base. From this position your face was level with her upper chest, and she captures your face with her palms on your cheeks before turning it upward to face her own. “You’re stretching out mommy’s pussy so good, filling her up so well. Are you ready for mommy to fuck you, baby boy? Are you ready to be a good little cock for mommy to ride until she cums all over you?”

“Oh god, oh god yes,” you spit, the words as much a plead as they were a declaration of your state of readiness and eagerness.

Eyes still locked on yours, Jeongyeon begins to ride you - and you soon find your eyes closing involuntarily as the pleasure overtakes your senses.

Her pussy would have been enough - that hot, wet tightness would have been all you needed to cruise to an quick and easy orgasm - but Jeongyeon was so much more than that. There was her body, so feminine and curvy and womanly; there was her motherly, protective nature combined with a casual easygoing-ness that made it easy to fall in love with her; and now there was the newfound kink she’d just awoken in you - one that you hadn’t known had been there all along, just waiting for the right woman to unlock it.

And beyond all that she was clearly very skilled with it came to riding you - the way she rolled her hips, the way she grinded her pussy against your crotch in circular motions, the way she squeezed her walls against your shaft with every entry only to release on the exit and repeat it over and over and over again - this was a woman who knew what she was doing. This was a woman who was in control.

You force your eyes open to watch her face as she rides you. Head cast back slightly, eyes shut, mouth slightly ajar, a soft tumble of sighs and moans leaving her lips with every entry and exit into her body - she was a sight to see. But she never seemed like she was losing control of herself, or being overwhelmed by the sensations flowing through her veins. This was a woman actively finding her own pleasure at a pace and speed that she was comfortable with, instead of simply taking the pleasure being forced upon her body like the other girls.

As if sensing your eyes on hers she opens them, leaves them half-lidded, looking down on you from above with power and command.

“Does that feel good, baby boy? Do you like the feel of mommy’s cunt wrapped around your cock?” she hisses, her calm, measured tone only slightly compromised by the pleasure in her veins and the movements of her body.

“Yes, mommy. Mommy feels so good.”

“Mmmm,” she coos, a tender smile on her lips. “You feel so good inside me. You make mommy feel so full!”

Your eyes wander - down her long, graceful neck, and onto the full, round mounds of her breasts. Your mouth follows your gaze, and before you know it you are reaching up with one hand to cup one full mound, capturing her taut nipple between an index finger and your thumb before latching onto it with your mouth and sucking.

Jeongyeon yelps when you begin to suckle from her - a yelp that turns into a small giggle, as though your mouth on her breasts was something that brought her intense happiness. The giggles are only temporary, however, turning back into moans and cries that reach a new volume as you take your fill of her chest, sucking from one nipple while squeezing and pinching and twisting the other.

Her riding increases in pace, her pussy a sloppy wet mess now as she somehow becomes even wetter than she already was. Throughout it all she remains tight and hot around you as she takes you in and out of her body, your mouth and fingers latched onto her breasts all the while. Eventually she tears your mouth from her chest with her hands latched tightly around your cheeks, pointing your face towards hers.

For a few long moments she rides you, your face cradled in her hands and her eyes locked on yours. You watch as her eyelids twitch, watch as they close halfway, watch every little movement of her face and features as she continues to ride your cock on the shower room floor.

You would have wanted to take things slowly, wanted to relish every entry and exit made by the beautiful woman on your cock. You would have wanted to relish the sight of sweat dripping long slick trails down her body, and the taste of it when you licked it off her flushed skin. Jeongyeon was like nothing and no one else, and you wanted to savor the moment.

But what you wanted didn’t matter. Only her pleasure did, and she was in control, not you. And the fact that your orgasm was approaching faster than you would’ve liked didn’t matter to her. Only her own orgasm did.

“You’re gonna make mommy cum,” she hisses between gritted teeth as she struggles to maintain her composure amidst the waves of pleasure emanating from her crotch with every bounce on your cock. “Do you… oh god yes… do you… do you want mommy to cum on your cock?”

“Yes please, Jeongyeon. Please cum, mommy!”

“Will you… will you cum too, baby boy? Will you fill mommy’s tight wet little cunt with your cum?”

“Yes, Jeongyeon, mommy, please, please, please cum for me-”

“Oh god, fuck I’m cumming-”

She does - and she crushes your face against her sweat-slick, flushed chest as she does so. You bury your face in her cleavage and you wouldn’t have given a damn if you’d never emerged from those warm soft depths, wouldn’t’ve have cared if they’d had to peel your dead body from between Jeongyeon’s tits.

All that matters is her, and her tight, pulsating cunt around your cock and the way it milked your orgasming shaft of every drop of cum you had. You feel each pulse, each twitch of your cock as it sends spurt after spurt of thick, hot semen into Jeongyeon’s needy little pussy, filling her cunt with cum, filling it with you.

You weren’t quite sure how much time you spent there, in that warm, wet little slice of heaven that you’d found between Jeongyeon’s breasts. But when your face finally emerges from her chest and you look up at her you find her looking at you with the warmest, most caring smile you’d ever seen in your life. It was beautiful, soft, almost maternal.

She strokes your hair gently, running her fingers through the sweaty strands, the softness of her touch somehow taking away the painful soreness she’d left there when she was gripping your scalp earlier. She wraps her arms around your head, bringing your face back into her upper chest.

She grinds her crotch against yours, causing your still-stiff shaft inside her to move, her every movement making soft, slick sounds as your combined juices slur about inside her body. Throughout it all she continues to stroke your hair, planting short, soft kisses on the top of your head.

“Your cum feels so good inside mommy,” she says, softly.

You feel your own arms wrap around her, your arms tight against her sweaty back as she continues to fuck her cum-filled pussy on your cock. You close your eyes, savoring the intense feeling of warmth and safety Yoo Jeongyeon had provided you.

---

It took another few hours before Jeongyeon arrived at the apartment she shared with her sister - your little session with her on the changing room floor had, of course, necessitated another quick shower so she could at least look presentable on the way home.

She quickly and easily slipped back into the casual, easygoing and aloof persona that you’d normally associated with her, and she made for a fun and easy conversation partner as you drove her home. She made a nice change of pace from the usual small talk you shared with the girls, and you found yourself hoping you’d be spending more time with her in the near future.

She was more than a little surprised to find that she had a guest waiting for her in her bedroom.

“Your sister let me in,” Nayeon says as Jeongyeon steps into the room.

“I see you’re miraculously doing better,” Jeongyeon replies, a slight edge in her voice as she drops her tennis racket and duffel bag in a corner of the room.

“I am. I’m not sure if you know, but I've been through quite a traumatic experience recently. Pics of me and my secret lover were leaked all over the internet,” Nayeon replies, making no attempt to hide the sarcasm in her tone.

Jeongyeon frowns and lets a breath out from her nose, but says nothing in response.

Nayeon saunters around the room, stopping in front of the dressing table and the high-end DSLR camera atop it. She lets her fingers trace little patterns atop its knobs and dials, a smug smile on her perfect lips.

“Did you fuck him?”

“Yes,” Jeongyeon replies.

“Did he cum in you?”

“Yes.”

Nayeon lets a small smile appear at the corners of her lips.

“Nayeon-”

“Yes?” the older woman asks, sharply, turning for the first time to face her friend.

“Nayeon,” Jeongyeon repeats, “I… I don’t want to help you with this anymore.”

Nayeon scoffs, letting a sharp breath escape her lips. She crosses her arms and leans back, resting her butt on the dressing table.

“So you fuck him once and suddenly you don’t want to help me?”

“That’s not true,” Jeongyeon states, although she can already feel her resolve weakening. She couldn’t even look at Nayeon, and she settles instead for awkwardly playing with her hands. No one else did this to her. No one else could turn her into a defenseless loser. Only she could. Only Nayeon.

“So what is it?”

Silence reigns for a moment as Jeongyeon considers her answer. The seconds pass like hours. Jeongyeon hazards a glance at her older friend’s eyes, but Nayeon’s features are stone cold, and she finds little comfort in those dark pools.

“I’ve been thinking bout it, Nayeon. And…”

“-And?”

“It’s not fair,” Jeongyeon states, although it takes all of the conviction she had left in her to say it. Nayeon had a way of breaking her down, tearing down her resolve, no matter how prepared she thought she was. “It’s not fair to him.”

Nayeon lets her eyes roll.

“I understand you have beef with Chaeyoung,” Jeongyeon continues, summoning up what was left of her courage. “But… but he has nothing to do with it. He’s just a guy doing a job. We don’t need to ruin his life just so you can piss Chaeyoung off. I don’t want to help you with this anymore. If you want to keep on starting shit with Chaeyoung then you can go ahead, just leave me and him the fuck out of it.”

Nayeon returns her gaze to Jeongyeon, who can hold it for only a moment before she has to look away. She lets a sigh escape her lips before leaving the dressing table and approaching Jeongyeon.

“Hey, hey,” she says, softly, her tone suddenly apologetic now as she reaches up to caress Jeongyeon’s cheek. “Okay. I won’t involve him anymore. Him, or you. Will that make you happy?”

Jeongyeon doesn’t answer, closing her eyes, doing her best to ignore the softness of Nayeon’s palm against her cheek. Nayeon’s touch was her weakness - had always been her weakness. It hurt her to know how sharply she’d fallen from being the one in control mere minutes before, when she was with him, to being so very weak and helpless with her.

“You’ve already done your part, anyway,” Nayeon says, her tone soft and low, as though she were comforting a hurt child. “He… doesn’t suspect you were involved, does he?”

Jeongyeon shakes her head in Nayeon’s palm.

“And he still believes it was one of the other girls that took the photos?”

Jeongyeon nods.

“Good,” Nayeon says. “Then your part is done - I’m sure those pics have convinced Chaeyoung who really owns her toy. I’ll take it from here. You’re still going to be moving back in with Momo and I, right?”

Jeongyeon gives her the slightest of nods.

“Good.”

Nayeon’s palm on her cheek turns Jeongyeon to face her. The older girl’s free hand wraps itself around Jeongyeon’s waist. Jeongyeon wants to fight it, wants to push her hands away and tell the older girl to leave, but she is too soft, and too beautiful, and too Nayeon.

And so when Nayeon leans up to kiss her, Jeongyeon can do nothing to stop it. Even as the kiss deepens, even as Nayeon’s tongue slides into her mouth, she can do nothing. She is frozen, powerless, defenseless - a far cry from the dominating, controlling woman she was in the changing room earlier that day.

Nayeon breaks the kiss before her hand drifts to Jeongyeon’s, and she slowly pulls her towards the waiting bed. Once she reaches it she pulls her hoodie over her head and pulls her sweatpants down her long legs - leaving her naked. She makes a show of crawling onto Jeongyeon’s bed on all fours, relishing the feel of her friend’s eyes taking in every movement of her body.

She pats the bed next to her, beckoning her friend to join her.

“Now then,” Nayeon begins. “Do you need me to clean his filthy cum out of your pussy, mommy?”

Jeongyeon sighs, powerless.

---

Author’s Note:

Locke: “Toy is a PWP series”

Also Locke:

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #twice smut #twice jeongyeon #jeongyeon smut

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chelseachilly · 8 months

Text

THIS LOVE - chapter five | we found wonderland, you and i got lost in it

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.9k

summary: you know you have to end your fake relationship with ben, you just have to find the right time. and get through one more big event as his girlfriend. ft. special guest appearance by mason!!! (and lots of angst)

A/N: once again i'm sorry for the delay in updating, i've had a busy couple of weeks! i also apologize in advance for this chapter...title is from wonderland by taylor

previous chapter | view all chapters

The week following the Nike party, you once again find yourself in the difficult position of avoiding your best friend/fake boyfriend.

This time, though, it’s not because you’re confused about how you’re feeling about him. It’s because you’re now painfully aware of the fact that you’re in love with him, and it’s very hard to be around him and pretend you’re not.

It’s also much harder to pretend to be his girlfriend in public now, which is why you know you need to tell him this is over. You just don’t know how - or when.

You know for certain that you’re going to have to wait until his international break this week is over, as the last thing you want to do is mess with his head before he takes on Italy at Wembley on Sunday. When he texts you from the training camp that he’s likely to be on the starting lineup, you’re so happy for him that you almost forget how dire the situation is.

You’ve already agreed to attend the game and sit in the players lounge with his family, as well as attend the team dinner with him afterward. These are all things a girlfriend would do - although they’re also all things you’ve done many times before you were “dating” - but you’re dreading it.

It’s going to be incredibly painful sitting there cheering him on in his kit and holding his hand at dinner knowing all of this has an expiration date. That it isn’t real.

When Sunday rolls around, you reluctantly put on Ben’s jersey - a brand-new England one this time, which he had delivered to you this week - and prepare yourself for the task at hand. You just need to get through today. You’ll tell him tomorrow that this needs to end, and hopefully you will have done enough to repair his image by now that whatever statement his publicist writes about your “amicable breakup” will suffice. As much as it’s killing you to keep this going, you’re not sure you would have it in you to end it if Ben will suffer for it.

His mum and sister come to pick you up so you can go to Wembley together, and you force a smile as Sally chats excitedly about the match ahead and thanks you profusely for what you’re doing for Ben. This makes you feel even worse, as you can’t really explain to Ben’s mother that you might have to put his reputation on the line once again because you’ve gone and fallen in love with him.

Or perhaps that you’ve been in love with him the whole time without realizing it. And that you being in love with him is the reason you agreed to be his fake girlfriend so easily.

And maybe that it’s why it’s why it’s never worked out with any of your past boyfriends. You’d always assumed they were threatened by Ben because they weren’t used to boys and girls being so close or they were intimidated by him being a footballer, but maybe there was some merit to it - maybe it’s why it didn’t even cross your mind that pretending to date Ben might interfere with your love life.

But those are all thoughts you don’t have time to dwell on right now, as your Uber is pulling up to the stadium and you have to mentally prepare for an entire day and night with Ben and many of his closest friends and family.

You’re escorted by England staff to a bustling room full of people and given your VIP passes for the day. You weren’t sure if the players would be allowed to mingle with their guests before warmups, but it seems Southgate is going a bit easy on them as they’re already leading their group in the qualifiers and they’ve been training hard all week. This is nice for the boys, but not so great for you.

As soon as you walk into the lounge, Ben runs over to greet you, enveloping his mum and Alex in a quick hug before giving you a casual peck on the cheek that feels too casual, too reflexive. You barely even register it until he’s pulled back and is beaming at you.

“Thanks for coming,” he murmurs in a low, sincere voice that you know is only meant for you to hear. “I missed you this week.”

Your brain can’t seem to conjure a response, apparently overwhelmed by the slightest bit of attention from the man you’ve known just about your entire life, but luckily you’re interrupted.

You squeal slightly as you feel someone hug you from behind, but you relax as you turn to see it’s only Mason. Returning his bright smile, you throw your arms around him to hug him tightly.

“Mason, it’s been forever!” you exclaim as you pull back.

Mason has always been one of your favourites of Ben’s friends, and you’ve been quite close with him ever since Ben joined Chelsea. You think you’ve missed him almost as much as Ben has since his transfer to Manchester United.

“I know,” Mason sighs. “Been a crazy few months, but it’s nice to be back in London for a few days and see everyone.”

“Especially his best mate who he abandoned,” Ben jokes, making both you and Mason roll your eyes instinctively. “I’m gonna show Mum and Alex to the bar, you want anything, Y/N?”

“Um, no, I’m good, thanks,” you say a bit stiffly, fiddling with the seam of your shirt and avoiding eye contact.

Ben looks a bit confused but doesn’t press you further, probably because you’re surrounded by people, and nods once before walking away with Alex and Sally.

As soon as he’s gone, Mason looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s going on with you two?”

“Has Ben not told you about our…arrangement?” you ask quietly.

“No, he has,” Mason shakes his head. “I mean why are you being weird privately? Are you guys fighting or something?”

You let out a sigh - if Mason picked up on how awkward that interaction was then Ben definitely did too, and that’s the last thing you want.

“It’s nothing. I’m just…reconsidering the arrangement,” you admit. “It’s become a lot harder than I expected.”

“Too hard pretending to be in love with Ben? Fair enough,” Mason says with a slight chuckle, which quickly fades when he sees your serious expression.

“More like…too easy,” you murmur.

He’s the first person you’re confessing this to, as it’s still too terrifying for you to even fathom, let alone speak out loud. It does feel like a small weight off your chest, but that’s replaced by another wave of fear. You know Mason won’t tell anyone, but saying it makes it seem all the more real.

“Seriously?” Mason asks with wide eyes.

“Please don’t say anything to him.”

“I won’t, but…holy shit, Y/N. You’re in love with Ben. I mean, I always thought there was something, but-“

“Keep your voice down,” you scold him quietly, before his words fully grip you. “Wait, you knew?”

“Well, you guys have always been so close.”

“He’s also close with you and Tom and Madders and-“

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” Mason says gently yet firmly at the same time, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You should tell him.”

“I…I can’t,” you sigh. “He doesn’t feel the same way, and I can’t risk losing him completely.”

“But-“

He doesn’t get to finish his rebuttal before Ben returns to your side, passing you a glass.

“Got you a water just in case, you looked a bit pale,” he says softly with a gentle hand on your back, making your heart thump so hard in your chest that you’re worried it’s going to explode. “But say the word and I’ll swap it out for a G&T.”

Damn this boy and his thoughtful gestures and how well he knows you and how cute he looks in his training kit. It’s going to be a long day.

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile, ignoring the knowing looks Mason is sending your way.

The boys say goodbye shortly after to go prepare for the game, and you find Alex and Sally once more so you can make your way to your seats.

It’s a tense game, even if you weren’t already tense going into it. Both teams have a goal going into the second half, and possession has been a pretty even split so far. As the clock begins to run out, it looks like a draw is likely - until Ben volleys it into the net with less than five minutes to go and scores the winner.

Of course he looks insanely good doing it, too - you really hope Sally is distracted enough by celebrating Ben’s goal that she doesn’t see how you’re staring at her son like he’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen in your life, which he very well might be. You’re completely in awe of him as he celebrates the goal and, as soon as the whistle is blown, the win, with his teammates.

God forbid he just be your insanely attractive, smart, caring best friend, he also has to be a national hero today.

Everyone is caught up in the excitement of another win, solidifying England’s place in the Euros, as you make your way down to the tunnels to congratulate the boys.

When you see Ben, you don’t know what comes over you, but every single rational thought that existed in your brain a few hours ago flies out the window. You know you should be holding back, but instead you find yourself running straight toward him and flinging your arms around his neck.

Ben immediately catches you and pulls you close, and despite how sweaty he is and how many people are watching, you can’t seem to get close enough. You squeeze him tight as he lifts you off the ground for a moment.

“You were amazing,” you mumble into his shoulder.

When he pulls back, part of you expects to snap out of whatever spell he has you under, but it’s the exact opposite - you see his wide eyes and bright smile and it suddenly feels hard to stand.

Ben must notice your sudden lightheadedness, as his hands find your waist and keep you steady.

“You alright?” he asks you quietly, and you nod.

“Yeah, I’m just so proud of you,” you say, and it’s half of the truth. The other half is that you’re so in love with him you can hardly breathe. “That was so incredible.”

Ben smiles and squeezes your waist tighter, somehow both grounding you and making you feel like you’re floating at the same time.

“Thank you for being here,” he breathes.

You think you could stand here in his arms, staring into his bright blue eyes, for the rest of eternity, but you’re still in a room full of people, all of whom want Ben’s attention at the moment.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Ben says softly as he’s being summoned for an interview, and you just nod and watch him go.

You continue to watch him with pride from afar as he answers questions about the match and his goal.

His gaze periodically drifts over to you, his smile growing each time your eyes meet.

You realize that although this may be the first time you’ve been able to identify what the feelings are, this isn’t the first time you’ve looked at him and felt like your heart was going to explode out of your chest.

You felt this way when he showed up at your dorm with all your favourite foods and spent the entire night helping you study for a chemistry exam. You felt it when he got his first England call-up and FaceTimed you before anyone else. You’ve felt it when you’re watching a film and he adds his own little commentary that would annoy you if it were anyone but him.

At your best and worst moments, through the years and across miles that separated you, it’s always been Ben.

As Sally and Alex leave to find the washroom, you see Mason approaching you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Nice game,” you say to him a bit shyly, knowing that he’s caught you staring at his best mate like he hung the stars.

“Thanks,” Mason says with a soft look, throwing his arm around you. “You should tell him tonight, Y/N. The game is over and he has the next week off. It’s the perfect time.”

“I can’t,” you reiterate, “he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How do you know?”

“Mase, the whole reason we’re doing this is because he has a reputation for being a fuckboy, remember?” you whisper to him. “He’s never seen me that way.”

“Y/N…”

You’re once again saved from Mason’s line of questioning when Ben begins to wave you over to where the players are all taking photos with their significant others in front of the England flag.

“Tell him,” Mason whispers to you once more as you begin to walk away, walking directly over to the man your brain is telling you to run away from.

Your heart rate is still struggling to return to normal from the hug earlier, and it doesn’t help things when Ben immediately pulls you into his side for the photo, fingers splayed across your hip.

“You two are adorable!” the girl taking the photo, someone from the media team, exclaims with a grin. “Would you like to do one with a kiss?”

You’re aware that it might look suspicious if you don’t kiss him when all the other couples have, so you’re already racking your brain for an excuse when you feel Ben looking at you.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, keeping his gaze locked to yours, and your stomach flips as you realize he’s asking for your consent.

The rest of the world seems to cease to exist for a moment. You can’t hear the camera flashes or see the dozens of people watching you. Everything disappears except Ben, and his lips that are dangerously close to kissing yours should you give him permission.

Once again, your feelings overtake your common sense, and your head is nodding before your brain can catch up.

Your eyes shut on reflex as Ben presses his lips to yours.

It’s the most amazing kiss of your life.

His lips are soft and warm and they mold so seamlessly against yours, like they were sculpted for this very purpose.

It only lasts a moment, but it’s long enough to know that you could spend the rest of eternity kissing him.

When you slowly open your eyes, the look on Ben’s face snaps you out of your idyllic trance and brings you crashing back down to reality.

His eyes are wide, and he looks a bit like he’s seen a ghost. While you were fantasizing about what could be, he appears uncomfortable. Ashamed, even.

Of course he is. You’ve just kissed the man you love, but he’s just kissed his platonic best friend as part of an elaborate PR scheme.

You’ve been living in a fairytale, getting swept up in a world where you are Ben’s girlfriend and his feelings for you are genuine, but it’s not real.

It never will be.

“I-I have to go,” you mutter quietly, shaking your head as you pull away from his embrace.

Your vision goes a bit blurry as you desperately look for an exit, brushing past Mason as he tries to ask if you’re okay and marching toward the door.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You can hear Ben’s voice as you walk quickly through the tunnels of Wembley, trying to find your way to the street so you can get an Uber and get out of there.

“Y/N, please stop and just talk to me for a minute!”

You begin to jog away in your desperation to avoid speaking to him right now, but you realize it’s not very realistic that you’re going to outrun a professional footballer, so you stop when you hear him getting closer.

“Ben, just let me go,” you sigh in exasperation.

He’s looking at you with wide eyes, and when he reaches out to touch your arm, you recoil from him.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Ben insists. “Are you upset that I kissed you? I thought you were saying you were okay with it, or else I never would have-“

“It’s fine, Ben, I just can’t do this anymore,” you say, trying to get the words out quickly so he doesn’t hear your voice tremble. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do what?” he questions. “You mean…this? The plan?”

You nod and watch Ben’s face fall in disappointment. Despite how your heart is aching right now, you still feel terrible for letting him down. All you ever wanted was to help him, and now your stupid feelings have gone and messed everything up.

“I’m sorry, Ben, I can’t,” you say, clenching your jaw to keep from crying. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” he says again, voice softer this time as he reaches out to grab your hand. “Please tell me what happened. Did I do something?”

It hurts you to see him so distraught over upsetting you when he doesn’t know the reason why, when his only crime is making you fall in love with him.

“Nothing happened,” you insist, once again pulling away from his touch even though it feels like cutting off a limb. “I just need some space and everything be fine, I promise.”

You turn to walk away from him with tears streaming down your face, knowing that for the first time in your life, you’ve made a promise to him you’re not sure you can keep.

a/n: let me know what you thought!!! your comments/asks make my day! tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe @batmansb1tch @ncentic @myheartgoesvroom @chillymountsjess @babygirlbenji @delicateearthquakellama @joyfullyswimmingface @xxenia14 @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @chilwellspulisic @maraudersmap123 (let me know if you would like to be added or if i missed you!)

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #this love

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nehime · 2 months

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❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ❞

Summary. Both lovers, depressed, not even happy with their relationship, still knowing they love each other. Maybe they should give up and love each other in the fog.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. angst, hurt/no comfort

You remember what your best friend said to you last month. She apprised you that he didn’t love you nor that he would ever love you. “Don’t believe in his stupid statement. He can’t even stay with a girl for 2 months trust me.” That’s what she had said. But you wanted to give it a chance. You told her you craved for love. You told her you could fix him. Well more like he ruined you.

You were laying on your bed, shivering because of the coldness. You didn’t even bother to cover yourself with your duvet. It was a tiring day, and you did not expect Geto to be home, like always. You just went to your bedroom and slept peacefully. It was almost midnight when Geto came home. You weren’t a heavy sleeper so you woke up due to the sounds of door locks. A tall, long haired silhouette stood in front of you, worn out guise lacing his face, dark circles around his eyes. “You’re home..pretty late” you uttered as you took a look to the time. “Yeah, were you sleeping all day?” That damn feeling in your gut when Geto spoke those words. Guilty feelings hovered over your head and heart, aching your soul.

He was a busy man. Geto is supposed to take care of the ceo position when his dad retires. It’s his duty after all. During his university days he was never this busy. Being the unstoppable friends with Satoru, having girls hovering over him, changing them like his brand new clothes. Now that he is in a genuine relationship with you, he’s more of a gentleman, yes you can agree with that. But still you longed for his love and care. You yearned for him. Sometimes you would just want to give up on everything and leave your country, your hometown. With or without Geto.

“Did you eat? Want me to make something for you to eat? I know it’s late but i could make you a meal” Concern took over you as you stood up and ran quickly towards the kitchen. “Y/n it’s okay.” he says calmly, resting his head on the headboard. “What do you mean it’s okay? I’ll make something quic—”

“—I said it’s okay.” He declared harshly, slapping you with his words. “Let’s talk about us” You were not feeling well anymore, his words hit you firmly in the stomach. You slowly exhaled as you walked up to Geto, taking a seat beside him. “Go on” you gave him the permission to start the talk. “Do you think i’m giving you the affection and the attention you deserve?” no. “Do you think i’m loving you right?” no. “Do you think the care i have for you is enough?” still no. You were tearful as he brushed your hair with his fingers, leaning to kiss you. “And do you want me to stay with you after all of this?” yes. No matter how much you missed for his company, you still didn’t want him to leave you.

“No.” You fought back with your heart to get those rough words out. You just wanted to live happily with an loving partner that cares for you. Never him. “That’s all i needed to know” You could see the bold thwarted and hurt feelings in his deep eyes. Making you sob and bawl your eyes. You loved him too much it’s menacing. He stood up and went over to the doorstep. “You’re leaving?” You utterly reached for his hand, standing in the dim light of the room. He snatched his coat and got ready to leave. “Sometimes lovers give up when they’re too deep in love” That’s all he had said before leaving you, standing there, sobbing and screaming his name for the rest of the night. He was surely never coming back.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x reader #geto suguru jjk #geto suguru angst #jjk angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk fanfic #nenes.works✧.*

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leveloneandup · 9 months

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Extra Time: Two World Cup Champs Aren’t Scared of the Dutch

Holland day

So, two-time World Cup champion Christen Press, what scares you about the Netherlands, America’s second-round opponent at this 2023 World Cup? The U.S. Women’s National Team (USWNT) will face the Orange Lionesses tonight at 9 p.m. E.T. in New Zealand's capital city of Wellington.

Press, who won titles in 2015 and 2019 as a forward for the U.S. but recently underwent a fourth surgery to repair the knee preventing her from playing in this World Cup, is mildly offended by this question. “As soon as you say, ‘What scares you,’ I took that as a player,” Press says. “And I’m like, ‘Nothing scares me.” Press, 34, laughs. “OK, go ahead, Tobin …"

As in Tobin Heath, who’s also on this call—and was also on the 2015 and 2019 USWNT World Cup teams (in addition to the 2011 one)—and has also won a pair of World Cup titles, in 2015 and 2019 with the USWNT. Like Press, Heath, 35, has been sidelined due to injury. So I called on the duo—who are among the founders of the lifestyle brand RE-INC, often finish each other’s sentences, and are co-hosting an excellent podcast and YouTube program during the World Cup called The RE-CAP Show—to break down the U.S.-Netherlands matchup.

Heath agrees with Press. She doesn’t find the Dutch all that frightening. “The Dutch are a good team,” says Heath. “They're not a great team in this tournament.” Heath concedes that the Dutch are the best team in the USWNT’s group, which also includes Vietnam—whom the U.S. defeated 3-0 on Friday in the World Cup opener—and Portugal. “Outside of us,” Press chimes in.

“Outside of us, yes,” says Heath.

Yes, U.S.-Netherlands is a rematch of the 2019 World Cup final. But Heath cautions against reading too much into that. “There were a ton of better teams we played in 2019,” says Heath. She and Press point to games against Spain in the Round of 16, France—in France—in the quarters, and England in the semis as much tougher tests. The U.S. won those games 2-1, but shut out the Netherlands, 2-0, in the title game. “We always say our final was one of the easier games for us,” says Heath.

What’s more, the Dutch—who beat Portugal 1-0 in their World Cup opener—are down a superstar. Vivianne Miedema, the country’s all-time leading goal scorer, is missing this World Cup due to an ACL tear. “We don’t have to significantly adjust what we’re doing in order to take care of an individual player,” says Heath. “I don’t think they can do much damage to us.”

The one Netherlands player Heath mentioned in our conversation as a threat to watch—striker Lineth Beerensteyn—is now unlikely to play, because of an ankle injury she suffered against Portugal. Heath notes that the Dutch have a solid aerial presence off set pieces. And the Orange Lionesses could exploit the tendency of U.S. outside defenders Crystal Dunn and Emily Fox to play “inverted” positions—meaning they sometimes serve more as midfielders, moving into more centralized spaces on the pitch, getting involved in short passes on the attack. That strategy can leave the U.S. defense susceptible to Dutch counterattacks out wide. “You are leaving a big area to exploit,” says Heath.

Still, the former USWNT players aren’t all that worried. If anything, this is a huge opportunity for the Americans to make a statement. Germany made its mark, with a 6-0 crushing of Morocco. Brazil cast itself a real threat, with its 4-0 opening game victory over Panama. Spain beat Zambia 5-0 on Tuesday. “There’s a few teams that are like, we’re here,” says Heath. “We didn’t have that game against Vietnam. We can have that game against the Netherlands, if we want. I don’t see there being any reason why we can’t.”

~~~

Parting thought

Since they’ve played in past tournaments, I asked Heath and Press what it’s like for players at the World Cup between games. The U.S. did travel from Auckland to Wellington in the five days between its matchups against Vietnam and the Netherlands. Still, that’s plenty of downtime.

Enough to make you go stir-crazy?

“It’s almost like surrealism,” says Press. “The days are a little gray and foggy. You almost can’t remember. You’re very careful with when you look at your phone and who you even connect with. Or how much you walk. Your whole life is bubble-wrapped. Every second of the day. And then you have to go out and do this incredibly physical and risky and hard and emotionally draining thing. And then you just are bubble-wrapped again.”

“We sit around and talk and try to get a little bit of relief. It's this incredibly difficult experience to explain. You're with the only people in the world that get it. And that creates a bond with every single player I've played with in a world championship that's unlike any other. Because there's this respect. There's this knowingness. You don't even have to say anything and you know what's going on with your teammates.”

“We eat too many meals. We’re really just trying to fuel, fuel, fuel. And we talk and we laugh and we make it to the next game.”

#christen press #tobin heath #wwc 2023 #uswnt #uswnt vs netherlands #article

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luaveltarot · 1 year

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Puzzle pieces that describe your future spouse-

Pick a snap

(1-4 from left to right)

CALM AND CENTRED

Casual

Reputed

Cyclical, someone with whom you shared on and off, highs and lows of life

Crush

Frank, candid or open during conversations

Like to paint, an artist

Does not believe in organised traditions or religions

Peaceful

Craiova

Profession- Doctor, Nutritionist, Gym trainer,Banker, Finance manager and Mathematics teacher.

Quotes -

“Everything is better with you, everything has been better since you.”

“Your eyes stole all my words away.”

2. STRONG AND RESILIENT

Like to try different cuisines

Countryside, rural place

Biblical

Cardinal sign (Aries, cancer, libra and Capricorn) Rising

Clever and intelligent, notices the minutes

French, Mexican, German and Irish

Crazy

Brandon Crandall (name could resonate for a few)

Grandma vibes (ik it’s weird but it could mean that they are worse beyond their age)

Meet him when he’s burning junk

Praised by people

Quotes-

“You are my favourite feeling.”

“No relationship is all sunshine but two people can share one umbrella and survive storms.”

3. SAFE AND PROTECTED

Tan skin (caramel)

Into high brands, buys a lot of things from statement brands

Heavenly voice

Beaming personality

Logical

6th house energy; good routine, fitness and healthy diet.

Balance personality

No expectations from others, set boundaries

Pink

Penguin, gentle, loyal creatures who are devoted to their mates

Bachelor

Juno energy, wants to commit for the long haul and fiercely loyal

Aquarius Venus

Quotes-

“I just want to be loved and f***ed by you. For the rest of my life.”

“I’m a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind and high standards. I want to be treated like a lady in public, ravaged in private and wooed for eternity.”

4. MAKE A WISH

Travel (profession related tours)

Libra mercury

Loves their sister

Words meet their action. What they say, they do.

Active (also I’m getting strong arms and legs)

Bull(could be a taurus), protective, patient and will compromise for you

Currently they are not in a good position mentally, something holds them back from being the best version of themselves

Six number

Buddhist bell; signifies wisdom and skilful

Morning person

Quotes-

“No matter what the day brought for us. I want you to know that I’m always here for you to share your worries celebrate your victories and just talk. Sweet dreams my love!”

“It’s the connection we can’t explain.”

#tarot #divination #tarot reading #witch #witchy #future spouse #tarot witch #spiritual #pac #pick a pile #pick an image

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astralissas · 2 months

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Sacrifice (1)

Series Summary: Daughter of notorious Death Eater, Corban Yaxley, and best friend to the Weasley twins, you find yourself dragged into the Second Wizarding War pledged to a side you'd vowed never to support. But all will be justifiable if it means you can protect the ones you love -- at any and all costs.

Pairing: George Weasley x Yaxley Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: None Yet

Series Masterlist

“It’s getting close.” The voice of your mother carried out of the bedroom door, making its way to where you were huddled against the wall.

“I know.” Your father’s baritone voice replied. You knew without peeking in that they were speaking of the mark tattooed upon your father’s forearm. You’d heard it said time and time again from those who passed through your house; the same words uttered in different ways -- “It’s becoming clearer”, or “It’s nearing”. The statements were nearly always accompanied with varying degrees of frightened tones, but not your father’s. He spoke matter-of-factly, determined.

“What will we do with her?” Your mother’s voice rose to a sneer as she spoke about you, “The Dark Lord will not be pleased with us given her…present company.”

“We cannot control our children. The Dark Lord is all too aware of that.” Your father replied. “As for her, I think her present position may be beneficial.” You heard your mother’s hum, intrigued, but at that same moment, you heard your father stand, forcing you to slide down the hallway and back to your room, now out of earshot of their conversation.

You shut the door behind yourself silently, sinking down onto your bed. You’d grown adept at sneaking around, between the covert meetings at your house and constant company with the Weasley twins. The thought of the twins brought a smile to your face, and you glanced at the photo framed on the table beside your bed -- the only personal item you’d bothered to leave out when you’d packed your trunk in anticipation for today.

The photo, taken during your first year, showed a shorter, younger version of yourself squished between the gangly red-headed brothers, the three of you glancing between one-another and laughing. You could still recall the day that you met the Weasley twins. You were a measly eleven years old, feeling both downright terrified and intensely relieved to begin your education. You’d sat on the train with Pucey and Montague, just like your parents insisted, and watched as they were sorted into Slytherin, to the surprise of none. So when the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, and, after a slight deliberation, had bellowed, “Gryffindor!”, dread immediately pooled in your stomach, along with the knowledge that you had just been branded to be the black sheep of the family.

You made your way to the Gryffindor table in silence, feeling as though you couldn’t take a deep breath. The two red-headed twins waved you over to their bench with matching smiles, paying no mind to your last name, nor the shocked glares coming from the table across the room.

The twins had been a saving grace, honestly. They’d jumped on top of the Howler that arrived a few days later, attempting to muffle the shrieks of your mother, “Disgrace!” “Traitorous!”, or the disappointed lilt of your father, “We just can’t understand how this could happen.” They’d told you the most absurd jokes to chase away the frowns that came after a run-in with Slytherins where the words “blood traitor” echoed in your ears. They’d even opened their home when you became too much of a shame to your family.

That was where you’d spent the last two glorious summers -- The Burrow. Warm days filled with de-gnoming the gardens, tidying the house, swimming in the pond, watching from the ground as the twins looped around the orchard on their brooms, and sneaking into their room late at night to help them fiddle their way through an ever-growing list of new experiments. It was how you’d planned to spend this summer, until an owl arrived from your parents at the end of last term informing you that they anticipated your return to the family manor, for the first time in three years.

Your reunion was filled with indifference so cold that you wondered why they’d even bothered to summon you home in the first place. You’d secluded yourself to your room, finishing summer schoolwork in the span of a week, and only creeping out at dreaded mealtimes, or worse, when the families came to visit.

Your home was a revolving door of pure-blood families. Although always stiff and unpleasant, the air of fear was new and palpable each time the adults visited, rushing into your father’s study and hurriedly closing the doors behind them. When not forced to sit in tense silence with the children of the other families, you tested out a set of hearing devices which you had worked with the twins on developing during the previous school year. They were faulty though; at best emitting only blips of your father’s conversations while, the remainder of the time, spitting out a horrible crackling sound that left your ears ringing.

You could only handle so much of the reclusivity before you snapped, demanding that your parents allow you to go to the Burrow, like every other summer. After a long yelling match during which your mother had gotten so angry that her wand erupted a vicious fireball that had scorched the walls, your father had finally agreed that you could go, only, as he pointedly said, because the holiday was nearing its end.

You spent the remainder of the morning watching as the rays of sun crept through your window and counting down the hours until the Weasley’s were expecting you. There wasn’t much to pack when you’d never truly unpacked to begin with, but you had carefully stown the photo between a few pairs of robes, and dressed for the day when the clock finally struck ten.

Your parents were waiting for you near the fireplace, where one of your house elves had carefully stacked your trunk. You grabbed the handle of the trunk and tugged it with you as you made your way toward the Floo Powder. “Well,” You said lamely, even more eager to escape the tense atmosphere than you had been prior, now that the comfort of the Burrow was so nearly in your grasp.

“Wait,” Your father grabbed your forearm in a bruising grip, forcing you to meet his eyes. He paused before speaking as he always did; finally beginning, “This year is going to be immensely important in your…education.” You tilted your head, brows furrowing together. Since you’d been sorted into Gryffindor, your parents had been indifferent about your schooling. “The Tri-Wi--”

“Corban!” Your mother hissed, and your father spared her a glance before turning his attention back to you.

“We believe an event will occur. An event in which you must seek to assist in any way you can.” The urgency in his eyes paired with the death grip on your forearm only enhanced your desire to get to the Burrow, so you shook off his convoluted warning without much thought.

You yanked your arm from his grip. “Uh, right.”

“I mean it, Y/N.” Your father stepped nearer to the fireplace. “We’ve been far too lenient with you. You will not continue to disgrace this family name further.”

Your mother joined him, laying a hand on his shoulder and adding, “We will not allow it.”

Unsure of how to reply, you opted for no reply at all, taking a handful of Floo Powder in one hand, and your trunk in the other. You stepped fully into the fireplace, casting one last glance at your parents before dropping the powder and calling for the Burrow.

Immediately, you were engulfed in the emerald flames as you began spinning, keeping a tight hold on your trunk. You squeezed your eyes shut and waited -- there was a reason you preferred to be in the stands during Quidditch matches. Finally, the rotations slowed, and you stumbled to the ground atop your trunk in the Weasley’s kitchen, inhaling the smell of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, mingled with clean laundry and a fresh breeze floating in from the open window.

“Hello -- oh, dear.” Mrs. Weasley hurried to help you to your feet, brushing soot off your shoulders. Her face twisted to a grimace as she glanced at your trunk, but she schooled it quickly, bringing you into a warm hug before pulling back. “Lunch will be ready in a bit.” She said kindly, “The boys have been waiting for you all morning. So incessantly that I’ve banned them outside.” She nodded out the door with a knowing smirk.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” You said, reaching for your trunk to drop into Ginny's room before she stopped you, shaking her head. You beamed, basking in the familiarity of the Burrow, and finally feeling settled for the first time since the end of the previous school year. “I’m happy to be back.”

“We’re happy to have you back, dear.” She returned the sentiment just as warmly before shooing you out the kitchen door and into the yard, where you could spot two heads of flaming hair lounging in the warmth of the summer sun.

George was the first to spot you, jumping up from his position to envelop you in his arms, lifting you from the ground. He’d hardly set you down before Fred swept in for the same signature greeting. A giggle bubbled from your mouth, feeling the weight that’d been on your shoulders since the start of the holiday lift.

“It’s been a dull summer round here without you.” Fred said as soon as he’d set you down. You smiled in agreement, realizing that the few weeks spent at the family manor was the longest you and the twins had been apart since you’d gone to your parents for the summer holiday after Third Year. “Want a toffee?” Fred proceeded to offer, holding out a brightly colored wrapper.

“C’mon Fred, you should know better.” You laughed, settling yourself next to George on the grass, who was shaking his head, “It hasn’t been that long.”

Fred shrugged, sitting on your other side. “It was worth a try, anyway. We need a tester.”

“Preferably someone we don’t like.” George emphasized with a glare at Fred.

“Isn’t your dad picking up Harry today from his Muggles?” You inquired. Having heard plenty from Ron about the abuse Harry sustained, particularly at the hands of his cousin, Dudley, it was quite obvious who the tester should be.

“Only dad and Ron, though.” Fred responded.

You shrugged, “Just ask to go with.”

A smile crept across George’s features as he caught onto your plan, “Hasn’t Ron said Harry’s cousin is a bit of a pig?” Fred, too, smiled as he caught onto George’s wavelength. The twins were brilliant in their own right, but they had a habit of missing the answer that was right in front of them, too caught up in their thoughts and creations. You knew what awaited Dudley, having helped the twins with the engorgement charm yourself, and you felt a sense of giddiness as you looked forward to hearing about it in action.

Being back at the Burrow, with the twins, it finally felt as if everything was right. The sun was bright, warming your skin; such a stark contrast against the cold manor from which you’d come, where the curtains were often pulled taut, settling a gloom over everything. The hushed tones of the manor were the polar opposite of the twin’s excited voices which they fought to keep quiet as they updated you on the progress they’d made with the newly dubbed Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

“But Mum came in to clean our room last week and found the order forms.” Fred went on with a pointed look at his brother, “George didn’t put them away.”

“Well, I didn’t think she’d come snooping!” George defended.

“Oh come off it,” Fred argued, “You knew she’d be tidying with Bill and Charlie staying in there.”

George opened his mouth, ready with a retort, before you cut him off, “Well, either way, you’re lucky I have the order forms and products you sent me last month in my trunk.” You shrugged, going on, “I’m sure you’d made developments since then, but better than starting from scratch.”

“Have I ever told you how absolutely wonderful you are?” Fred charmed.

“Splendid,” George agreed with a vehement nod.

***

Much like many of your other cohorts with the twins, you really hadn’t considered the consequences beforehand. But now, facing a fuming Mrs. Weasley -- who was much, much more frightening than a few detentions, an owl home, and the disappointed cadence of Professor Dumbledore -- you were truly wishing you’d thought this one through.

“The potential of you two!” Mrs. Weasley was roaring at the twins. She’d been cross with the three of you before, but you’d never seen her like this -- eyes sparking with anger, face increasing in shade until it nearly matched her hair. You wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d begun spitting fire with how riled up she was. “And yet you sit around putting your talents to waste on ridiculous, miniscule little pranks!”

“Just because we don’t want to sit around some dull office and measure cauldron thickness…” Fred mumbled under his breath.

“Perfect Percy.” George followed up in a mocking tone.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of you!” Mrs. Weasley snapped before continuing on her rampage. The tongue-lashing continued on for a few minutes but, when Mrs. Weasley finally allowed the three of you to depart, she was still far from satiated. You expect the reprimand would still be ongoing, had Mr. Weasley not cut in and reminded her, with a wink shot to the three of you, that she’d wanted to get supper out before the sun set.

“So, you think You-Know-Who is rising again?” Fred whispered incredulously once you all were outside, away from any prying ears that may overhear.

You shrugged, “I mean, he must be. Why else would the Marks be darkening?”

“But it makes no sense.” George muttered, “Harry defeated him, what, fourteen years ago? Why come back now?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure. I gleaned all the information I could before those Extendable Ears went faulty.”

Fred’s eye twitched in annoyance -- the three of you had been trying to pinpoint the error in the Extendable Ears for months now to no avail. Your conversation was cut short, however, by a loud clanging noise. The eldest Weasley’s had engaged the dinner tables in a midair battle.

By the time the tables were settled on the ground, and loaded with a feast, you found yourself seated next to George -- “No, no, Y/N” Fred had insisted when you suggested he sit next to his twin, “I’d much rather sit over here next to Charlie.” Fred had patted Charlie jovially on the shoulder who, in turn, shot George a smirk while you settled bemusedly into your seat.

As always, Mrs. Weasley’s cooking was phenomenal, and you found yourself listening to the animated debate the twins and Charlie were engaging in regarding their speculated outcome of the Quidditch World Cup the following day. The sun had set and the candles were burning low as you glanced at the twin beside you.

The twins had always been popular at Hogwarts. At first, it seemed everyone simply appreciated the boys’ humor -- their ability to make nearly anyone laugh. But, as the years went on, their athleticism on the Quidditch pitch and agreed-upon good looks had led to them acquiring more than a few admirers.

You’d certainly be lying if you said you’d never looked at the twins that way -- one more than the other. You stole a look at George -- his hair had grown out slightly in the time you’d been apart, hanging over his ears now. His nose and cheeks were tinged red from the summer sun, and you knew the burn would fade into freckles in a few days. You averted your eyes before they could fall lower and linger on his lips.

Just a friend. You reminded yourself -- a mantra you’d had to chant to yourself for the last few years. But, as Mrs. Weasley sent everyone to bed, and George laughed at something Fred muttered to Harry, your mantra went out the window. You were so screwed.

#george weasley x reader

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rainbowsky · 1 year

Text

GG Esquire Cover Story

A lot of people have written me about the cover story GG did for Esquire magazine. There have been some interesting responses in my inbox, many of which have baffled me a bit, to be honest.

People have asked me for my thoughts on it all, so here they are! 😊

I've been picking away at this for ages, sorry it's coming so far after publication of the article. I have a few things like this in my drafts that are taking me a while to finish writing. I don't have the sustained resources to work on things for very long at a stretch these days.

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an OPINION piece - my take on the article. I have no special insight, and everyone is free to form their own perspectives and responses. Don't take what I say as fact. It's just one opinion among many.

The photos

I have to start out by talking about the photos, because they truly set the tone for (and perfectly illustrate) the article.

These are not the typical magazine spread photos that a lot of fans are used to seeing. Here GG is practically unstyled. The GG you would see in his downtime. His hair is tousled, his clothing is very casual. His poses are also very casual. He looks like he could be just hanging around his hotel room scrolling through his phone.

These photos are such a gift. They feel so fresh and candid and relaxed. Total Boy Next Door. I absolutely love them.

What a relief to see these photos. Nothing ostentatious or overstyled, nothing aggressively brand-forward (some of what he is wearing is his own personal clothing). Just GG. I nearly fainted. 😅

The article

The original article can be found here, and there is a fan translation here.

My relief in seeing these sweet, casual photos of GG was matched only by my relief in reading the article.

To be honest I'm rarely very excited about the sorts of interviews or stories that accompany these types of magazine covers. They are generally fan servicey puff pieces that cater to a certain type of reader - the kind of people who want to become more invested in an idol fantasy.

They tend to be fairly overtly PR pieces, aimed at positioning the idol in an appealing and often romantic, personable way that makes them more accessible to their fans.

I have often been dismissive of interview statements that other fans have taken to heart, which has caused some friction at times, but what can I say? I think a lot of what's typically covered is awkward, fake and fan servicey. I talk a little bit about that in this post.

I didn't go into reading this article with any particular expectation, except that my expectations were low and I wasn't expecting any surprises. But, much to my surprise, I found a smart, interesting, poetic, uncompromising look at a side of GG that we've rarely seen.

My biggest takeaway from this article was that GG wanted to dampen, rather than fan the flames of, fan fantasies about him; to give people a more realistic sense of who he is and what he's about.

I have rarely been prouder of him than when reading this article. It feels like with this interview he is setting boundaries and putting his honest self forward despite expectations and even demands about who he should be and what he should represent.

Sidebar Rant About Fan Culture

Sometimes I see GG's life as being like an episode of Black Mirror. He is a protagonist who has been strangled by his own fame, in some ways held hostage by people who believe that they made him who he is and put him where he is (despite the role they've frequently played in holding him back).

The situation for stars at his level is pretty crazy. Fans genuinely believe that they know better than their idols what is best for them and their careers, and they will - totally unironically and with a straight face - deliver lists of demands and conditions to their idol and their idol's management team that they expect to be met if the star hopes to maintain their love and support.

These demands can be quite detailed. How they want the management team to be structured, the types of projects they want the artist to take, the types of statements they want their idol to make, etc. It's insane.

And GG's fans have been especially difficult, because they are very deeply invested in old school ideas about fan culture that are no longer viable in the current climate. Pushing traffic, 'comment control' and 'clarification' (aka fan wars), attacking anyone they perceive to be a rival or opportunist or anyone they believe isn't treating GG how they think he should be treated (despite having no access whatsoever to verified information about how he's being treated - i.e. it's all based on their assumptions). Using dirty - even dangerous - tactics to try to harm rival fandoms, regardless of how much that puts GG at risk.

Despite the fact that their behavior has caused problems for him in the past. Despite the fact that he has repeatedly begged them to stop behaving the way they do. Despite the fact that his career has nearly been killed by this type of behavior. Despite the fact that there has been a seismic shift in how fan culture is being treated in China, and despite the policies that have been put in place to curtail some of that behavior. They just don't seem to have gotten the memo.

They have learned absolutely nothing from their past mistakes.

Increasingly, they do not seem to have his deeper interests at heart. At times they appear to be supporting him for their own vanity, clout and sense of accomplishment rather than genuinely loving him for who he is. They seem to take more pride in their ability to bring traffic, out-vote other fandoms and move brand merchandise than in who this sweet, smart man is and what he does.

They actively push some of the most toxic, hateful ideas you can find in fandom. They are some of the key drivers behind the whole 'desperate illiterate' hate campaign against DD, and in so doing put both GG and DD's careers at risk. They are constantly spreading hate and lies about DD and trying to bring scandal upon him. Any time an anti-DD campaign surfaces online, they jump on it and fuel it to the best of their ability.

These are people who have had so many opportunities to grow and change, and emulate GG's kindness and maturity, but have repeatedly failed the assignment.

Being a star can't be easy

I often wonder how GG really feels about his fans. How much of the fan culture mayhem he's fed up with, and how much of it he's taken in stride as part of the job. I know it drives me crazy, but he's obviously got a better perspective on it all and would be a lot more accustomed to it all.

As I said in a previous post, I think we need to treat the idea that he absolutely adores his fans with some degree of skepticism. There's a very real noose around his neck, and that can't feel great. I personally believe he wants to loosen that hold a bit.

With this article GG seems to be saying, "Here I am. Support me or move on, but this is the real me."

He seems to be setting some boundaries and giving fans a glimpse behind the curtain at the real him. He is challenging them to accept him for who he really is, or move on.

I feel like he is taking cautious steps toward loosening some of the stranglehold fans have over his career.

GG is a smart, savvy person. I have no doubt that he is well aware of the assumptions about him. I don't think it was an accident that this interview broke down some of those assumptions.

I love him so much. He continually blows me away with how sharp and tough he is.

Disillusionment and growth

Of course, that's not the entire story of the article. There is some alienation and loneliness here. Frustration and struggle with identity.

One of the most powerful lines in the entire article was when he said that he works for this Xiao Zhan guy as well. When he talks about not knowing anymore which GG is real and which is the persona.

"There are two Xiao Zhans, one of them is here, that’s me. There is another Xiao Zhan, the Xiao Zhan in quotes, but he is probably not me anymore. We are all working for him, including myself."

I admit I was surprised by how fractured he sounded. Not surprised that some of this has happening - that is totally to be expected given his fame - but surprised that he'd talk so openly about it. He's not normally so candid about his personal experience of fame, or about its emotional/psychological impacts on him. In his post-2/27 interviews he brushed off any notion of the emotional burden it was placing on him, for example, even though it would have been understandable had he admitted it.

What stands out to me in all of this is how powerfully he is distancing himself from his idol image and showing a mature, serious, in many ways ordinary person. How boldly he is reminding the audience that there is more to him than meets the eye.

Some might read that as cynical and jaded - the star who is playing the game by performing a role that's separate from himself. I read it as the opposite. I read it as self-actualizing and self-preserving. He doesn't believe his own hype. He is just doing a job, working for this persona, while maintaining his own integrity and independence despite all the pressure to perform and be perfect.

The mountain was such a powerful image. Climbing the mountain as a child and seeing it as this nearly insurmountable ordeal, and then later as an adult feeling like he can take a couple of long strides and be at the top. It is such a metaphor for his career and his success. And that speaks of a certain amount of demystification and disillusionment surrounding his dreams.

It was reminiscent of the line, "Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true" from The Circle Game by Joni Mitchell.

Certain jobs, when taken on, become something completely different from what we thought we signed up for.

I have often been asked why I don't open a restaurant. I always jokingly give them this very earnest and serious answer, "Because I like to cook."

If I were to open a restaurant, food would be among the least of my concerns every day. I would have to deal with marketing, I would have to deal with staff and the day-to-day running of the facility, supplies, vendor relationships, finances and management. Food would be very low on the list of things I'd have time to concern myself with.

I feel like the same has happened for GG. He thought he was becoming a singer or an actor, when it turns out he was becoming a celebrity instead. Those are totally different jobs, with totally different demands, activities and limitations.

He enjoys taking on new roles and learning new things and expanding on his skills and working on interesting projects. I doubt very much that he enjoys managing a persona, or navigating fan expectations, or addressing yet another fan-created scandal. I doubt very much he enjoys being held to the standards the top traffic star position puts him under. I doubt he enjoys the restrictions it places on his career or on his personal life.

I doubt he enjoys the limitations on what he is able to show of himself in that job.

Having the kind of job where you have to hang up your personality at the door like an overcoat every day when you walk in - that's a lonely, lonely world to be in. Soul-destroying.

I have long felt that this situation isn't sustainable for GG over the long term. I have wondered what he will do to shift things into a more comfortable, more stable existence for himself. I feel like this article gives me some ideas about that. And it is a relief to read because I get the sense that he is fully aware of that problem, and working to address it for himself so that he can continue doing what he most enjoys - acting and performing.

We have all had these theories - I'm sure most of us have, anyway - that he is trying to shed the idol image, the 'traffic star' image at least to some degree so that he can be accepted as a serious actor with a serious career.

This is a common career path for idols who want to stay in the industry past their idol shelf life. But it's one thing to believe GG might be working on that, and another to feel like I can see him taking brave steps in that direction.

Some surprises, some not

There were some things that surprise me from this interview, and some things that I was not surprised by.

One thing that really stood out to me is how much his real personality shines through. The smart, witty, intense GG we've all seen in The Untamed BTS and in some of his XNINE activities. It was a surprise. I guess I was expecting to see the persona GG - not the real GG. It was so good to see him that I nearly got choked up.

This is the GG that is very no bullshit; blunt and honest. This was the GG who outed DD for using his own meme pictures or for sending him too many selfies. This is the GG who firmly stated he wanted the het scenes deleted. The GG who was very forthright, clever and affectionately prickly with his XNINE brothers.

GG has said in the past that he is not as sweet and sentimental as his fans think he is, that behind the scenes he can actually be ruthless and demanding. This is the GG we've caught glimpses of and that he is talking about in that statement. The real, unvarnished GG.

I didn't dare hope that he would be so candid. He is usually so image-conscious. Not 'fake' by any means, but conscious of how he is coming across and careful not to offend. But in this article he has brought himself unapologetically to the forefront and for that I love and applaud him.

Another surprise for me was when he was talking about how he handles his inner struggles. I was surprised when he said that he doesn't like to talk through his problems. I had always assumed that - as a very authentic, emotionally intelligent, compassionate, personable person - he would be the kind of guy who would reach out to others during times of need.

Instead he said that he doesn't like to talk about his issues. He had such clear and rational explanations for why that even though I can't relate to his approach, I can understand it. This approach can be interpreted as self-contained, self-sufficient and pragmatic. 'If it can be fixed, fix it. If it can't, set it aside. No point talking about it.'

There's something very Zen about letting go of what you can't immediately change, rather than dwelling on it or digging into ruminations about it.

I also found his rationale for avoiding other people's confidences interesting. He 'doesn't want to be a suspect', he 'doesn't want to be burdened by other people's secrets'. I can definitely see how his approach could prevent people from getting caught up in each other's drama, and his mindset reflects healthy boundaries that can help preserve friendships.

I can see GG's characteristic cautious self-protectiveness in this approach. He's smart, strategic and - based on many things he's said in this interview - quite introverted. This approach serves all those aspects of his personality.

There's that old saying, "loose lips sink ships" and that is especially true for someone so much in the public eye. It's good that he has the sense to keep his mouth shut about personal things.

There is wisdom to that approach. It reminds me of the old nursery rhyme about the owl:

A wise old owl sat in an oak, The more he heard, the less he spoke; The less he spoke, the more he heard; Why can't we be more like that wise old bird?

Having said all that, I don't personally share the same view or the same approach in my own life. I am very much someone who likes to talk things through, and who likes to be a listening ear and a support to others as well.

I think there is a lot to be said for the way this type of communication can deepen relationships, help people better understand each other and become more bonded. Sharing burdens, sharing feelings, sharing confidences. It's riskier but the rewards can be significant.

A lot of the biggest problems in the world come from lack of communication or from crossed wires. Talking with others face to face is a great way to clear up confusion and help people stay connected and bonded.

Being the sort of person people can confide in and who talks about things that are on my mind - this really enriches my life. Although I feel like GG has done a great job of making his approach make sense to me, and even seem appealing in ways.

I want to caution people from over-interpreting these statements from him to assuming GG is uncommunicative with DD. As someone who lives with a partner who is exactly like GG when it comes to 'talking about things', I think it's highly likely that GG has a different approach with those few people who are closest to him. There's a pretty big difference between being emotionally and socially open with friends and colleagues, and being emotional and intimate with a partner.

An ordinary boy

The article focuses a lot on his childhood and some of the nostalgia and memories of his past. It's so interesting and illuminating to read about where he came from, and about the parts of that ordinary boy that survived through to adulthood. The geography of the city and the buildings are used as a metaphor for the changes in his life.

He started out in the factory district, in low grey concrete buildings full of vibrancy and activity, passed through a rainy uphill commute and ended up among shining glass skyscrapers. What a journey he has been on, and he's only 31 years old!

The fact that he's been able to maintain his integrity and authenticity and avoid being devoured by the persona - that's such a testament to his character. He really is the whole package. Smart, strong, determined, sweet, compassionate, ruthless, creative, introspective, pragmatic, down-to-earth, cautious. I have always appreciated his breadth as a person. He is very multi-dimensional.

I've talked about that a bit in the past. It's part of why I feel so frustrated sometimes when fans have really shallow, superficial, fan-fictiony takes on his personality. The sweet, soft-hearted aesthete. The tragic beleaguered victim. The playful, cute, dorky romantic. The sexy, saucy, light-hearted, effeminate artist.

None of these takes can even scratch the surface of who he really is. The more I know about him the less I think I know, but I at least know one thing: he's so much more than fans give him credit for.

Florist GG AU

I wasn't remotely surprised to hear that he sometimes thinks of quitting. Even fans sometimes daydream about him quitting. Getting his life back, getting his freedom back. Living a quieter life. Surely there are many times when he is reminded of everything he is sacrificing to do what he does. Times when it feels like too high a price to pay.

But reading this article, I can honestly say that I feel he is up to the task he's taken on. He really does know who he is and what he wants, and he has all of the integrity, emotional and psychological strength to make the most of this career.

My hope that he will start to shed some of the toxic traffic fans and build a stronger, more enduring, more rational fanbase. That he will begin to break free of the shackles of stratospheric popularity and settle into a more stable, satisfying career as a respected actor.

AND SINGER. PLEASE GG! 🥹

It was such a great article, and I feel like I got a glimpse of something new about him that I did not know, which is so rare. I feel like I've been gifted more insight into him, and I have so much gratitude for his willingness to share that with us all.

Regarding candy

A few people wrote me in a big panic over 'what this article meant' for GG and DD's relationship. They had worked themselves up into a state where they felt that if GG and DD were in a relationship, GG wouldn't have said or felt the things he did in the article.

Glass-hearted turtles will need to transform themselves into tortoise-shelled turtles, or they will not survive this fandom. And frankly, those kinds of takes on things sometimes reflect a lack of life experience or realistic understanding of GG and DD as ordinary humans in a relationship.

Some turtles seem to view everything from or about GG and DD as either proof that they're a couple, or proof they are not, with no neutral content and no in betweens. In short, they look at everything GG and DD-related to see what kind of candy it is. And the thing they need to get through their heads is

👉🏻 almost nothing from or about GG or DD will actually be a candy. 👈🏻

Anyone who has ever been in a serious long term relationship knows, there's actually very little about our day-to-day lives that revolves around our partner. My interests and hobbies, most of my social interactions, certainly everything about my work has absolutely nothing to do with my partner. He almost never comes up as a topic or factor in any of it.

And yet we are happily married, and have been for a long time.

As I am frequently saying, GG and DD are individuals first, a couple second. We need to love and respect them in that same order.

This article is about GG and his career. It's an important article about his inner life experience as a celebrity. It has absolutely nothing to do with DD. I find it baffling why anyone would expect it to.

If you are looking for candy, most of the time you will find no candy. If that causes you pain, you are in the wrong fandom. GG and DD aren't here to give us candy. They aren't here to prove anything. Nor should we be. They don't owe us anything. Certainly not 'proof of life' in their relationship.

If you read that article and didn't get that message, then you missed the entire point of the article. GG was saying to everyone, "I'm not just what people think they see, I'm not just what people expect or what they want me to be, underneath I'm a real human being."

Turtles who remember that, and who are able to love GG and DD as individuals, will be longer-lived and happier.

GG and DD's relationship is for and about them. It exists for each other, not for us. I've no doubt they appreciate the love and support turtles give them, but it's not their job to feed us. It's not their job to be trained ponies prancing around for our amusement. They don't owe us anything. Certainly not any candy about their relationship.

More on fan expectations and black-and-white thinking here.

#ggdd interviews #king gg #personal #fandom reflections #solos belong to moling su sect

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