#especially since the first(?) time he did that shit it was towards two teenagers one of which was still in a relationship

[lestappenforever]

My ask is maybe a bit silly, and would probably go in 'sanity check' category. It is about Max, and how he is perceived. If I understand correctly, it is said he is mad max, bad guy, aggressive… and similar. Now, I know teenagers are sometimes a bit crazy, and from what I read he was actually very badly treated by freaking adults, fellow drivers, when he first joined F1, so maybe then he was a bit aggressive, and it would be even understandable… but still it is difficult to even imagine that. Because Max I see (I am only following racing since last year) is nice, soft, funny, polite guy, still more looking like an innocent kid than an adult, even appearing naïve (unlike the sweet, adorable devil that is Charles!), and obviously so nice towards rookies (Oliver and Liam-who himself said it). So am I delusional and see what is not there or for some reason he is so vilified (I guess most coming probably from jealousy and Netflix crap…). Oh and one additional observation, he always looks so much softer and somehow cuddlier and cuter on photos from his streaming at home… What do you think? One final observation, then I will shut up  Sometimes it seems to me that all the Lestappen moments and specila connection maybe come from the fact that when Charles came to F1 Max finally had kinda his person there. Because he went form father abuse to fellow drivers abuse, but when Charles came to F1, he had someone he could have a real relationship with, even if they fought and were a bit sulky almost teenagers still in the beginning, they got over it as they grow up. But Charles is his genuinely healthy, good, fun, friendly relationship. Having spent time as kids growing up of course also deepens the bond and friendship, but also mutual respect and understanding each other’s qualities. I don’t know if explained it well enough… P.S. I LOVE your fics!!!!

Hi anon, and thank you so much for this ask! I don't think it's a silly ask at all.

All these "Mad Max", being too aggressive, being mean claims etc. stem from two things:

1. When Max made it into F1 almost 10(!) years ago, he was 17(!!) years old. He was a kid — a literal child. And he was a cocky, arrogant little shit at that, as any kid would be making their debut in such a prestigious sport at such a young age.

2. Max haters who will hate him forever, no matter what, no matter why. They don't even need a reason; they're just determined to hate him and will do so forever.

But the thing is, and his haters especially seem to love to ignore this fact, Max was seventeen years old when he made his F1 debut. He was, for all intents and purposes, a child. I watched Max make his F1 debut, and I watched and read the way he was viewed and the reception he received from his fellow drivers, the media, and fans alike. And I watched these grown-ass men already on the grid when Max joined welcome him by treating him like shit. These adults were so threatened by this kid who came into the sport without having to go through the same ranks almost every other F1 driver has to go through to get there, such as several years in F3 and F2 (Max only spent a year in F3 and skipped F2 altogether), that they did virtually nothing to make him feel welcome. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was so fucking sad and infuriating, and I lost a lot of respect for many drivers because of it. And if I'm being honest, anon, that's what made me decide Max would be my favorite driver. I can be incredibly spiteful when I want to be, and watching Max get slammed and slandered from so many directions from the very beginning made me want to be very spiteful. That's what made me decide that I was going to support that kid like hell. And I haven’t looked back or regretted it since.

I cannot stress this enough, and I know I've said it so many times before already, but: Max Verstappen was a child when he made it into the world of F1. But he's not a child anymore, which a concerning amount of people seem to be blissfully and willfully ignorant to. Max has grown and matured so much in the years he's been in F1. And, like most other people, Max Verstappen the adult is not the same person as Max Verstappen the teenager, or Max Verstappen the child. And he hasn’t been anything like his 17-year old self in a long, long time. But this, of course, is something his haters will never accept or acknowledge.

I truly believe, from the very bottom of my heart, that Max is always so nice and welcoming towards rookies, always willing to lend a hand or giving them advice, always going out of his way to praise and support them, because practically no one ever did that for him when he was a rookie. And that speaks volumes about his character and the kind of man he has grown into since making his debut.

You're not delusional at all, anon, and having only followed F1 since last year means it's not surprising that you don't see the very outdated and frankly incredibly incorrect persona the people who dislike Max will always keep trying to convince themselves and others is still him. Because it isn’t — not even close. Practically every single person who has worked with or been around Max in the past few years all say the same thing: that he's funny, easy-going, and one of the genuinely kindest people on the grid. And that means a hell of a lot more than the opinions of people who have never and will never know him, and have made it their personal, sad mission to hate him. So you keep holding on to the impression you have of him, anon, because that is a far more accurate representation than the image some people are so hellbent of painting of him. (He’s definitely not naïve, though, not even close.)

And I absolutely agree: he looks even softer and cuddlier when he's streaming at home! I love streamer!Max so much.

"When Charles came to F1 Max finally had kinda his person there". <- You are spot on with this, anon! I've talked about the special bond I think these two share in the past, like in this post, and so have many others. (@tsarinablogs @valyrfia @thearchercore to name a few - highly recommend checking out their blogs if you haven’t already!) It truly seems like they have never, and will never, see any other driver as a big a rival as the other, and the numerous accounts of their karting days from people who got to watch them battle first-hand from such a young age definitely backs up that claim. And I think that's so beautiful, and it's one of the many, many reasons why these two are so dear to me, and why other F1 ships will never be able to come close.

P.S. That makes me so happy to hear, anon, thank you so, so much. 🥹❤️

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Max Verstappen

[albertasunrise]

Look for the Light - 3

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2

You glanced in the back seat and smiled when you noted that Ellie had drifted off. You'd been on the road most of the day and you supposed that once the initial wonder of being in a car had worn off, the teenager had succumbed to sleep. None of you had slept much since setting off on this journey. The teenager had rattled on about things she'd heard at FEDRA school and asked questions whenever something unusual popped into view. The teenager had been quiet for the last hour however and you had relished the quiet at first.

Now it was choking.

Joel hadn't spoken a word to you since leaving Bill and Frank's. You knew he was struggling to come to terms with losing the two men. He had considered them friends in a messed up sort of way and to find out they'd killed themselves had been a huge blow. Especially so soon after losing Tess... And the journey continued that way until you came across an old service station, littered with cars.

"We need gas." He announced, pulling in and parking up.

Ellie was quick to jump out of the car and you chuckled at the teenager's enthusiasm.

"Where you goin'?" Joel called out when the teenager sprinted towards the building.

"I need a piss man." She grumbled and Joel nodded.

"I'll make sure the building's clear." You stated and Joel nodded at you, watching as you and Ellie disappeared inside.

You were quick to ascertain that the building was free of infected and people and left the girl to relieve herself in privacy. You pulled out your pack and rested it on the counter of the derelict cafe, pulling out the box you'd managed to find at the store a few days prior. Your hands were shaking as you pulled out its contents and stared at it, almost willing for what you were looking at to be different. scraping a hand over your face, you let out a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry but finding yourself losing that battle.

"What are those?" Ellie asked as she sprinted up behind you, grabbing one off of the counter before you could stop her.

"Two dashes -Pregnant... One dash - Not pregnant..." She spoke as she studied it.

"Ellie please give that back." You pleaded but the teenager didn't listen.

"Well this one has two dashes so..." She trailed off as the realisation dawned on her and then her eyes drifted up to you "Wait are you pregnant?"

"Ellie-"

"Is it Joel's?" She interrupted as she glanced out the window before looking at the test again "It is isn't it!"

"Ellie please-"

"Man, he is gonna freaaaaak."

"I know okay!" You snapped, finally managing to snatch the test away from her.

"Where did you even find those?" She asked as she watched you stuff the tests back into your pack.

"The shop we had shit stashed in." You stated as you leaned against the counter and took a deep breath.

"You going to tell him?" She asked and you let out a long sigh before answering.

"Well, I'm going to have to." You grumbled, "Not something I can exactly hide from him."

"What you gonna do though?" She asked "You going to keep it?... Only I can't see Joel playing happy family."

"I don't know Ellie okay!" You choked "I don't know what I am going to do but I would appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself until I tell him."

"Sure... Course." She nodded and you released the breath you hadn't even realised you'd been holding.

"Thank you." You replied with a small nod "Come on. Should get out there before Joel comes looking."

Outside, Joel was leaning against one of the many abandoned cars that littered the area, fuel pumping from inside the tank into the can he had sat on the floor beside him.

"Good?" He asked and you nodded.

"Fine." You replied plainly, unable to miss the slight wince that appeared on his face when you spoke.

"We have to do this every hour?" Ellie asked as she watched Joel feed the pipe into another car's gas tank.

"Gas breaks down over time." He replied, eyes still focused on what he was doing "This stuff's almost water."

"Back in the day, we'd drive 10, 12 hours on one tank." You piped up and Ellie looked at you in awe.

"You could go anywhere." She stated and you nodded "So where'd you go?"

"Pretty much nowhere." Joel grumbled and you smirked at the man's reply.

He wasn't wrong.

Joel blew air through one of the pipes in his hand and you watched as the gas started to travel through the other one, the liquid pattering against the gas already in the can.

"Nice! How does that work?" Ellie asked, her interest piqued.

"It's a siphon." Stated Joel as he looked up at the teenager "It's when liquid... travels against gravity... because pressure..."

"You don't know." Ellie needled and you choked back a laugh at the girl's statement.

"I know it works." He replied, eyes wandering to you and your smirk soon disappeared.

Something Ellie keenly picked up on.

"You two gonna be fucking miserable around each other the whole way?... Cus I'm not sure I can handle much more of this sexual tension."

"There's no sexual tension." Joel grumbled and the teenager rolled her eyes at the man's reply.

"Sure there isn't." She mumbled as she turned around.

"No wandering." Joel called out and glanced at Ellie.

"Okay." The teen replied before pulling something from her pack "This is your fault then."

Joel look almost worried.

"It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery."

You barked out a laugh that took not just Joel but yourself by surprise. You can't remember the last time you heard a joke. It had been a long time, that was for sure. Not much to joke about anymore.

"No Pun Intended, Volume Too, by Will Livingston." Ellie announced as she showed you both the cover of the book in her hands "Volume Too."

You rolled your eyes at the girl's enthusiasm before looking over at Joel who was shaking his head.

"Look. You get it? 'Too'? Like, T-o-o."

"Jesus." He grumbled.

"What did the mermaid wear to her math class?" Ellie continued and Joel's expression was one that almost looked like terror.

"An algae bra." She chuckled "Like, algae bra."

"Ellie-"

"I stayed up all night...

"No." Joel almost pleaded and you couldn’t not chuckle at the man's obvious discomfort.

"wondering where the sun went... and then it dawned on me."

"Feel free to wait in the truck." Joel growled, shutting the teenager up for the time being.

"Ugh, okay." She groaned " But just know, you can't escape Will Livingston." She warned, looking at you both as she stuffed the book back in her pack "He'll be back... There's nothing you can do to stop him."

Joel managed to get a decent amount of gas from the cars to last you a little while longer. You took the back seat so you could sleep a while, whilst Ellie took the front. She silently studied the landscape as it flew passed the window, careful when she spoke not to wake you. You made one more stop, swapping places with Ellie again so that she could sleep a while if she wanted to. Instead, the teen decided to rummage around in the back.

The girl found a tape that had filled the car with music and for a while, it felt like it was any normal road trip. Like the ones, you'd had with your parents as a kid.

"Oh, man." Called out Ellie "Got somethin' else."

Ellie was silent a while as she analysed what she had found, her eyes growing to the size of saucers at the images she saw.

"It's, uh... light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures." She stated and that grabbed both your's and Joel's attention.

"Oh. No, no, no. Put that back." Joel ordered but the teenager didn't listen, snatching the mag bag when you tried to grab it from her "That's not for kids. Ellie." He warned but still, she didn't listen.

"How would he even walk around with that thing?"

"Please get rid of it." Joel pleaded and you once again found yourself smirking.

"Hold your horses." Ellie grumbled as she continued to flick through the pages "I wanna see what all the fuss is about."

Joel gave you a pleading look and you shrugged. You'd get the item from the teenager without endangering them all.

"Why are all these pages stuck together?" Ellie asked and suddenly Joel looked like a fish out of water "Uhh... the..."

"I'm just fuckin' with ya." She chuckled, swatting him with the magazine before sitting back and rolling down the window "Bye-bye, dude!" She chuckled as she threw the magazine from the car.

The music continued to play as Joel drove. The conversation between you and the child flowed easily as you talked to her about what she was seeing. She was a curious little thing and it warmed your heart. Your hand unconsciously rested on your stomach as you imagined what the child inside might look like. You imagined a little boy with dark eyes and wild curls. The perfect balance of you and Joel. The image took away the fear you'd been feeling since you learned about them. You still didn't know what you were going to do. This was no world for a baby but there was no safe way of getting rid of it either... and truth be told.

You didn't want to.

When the sky started to darken, Joel glanced at back Ellie before looking over at you and decided that it was probably time to call it a night. He could tell that you both were exhausted and he was too.

"All right. That's enough for today." He piped up and you looked over at him a moment before nodding at him.

He abruptly turned the truck and drove it across a field towards some woods. Driving a fair way in before parking the truck and pulling out some tins of food. After getting the gas stove going, Joel opened up some tins and started to heat them up in a metal tin pot, the smell making your mouth water.

A short while later you were eating the meal Joel had prepared, savouring the flavours. It was the meal you'd eaten in a long while. You knew the diet of jerky you'd been on couldn't have been giving the baby the nutrition it needed so you hoped a few days of decent meals would help it grow. The more your mind dwelt on the baby, the more attached to the idea of being a mum you became. So you decided you were going to keep it... Whether Joel wanted it or now.

"Slow down." Joel grumbled, pulling you from your thoughts.

"This is slow." Ellie mumbled around a mouthful of food.

"What am I even eating?" She asked as she forked another mouthful in.

"That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli." Joel replied.

"That guy was good."

"I actually agree."

The three of you ate in silence a while before Ellie asked what you too were wondering.

"How long we staying out here?"

"I figure I sleep tonight... and drive tomorrow, all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin'."

"So can we start a fire? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?" Joel snapped and Ellie rolled her eyes at the man's tone.

"Because Infected will see the smoke."

"No. Fungus isn't that smart." You piped up, grabbing the other's attention.

"She's right." Joel conceded "This is too remote

for Infected, anyway."

"People?" Ellie asked and you both nodded in unison "So what are they

gonna do? Rob us?"

"Oh, they'll have way more in mind than that." Joel grumbled and Ellie nodded. No more need be said on the matter.

You set up your sleeping bags for the night, one single light illuminating the camp. You said nothing whilst Ellie and Joel muttered things between the two of them. Your mind was going a million miles an hour whilst you stared at the box just visible inside your pack.

Your mind drifted back to the conversation you'd shared a little earlier with Ellie. The girl needled for clarity on what you were going to do about your situation.

"You need to tell him." She said as she glanced at the man who'd been unpacking the truck "Sooner rather than later."

You'd not said anything. Just nodded at him before graciously accepting the sleeping bag Joel had handed you. You'd set yours up a little away from theirs. Wanting space to think about how you were going to approach the subject. As you lay there staring at the sky you heard Ellie speak, the tone grabbing your attention.

"Can I ask you a serious question?" Her tone sounded almost frightened and your heart ached to reach out and comfort her.

"Yeah."

"Why did the scarecrow get an award?"

Your eyes instantly rolled but you stayed silent. Waiting for Joel to tell her off again.

"Because he was outstanding in his field." He replied and you guffawed at his reply.

Joel Miller had a sense of humour. You be damned!

"You dick!" Ellie laughed as Joel rolled back onto his side. "Did you read this?"

"No." Joel grumbled, pulling his sleeping back higher "Now go to sleep."

Silence settled in the camp for a while and you closed your eyes, willing sleep to come but Ellie's voice pulled you back, just as you felt rest tug just a little.

"Those people you said..." She trailed off, tone again a little frightened "There's no way anyone knows we're here, right?"

Your stomach dropped at her question. You'd be lying if you said you weren't frightened of being found. Especially now.

"No one's gonna find us."

"No one's gonna find us." Joel repeated.

"Okay."

With that, the girl allowed herself to close her eyes and you envied how quickly she fell into a deep slumber. You too allowed sleep to take you and you fell into a dreamless slumber. When you woke, the stars were still twinkling above you and you sighed, looking up to see what it was that must've woken you.

Joel was standing guard, gun in hand and you scraped a hand over your tired face before getting up from your bed.

"Can't sleep?" You asked quietly as you came to a stop at his side.

"Something like that." He replied, eyes scanning the darkness.

"What me to take over?"

"I'm fine." His tone was short and it snapped whatever patience you had left in half.

"God, you're an asshole." You grumbled and this grabbed his attention.

"What?"

"I'm sorry it was me instead of Tess." You grumbled as you turned your back to him "I know you'd rather have her here at your side but I can't change what happened."

"I don-"

"I shouldn't have come." You sobbed, wiping your tears with your sleeve "I keep following you around but you clearly don't want me around. I keep inflicting this hurt on myself and I can't do it anymore."

Joel grabbed your arm and turned you to face him. His expression was impossible to read in the dim light of the camp.

"I don't wish it had been you instead of Tess." He uttered, his face not inches away from yours "I have always wanted you around... Since the day I met you."

"What are you saying, Joel?"

He didn't answer with words. He kissed you hard and your hands instantly tangled in his hair as he walked you back. His lips travelled to your neck and you glanced at Ellie a moment before allowing yourself to succumb to the pleasure he was bringing you.

"Got to be quiet ." He whispered as he opened your jeans and pulled them down over your hips.

You nodded eagerly as you helped rid him of his own jeans before opening his shirt and running your hands over his warm flesh. He dropped to his knees, pulling you with him and you straddled his lap, whining at the feel of his erection rubbing against your folds. Your hand snaked between you and grabbed it, positioning it at your entrance before sinking down. Gasping at how well he filled you. Then you kissed him, the two of you swallowing each other's moans as you stayed there a moment, adjusting to his length.

"We haven't got long." Joel uttered against your lips and you nodded, glancing again at Ellie's back before you both started to move.

"Fuck." You choked as he hit that perfect spot over and over again.

The two of you moved in perfect sync. You met each one of his thrusts, noting how he was wincing. This couldn’t be good on his knees.

"Lay down." You uttered but he shook his head, increasing his pace when he felt you start to squeeze him.

"You close?" He asked and you nodded "Cum for me."

And you did. Your heat squeezed him so tight that he came without warning, suddenly racing to pull out but it was too late.

"Shit." He grumbled as he scrambled to get dressed again "Shit, shit shit!"

"Joel-"

"I shouldn't have cum in you." He growled, berating himself under his breath "Fuck."

"Joel, calm down."

"Calm down??" He growled "Do you get what this means?"

"Yes." You spat, keeping your voice low.

"You could end up pregnant." He growled and you threw your head back, letting out a long sigh as you glanced over at your pack.

He watched as you got up, carefully pulling something from your bag before heading back over to him. Your hands were shaking as you knelt down opposite him, clutching the truth in your hands tightly.

"We can't let that happen." Joel uttered, his brows drawn together "We can't bring a baby into our situation."

You let out a sigh before holding the tests out so he could see them. His eyes drifted from you to what you were holding out to him, his eyes widening as he studied the items carefully.

"It's a bit late for that Joel." You replied plainly, pulling his gaze back to you "I'm already pregnant."

Next

Taglist form

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #joel miller gif #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction

[watermelonsugacry]

i would adore to learn how/when y/n meet mitch! your posts make me so happy!

Choose Your Words

A/N: in celebration of SINCE 2010 turning 1 on Tumblr, here's how the two best guitarists in the world met! 💚

SUMMARY: After almost a year into One Direction's hiatus, Harry craves being in the studio again to make some music. After inviting his best friend and former band member, YN, onto his team, they spend the next two months in Jamaica as they make an album, uncover hidden feelings, and explore uncharted territories. (3.5k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // Jamaica series // Previous song here! 🌵

SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl

“So what did you say his name was again?” 

Today marks the first day of the official writing session for Harry’s new album. The last of the team had just finished flying in the day before and settling into their new home for the next two months. 

Much like her time in the band, YN being the only female in this team was given her own room to stay in for their stay in Jamaica. With only a couple of hours in the land of paradise, she’s already traded in her skinny jeans for shorts and her leather jackets for open button-up shirts with tank tops underneath. 

Harry is just too excited to wait any longer. YN could tell how much he’s been holding it in and he has been itching to be back in the studio to make some music. After everyone’s taken naps to overcome the jet lag, it was time to get into the home studio to bring Harry’s ideas to fruition. 

The two of them haven’t experienced writing an album like this before. They were always on the road whenever they recorded, putting down some vocals here and there in a mini van minutes before going on stage to perform to a stadium full of people. They’ve never had the chance to set a month or two aside to solely focus on creating such a magic piece of art. Despite already getting in the studio to get started working on the album, it already feels like a vacation.

But before they could even get started, she had to ask about the last member of Harry’s team that she wasn’t able to meet before making the trip overseas. 

“Mitch. Mitch Rowland. He was Ryan’s roommate.” Harry answers as YN takes a sip of her smoothie she made earlier that morning. Her and Harry walk side by side down the hallway on their way to the built-in home studio. The house they were staying in was absolutely beautiful. It was just sitting off the coast so almost every window in the house had a view of the beach. It has a lot of open space in each room, a spacious backyard and a patio area for get-togethers, but YN’s favorite part of the house is the home studio. She can’t wait until hers gets done by the time they get back from their trip. 

“Wait, what happened to the other bloke that was supposed to come in?” 

Harry takes the cup from her hand and takes a sip for himself, “He bailed.”

“Just like that?” YN raises her eyebrows in surprise as he nods around the cup. “Well shit. Is this new guy legit then?” 

“Ryan said Mitch has been working at a pizza shop for the last couple of years and that they’re pretty good friends.” She nods along before being handed back her cup. “Met him about a week before we came out here and he’s pretty fucking wicked at the guitar. He’s pretty stiff competition compared to you.” 

“Har, har,” YN playfully rolls her eyes at his teasing but the compliment simultaneously inflates her ego and gives her tummy butterflies at the same time. The feeling in her stomach only increases as she watches Harry rake a hand through his new haircut.

Only a week before they need to take off to Jamaica, YN and Harry take the trip back to Holmes Chapel to a very excited Anne. The woman never fails to extend a warm welcome—especially towards the young lady who her son’s been secretly in love with since he was a teenager.

They stay by the doorframe of Anne’s small kitchen and (despite YN’s few attempts to talk him out of it) watch as Harry gets ready for his first haircut in almost two years. He takes off his shirt since he doesn’t feel like plucking the hair off of the fabric, leaving him in his pajama pants. The two women watch as he gets his long locks tied back in a low ponytail and YN can’t help the giggle that tumbles out of her lips.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry can’t help but chuckle as well. As much as this transformation is needed in order to transition into this new chapter in his life, there’s no denying that he’s feeling anxious as well.

“M’nervous! I can’t help it,” YN beams, tightly linking her arm with Anne’s.

“You want to cut a bit of it off?” Harry offers.

“Like hell m’gonna to be partly responsible for this crime being committed in front of me eyes.”

The people in the room laugh at her playfully offended tone and Anne pats her hand reassuringly to the young woman’s arm. YN’s had her fair share of hair transformations over the years. For Harry, his long hair has always been her favorite. She remembers the day he told her he planned on growing it out with the intention of donating it and the day he asked her about some ways he could keep his hair out of his eyes—introducing his love for headscarves and small clips. She remembers when she had a real shitty day and he let her braid his long hair to cheer her up...only for him to keep them on for the show they had later that night. She loved to card her fingers through his hair and watch his eyes fight to stay open.

Right as the hairdresser begins to grab at the low ponytail and brings the blades of the scissors to his hair, YN playfully covers her eyes and digs her face into Anne’s arm, “I can’t watch!”

“I was the one with the long hair. I’ve had it for so much of One Direction that cutting it off just felt like starting afresh.”

YN’s eyes peek through the gap in between her fingers as she watches the deed be done. Harry also has a hand over his eyes and playfully groans out in pain. 

She snaps a couple of pictures of him initially getting his hair trimmed before leaving to the living room to let him have his haircut in peace and have a chat with Anne. And once it was officially over, Harry only adds to the anticipation of his new haircut reveal when he tells her to cover her eyes.

“Hurry up, H. M’already all worked up.”

“Okay, okay,” She hears the sound of wood—presumingly the coffee table—scraping against the floor before he takes a take on it to be in front of her. “Open your eyes, love.” 

Her eyes make their way up from the two birds on his chest up to his head.

“Huh,” She smiles contently at the sight in front of her. Harry’s hair no longer reaches below his shoulders. The curly curtains that once framed his face have been removed. His newly short locks don’t seem as curly as it used to be but they both know it’s still there. Harry’s hair is styled in an upward motion and all she wants to do is run her fingers through it.

So she brings a hand up to do just that. She combs her fingers through the top of his hair and she’s slightly surprised that his hair is not long enough for the action to last longer. Her gaze moves down to his eyes and sees him waiting for her approval. 

“Is that a good ‘huh’?” He asks when she hasn’t said another word.

“It’s a good ‘huh.’” She tilts her head to the side as she continues to stare at him and a smile of his own creeps onto his face. She’s definitely going to miss his long hair, but on the other hand, she thinks his new look suits him as he starts a new chapter in life. And if she’s being completely honest with herself, he looks so fucking handsome.

When he sees her eyes continuing to bounce around the top of his head and around the rest of his face, he playfully pushes at her knee, “Stop or else I’ll get conceded.”

His chest swells when he sees that gorgeous smile of hers only become that much brighter, “Oh I think you’re way past that.” 

“I was about to personify my hair but I decided not to,” Harry huffs out a smirk from his seat in front of his interview chair. 

“M’excited for you to meet him though,” Harry says, rubbing his hands together. “Getting a lead guitarist is just the beginning for all this, y’know? Like it makes this that much more real.”

It’s really exciting to see Harry so excited about his music. Going from being in the band for five years and putting out an album a year was tiring to say the least but the fact that they were making music that they loved balanced out some of the stress. Now as an upcoming solo artist, it was inspiring to see him as passionate about music as he was when she first met him all those years ago.

“Well let’s stop wasting time then and let me go see how wicked this guy really is.” YN smiles and reaches for the door handle but before she can touch it, his hand covers hers. She blinks up at him as he brings their joined hands to his chest.

“You think talking to me is a waste of time, lovie?” Whether it was the teasing look in his eye or the way he smirks at her with his dimpled cheeks, but it has her mind going blank without a witty comment to fire back. Yet this is how they’ve been for years: making jokes that were borderline flirty, causing the other person to smirk or playfully roll their eyes in fake annoyance, acting like one another’s actions didn’t have an effect on them when it utterly and wholeheartedly did. Since they couldn’t do anything about it with the strict restrictions of the no-dating rule in the band, there was no harm or foul with these kinds of conversations.

Now everything is different.

They aren’t in the band anymore.

These stubble comments and questions left them searching for the truth behind each word that pushed past the other’s lips. Did the other person actually mean what they said or was it just them being how they always are? 

At a loss for words, she furrows her brows with a rigid shake of her head, “N-no, I-I mean—”

“M’joking darling,” An amused smile graces his face from seeing her all flustered and tongue-tied. It’s a rare sight so whenever he’s able to catch her off guard in this way, he relishes in it.

YN pulls her hand away from Harry’s with an eye roll and a scoff, trying her best to play off a cool demeanor, “I know tha’.” 

Despite her efforts, he continues to smirk down at her before twisting the door handle and pushing the door open. 

“After you,” Harry extends a hand out towards the room. With one last look at him, she enters the room with the rim of the cup to her lips to hide the heat creeping its way up to her cheeks. She sees two of the producers, Tyler and Alex, messing around with the buttons on the panel and in a light discussion. 

She also sees a guy in the recording room through the window above the huge studio console. His long hair covers his face as he looks down to tune his guitar.

“Is this him?” She asks, feeling Harry behind her. 

Tyler turns around and gives a quick nod, “Should we let him know we’re ready for him?”

YN cocks up an eyebrow with a hand lazily resting on her hip, “Let’s see what he’s got.”

Given the good girl persona that One Direction’s management forced upon her during the majority of her career, no one would really expect her to look so intimidating. Sure, there’s always going to be some slight intimidation for the fact that she’s a member of one of the most famous bands in the world, making music that quickly lands them at the top of the charts, putting out new music, and performing to sold-out stadiums almost every night—but she’s been so prim and proper externally that some people wouldn’t think twice to write her off as anything else.

As the last year of the band progressed, more and more of her personality began to shine through to the outside world. She’s a harsh critic and doesn’t like to sugar coat shit—especially if it comes to a big project like this for one of the most important people in her life.

So as she takes a seat on the leather sofa chair with Harry sitting on the arm rest, she puts one leg over the other and crosses her arms over her chest with a neutral expression on her face. Harry might say that this hippie looking guy is a good guitarist, but YN needs to see that for herself.

“I was a bit skeptical about Mitch at first, m’not gonna lie,” YN lightly laughs in her interview chair. “I mean, v’seen a lot of talented guitarists so far during my music career so I was mainly looking to see like, ‘what’s so different about this guy?’” 

From the first note that the guy behind the glass riffs—as cool as it was—she keeps from showing her thoughts and brings her cup to her lips. Harry pinches at his bottom lips as he watches for her reactions; needing her approval for something as vital as this racks his nerves like no other. 

As Mitch continues to play, Harry sees the way YN begins to slowly move her head to the pretty melody. Her eyes scan the spot on the floor in front of her as she listens closely to what’s being played and the infamous crease in between her eyebrows appears.

“But the moment he started playing, he just...” She shakes her head with a smirk. “...he blew me fookin’ socks off.”

Mitch does a really cool riff on the guitar that has the four of them in the room whoop and shout in amazement.

“Woah!” Harry stands up from his seat and lifts his arms in the air. 

“Holy shit!” YN lets out a laugh, putting her hands to her temple in disbelief. “Are yeh fookin’ kidding me?”

The next thing she knows, Harry’s removing his pink button up, crossing his arms across his torso and removing his shirt to place it onto her lap behind him. The two producers in the room soon catch on and start laughing hysterically at the sight before them.

Harry then proceeds to shimmy out of his tight, black jeans, leaving him in his tiny briefs, and sticks his arms in the air. YN places her index fingers in the corners of her mouth and blows out a loud whistle both for Mitch's guitar skills and Harry's undressing.

The two of them don’t waste another second as Harry takes her inside the recording room to formally introduce her to the newest member of the team.

“Mitch, this is my best friend YN. YN, this is—”

“Mitch fookin’ Rowland,” YN smirks, taking his outreached hand. “S’nice to meet yeh, mate.”

“Thanks, same here,” Mitch gives her a shy smile. “Harry’s told me a lot about you. He told me you’re a musician too?” 

Trying not to be thrown off by his innocent tone, YN glances at Harry at Mitch’s unexpected comment but she’s quick to bounce back, “I am, yeah. Nothing too major though. Play a bit of guitar as well.”

“Yeah, and by ‘a bit,’” Harry throws a hand on her shoulder. “She means she’s practically married to it.”

“You have to show me some of your secrets then,” Mitch motions to the guitar that’s still pressed against himself.

“Sure, but before that, you gotta show me how you did that one riff earlier,” YN says as she’s already reaching for one of the guitars she’s brought for the trip and throwing the thick strap over her shoulder.

It’s strange to meet someone who hasn’t known their band. YN can’t remember the last time she met someone where they didn’t know her name and her success prior to being formally introduced. Since she was sixteen years old, she began to feel like everyone knew everything about her: her feelings, her background, what she was fucking thinking just because they read something in some sleazy, tabloid article. People had preconceived notions about her but with Mitch, it’s the complete opposite. It was an uncomfortable experience at first, but then YN fookin’ loves it.

“The thing with Mitch is that since he had no experience with being in a recording studio and YN having the same, if not more, experience with songwriting and that sort of thing, it really connected us in a way where the three of us sort of, balanced each other out,” Harry explains, before pitching at his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger. “We had each other to lean on and work this out together and the three of us wrote the majority of the album together.”

“The first song we wrote together was Ever Since New York,” YN recalls as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Knowing from personal experience, the best form of therapy and venting out yeh feelings is in songwriting so...that song was just waiting to come out of Harry.”

A major part of creating music is being vulnerable. It’s an intimate experience to write songs, especially with other people, in letting other people see your hurts, your feelings, and the kinds of thoughts that can keep you up late at night. It’s one of the reasons why YN and Harry are as close as they are. It took some time to get used to it at the beginning of their careers together, but they let each other see the deepest parts of themselves. They tell each other things that they’d be embarrassed to tell anyone else with no fear of judgment; they’ve created a safe space in one another...well, as safe as one can feel when they’re secret, deeper feelings for their best friend.

Ever Since New York came to life fairly easily; songwriting can be that way when writing from life experiences. After finalizing some of the lyrics about Harry’s sick father with YN and working out the chords with Mitch, the next they knew he was laying down the vocals for the song. 

As everyone gets to work in the studio, YN finds herself reverting back to her old demeanor in the band: sitting in the corner of the room watching as the four male producers work their magic in front of the huge console of buttons and sliders. Not that she minded all that much since she was hired as a songwriter, there was nothing in that kind of job description for her to be with the other men producing Harry’s songs.

She knew her place without being told and she’s had years of experience in learning how to be okay with that...but that didn’t stop her mind from dreaming about being up there, moving various sliders, typing away at the desktop computer, and helping fix vocals as they appear in their zigzag form on the screen.

As if hearing her thoughts behind him, YN’s head perks up when Tom—better known as Kid Harpoon—spins around in his seat and beckons her over with a nod of his head.

When Harry comes out of the recording booth, a smile spreads across his face when he sees YN sitting in a swiveling chair with everyone else, clicking away at the desktop mouse as Kid points to the screen. She nods to whatever he’s saying and highlights the recorded vocals to make the needed adjustments.

When Kid sees Harry come up to them, he pipes up, “H, you didn’t tell me we got another producer on our team.”

“Oh, no s’nothing—” 

“I thought you knew,” Harry says in-matter of fact, interrupting YN before she can finish. When she blinks up at him, he nods over to the computer screen. “Wanna show me what you’ve got so far?”

She gives him that smile that has been making his knees weak since he was sixteen years old. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Um, so here’s a bit from the first verse you did earlier...”

As she shows him the work she’s done, it takes him a second to make his eyes stop bouncing around her profile. She speaks so passionately about her work, her eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. The way her plushy lips push and pull with each word has him wanting to reach out to run his thumb over her bottom lip.

After all these years, how has his feelings for her not gone away? 

He thought maybe this time it would be different. They’re not in the band anymore...but with her being hired on as a member of his album-making team, they’re practically co-workers once again. 

Harry pulls his eyes away from her face and looks at the computer screen in hopes to drown out those intrusive thoughts. He just hopes this doesn’t affect their work...shit.

Next Song Here! 👻

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305 @tiaamberxx

#jamaica series #1dbandmember!yn #harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #1yr since since 2010 #harry styles and reader #harry styles writing #harry styles and you #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and famous reader #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x singer!reader #and harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #harry styles masterlist #harry styles concept #harry styles soft #harry styles behind the album

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 12: Don't Be A Stranger

If you need to catch up here's the masterlist

Summary: Apparently... Jess has new plans for Christmas

Warnings: Mentions of Neil (gross), crude language, cursing, Neil being homophobic if you squint, Billy being a little shit. I think that's it, but as always, let me know if I missed something.

Word Count: 4.8K

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I've been MIA for so long but I'm officially back from my month and a half vacation! TBH I've missed you guys and hope you all enjoy!

“You chaperoning tonight?” Steve walked with Jess toward the parking lot from the gym as they left practice much earlier than usual. The coaches considered this an “early Christmas present” but ensured the basketball team would be having practice a week before school started again in January. The Snow Ball had been the talk of this school week even if it was only meant for the middle schoolers. However, it had also been an excuse for the high schoolers to throw their own parties or get-togethers, not to mention it marked the beginning of winter break, something everyone, including Jess, was looking forward to. 

“Not this year, you?” Jess already knew the answer. Steve never enjoyed that kind of thing, and even if he did, both Nancy and Jonathan would be there tonight, which would have made him want to change his plans. 

Steve shook his head but added, “I’m helpin’ mini-Harrison with his hair tonight though and droppin’ him off tonight.” 

“Who? Dustin?” 

“Hell yeah Dustin. He’s gonna kill it tonight, I know it.” Jess laughed at the thought of Steve combing another teenager’s hair for them. 

“So what are your plans tonight then?” Jess contemplated this question. She wasn’t sure whether she would start on the tedious task Mr. Crowley assigned both her and Billy as Billy probably wouldn’t want to spend his first night of freedom studying. Considering the night it was, she was sure that Hargrove already had plans. She then looked out into the lot and saw him leaning against the familiar blue car, cigarette already placed in his mouth of course. Max was there as well, which surprised Jess since their practice was released 20 minutes after Max’s school was. 

“Uhm, maybe get a head start on some schoolwork. I’m not sure really.” She kept her eyes on Billy though, hoping that maybe that would change.

“Lame.” Steve teased. He continued to walk with Jess, passing his own car as he did so.

“Uh wasn’t that-“

“I thought I’d walk you. Besides Max is there,” was all he said, keeping his eyes on the pair in front of them now, eyeing Billy skeptically as he walked up. “You excited for tonight, kid? You’re first one, right?” 

Max beamed up at Steve, clutching her board as she responded, “Oh yeah, can’t wait, especially since Henderson said you’d be doing his hair again, and that went soooo well last time.” Steve cringed at the memory of two weeks ago, which was described to Jess as a wreck. Dustin apparently was adamant about doing it himself, as he was a hands-on learner apparently, and it ended with screaming from spraying product right in his eye and a small chunk of hair being ripped out due to his hair tangling in the comb, which Dustin swore was due to him balding. 

“Yeah well, I’ll be doing it tonight… I think.” Steve began to stare down Billy again who was also looking at him intently, blowing smoke straight at Steve when he glanced over at him. 

Steve aggressively waved his hand once to get most of the smoke away from him, annoyed by the gesture. “Harrington.” Billy nodded his direction once Steve was able to get most of the smoke out of his face. 

“Hargrove.” They stared at each other for a moment longer when Steve continued, “Guessing you got big plans tonight,” he prodded, insinuating he would be partying with Tommy and Carol, as the pair were always up to something during the Snow Ball. 

Billy swiped his teeth with his tongue as he crushed his red with his boot, smirking to himself when he looked down to ensure it was fully put out. “Don’t really know, Harrington. Depends on what this one wants to do.” He gestured toward Jess, which caused Steve to shift uncomfortably, not enjoying the thought of Jess spending as much time as she had been with Hargrove. Steve rolled his eyes at this, being the first to break the staring, and directed his attention back to Max. 

“See you when I drop Henderson off. Don’t have too much fun.” He directed his last statement to Jess, shoving her arm lightly as he finished his sentence, flashing her a smile of acceptance to lighten the mood. He made sure to give Billy one last look of disapproval, though, before he turned back in the direction of his own car, shaking his head as he left them. 

Jess sighed as she watched her best friend leave. She had made it a point to hang out with Steve more this week, as there wasn’t much for her and Billy to do for their shared reading and she felt as if she had been blowing him off more the past week. However, she felt guilty when she would sometimes imagine what Billy was doing during her moments with Steve.

Considering his failed relationship with Nancy, a relationship that he sacrificed a decent amount of his friends for, she knew he needed her in a way. And the feeling was mutual. He had been the one person she could turn to after the haunting incidents from a year ago and again just a couple months ago. She knew she could never lose Steve. And yet, here she was, spending time with the one person Steve couldn’t stand. Throughout the week Steve had come to accept her and Billy’s strange partnership, which Jess always defended with, “we may as well get along for the project” or “he hasn’t been a total ass yet” occasionally sprinkled in their conversations. 

This thought also irritated Jess. She wasn’t able to do right by Steve, her best friend since moving to this town, when she secretly enjoyed Billy’s company. And she couldn’t do right by Billy, a boy who over the past weeks had shown just how great of a friend he could be when she constantly undermined his character around Steve. She began to realize she was running out of time, that she would have to be truthful eventually, and that she was on the verge of hurting someone’s feelings. But just like cleaning out her closet, she decided to push this task for later. After all, she wasn’t exactly lying, was she?

“Okay, Jess, I’m in.” Max’s voice ripped her from her thoughts as she turned back around to face the passenger side of Billy’s vehicle. 

“Oh, right.” Jess lowered herself in the seat, placing her bag on the floor of the car as she closed her door softly. Billy still had a smirk plastered on his face as he too watched Steve walk toward his car, but it fell when he shifted his head to Jess who was looking at him, mildly annoyed. 

“What?” 

“I know you’re just trying to piss him off.” 

“You don’t know shit, Jess.” Billy gave her a teasing smile as he reached toward the glove box to retrieve his Ray Bans. 

“I know he really doesn’t like you.” 

“Yeah, well.” He placed the glass on the bridge of his nose and pulled out of his parking spot, unphased by Jess’s statement. Jess tsked at his nonchalant behavior rolling her eyes slightly, turning up the radio for background music. “So what are you doing tonight, Logan? You’re not one of those freaks who chaperone are you?” 

Jess nudged his arm harder than intended. “I used to be, thank you very much. But no, not this year.” 

Billy laughed at how offended she was. “I’m just sayin’ I don’t understand why any normal teenager would want to spend their night doing that.” 

“It’s not that bad. It’s actually kind of nice.”

“Whatever you say, princess. You know, we haven’t broken in your ‘new’ TV yet.” Billy began to raise his eyebrows at her. “Let me take you to Family Video and actually pick out a good movie.” 

“I actually already watched Sixteen Candles this week in my room. So it is broken in.”

“Without me?” Billy pretended to be hurt by this fact, gasping at the end of his question for effect. “After I moved it to your room and everything?” 

“You don’t even like that movie.”

“I do!” Max spoke up from behind them, leaning in closer to the middle console as she scooted her body closer to their seats. 

Jess turned to face her, smiling triumphantly as she addressed her. “Well then maybe we should have a movie night.” She then eyed Billy smugly, insinuating he was the one who had shit taste in movies. Max bounced excitedly at the thought of this, realizing that she would have all the free time in the world this winter break. 

“Alright Logan, you let me pick one movie, and the rest can be all the corny chick flicks and sci-fi shit you pick out.” 

The three of them pulled into the Mayfield/Hargrove driveway, Billy turning off the ignition before turning to Jess. “Wanna come in for a bit, need to pick up my wallet and drop the kid off to get ready for the Shit Ball.” He flicked Max’s forehead as he said the last part, earning his hand a loud swat from Max. 

“The Snow Ball.”

“Whatever.” Jess once again rolled her eyes at their bickering and left the car, but before Jess could position the passenger seat to allow Max to leave comfortably, she instead climbed the middle console as she normally did in the mornings and stepped on the seat before crawling out. “Aye, watch the shoes shitbird.” Max ignored him, walking into the house first with her skateboard in hand. Jess and Billy quickly followed, Billy holding the door for them, closing it once they were all inside. Max quickly retreated to her room, Billy leading Jess to his. 

Billy walked straight to his mirror, which stood next to a table that had an assortment of colognes and an ashtray. His wallet was placed next to the tray. Billy thumbed through it to make sure its contents were still there and turned to see Jess standing by his dresser, eyeing what appeared to be a photo album. “Ah shit, forgot to put that away.” He began to grab for it, but instead of putting it away as he first intended, he opened it in front of her. “I guess I did promise to show you California, huh?” 

Billy flipped through the album and within seconds made it to pictures of his favorite beach. It looked exactly as Billy described last weekend. The sand looked so soft like it couldn’t possibly burn your feet even if you stepped on it on the hottest day. The ocean was crystal blue, white foam collecting at the edge where it met the shore. Jess looked at the picture at the bottom left and saw the same beach, but this time a beautiful woman was standing in the middle, smiling as bright as the sun that caused her to shield her eyes when taking the shot. 

“Is that…”

“My mom,” Billy confirmed. He stared at the picture with Jess, his face still as stone. 

“You look a lot like her,” Jess replied softly, afraid that the comparison would make him uncomfortable. Billy nodded his head. He knew this already. Everyone said it. 

Except Neil. 

“Yeah…” he whispered, his head nod accompanied by a melancholy smile. Jess turned the page slowly, allowing Billy time to stop her if he felt the need to. When the page was flipped, what she found instead of the same beach were birthday pictures, a young Billy posed in almost every one of them. She looked at the middle picture on the right page and saw Billy smiling behind a cake with five candles lit in a circle. The color of the frosting caught Jess’s attention, as it was a strange shade of purple with random blue streaks hidden in spots of the cake. 

“You like purple as a kid?” 

“What?”

“Your cake.” Jess watched as Billy’s eyes made his way toward the same picture, and then he began to shake his head. 

“No, uh, my favorite frosting’s strawberry.” He began to run his index finger over the cake lightly before pulling away again. “But, you know, strawberry frosting’s pink.  And my dad didn’t like that so much. Made my mom fix it. She was tryna turn it blue.” Billy then turned the page and directed Jess to another cake, this time it was a shade of bright red and had six candles that were not yet lit. “My dad didn’t like the purple too much either but said it was better than nothing.” He then let out a sad laugh as he kept his attention on the new cake.

“But the next year my mom changed the color. Perfected it, I guess. That’s kind of why red’s my favorite color now, got used to it every year.” However, this wasn’t entirely the case. The truth was, though he did favor red when buying certain clothing and objects for his room, he would much rather be able to say that pink was his favorite. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was due to the fact that he wasn’t allowed the color in his life. Maybe it was the way that he was envious Max was allowed it though she was able to choose not to like it. But he chose red, just like his mother did, and that would have to be enough. 

Before Jess could figure out how to respond to this, Billy began to navigate effortlessly through the pages again, where he found more recent pictures of himself and other teenagers who looked around his age at the same beach he showed her earlier. They stayed for a moment as he pointed out certain pictures and memories before he grabbed the album and plopped it on his bed, nodding toward it, indicating she should go sit. He went to the opposite side dropping himself down as well as he moved the album closer to the pair. Billy propped his upper half with his left elbow, his lower half draped off the right side of the bed. His head would have been on her lap if he hadn’t been holding himself up, making Jess shift nervously. They continued to look at pictures of the beach before Billy changed positions, allowing his eyes to meet hers. 

“So whatya think now, Logan, east coast or west coast.” Jess looked away from the pictures and down at Billy, who was already giving her a smug grin, looking up at her with a glint in his eye. 

“Mmm…” Jess then shrugged her right shoulder forward, rocking the upper half back and forth, teasing her uncertainty, “I guess California isn’t too bad.” 

Billy turned himself once again, facing the album, his arm now brushing against Jess’s leg as he continued to flip through the pages with his other hand. There were now pictures of carnival rides and games. Behind most of these pictures was a beach, but it was much more crowded than the beach Billy had been showing her. 

“Santa Cruz beach boardwalk,” Billy said as he continued to turn the pages. Lots of pictures were taken here, many of which had what looked to be an 8 or 9-year-old Billy throughout them. There was only one of what looked to be a younger Neil, still sporting the same mustache he had now. Unlike his son, he wasn’t smiling as he barely wrapped his arm around Billy for the picture. “My mom always wanted to visit the Bay Area.” 

They continued to look through the pictures, Billy attempting to only show her the pictures of things to do in the state of California and avoid pictures of his family and childhood home. It wasn’t until Billy glanced down at his wrist to look at the time when they decided to leave his room. “Better get goin’ if I’m picking the movie tonight, huh?” Billy playfully smacked Jess’s leg as he began to pull himself off the bed. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, jingling them in his hand as he made his way to his bedroom door. Jess left the album open on the bed as she followed him out of the room, both of them walking out the front door together. 

Billy walked toward the passenger door as he began to make a habit of opening it for Jess when she was riding with him. She remembered when she used to be annoyed by the gesture, but now she realized that she rather enjoyed it, allowing him to shut the door for her when she was secured inside. When he entered the car as well, he quickly peeled out of the driveway, ensuring they were no longer driving on Cherry Lane when Neil’s vehicle pulled in. 

They pulled into the parking lot for Family Video in record time, Billy wasting no time as he promptly exited the car. He began rounding the front of the Camaro but stopped when he watched Jess open her own door and exit just as quickly. Jess noticed where he was standing and looked back at the door before looking at Billy again. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Didn’t I say I was a gentleman?” 

“Eh. You’re kind of on and off with it.” Jess smiled back at him as he shook his head. 

“Smart ass.”

Billy walked closely behind Jess as they entered the store, making a point to open the door for her before they did. She began to look around the store, beginning to walk toward the left. However, Billy grabbed her arm and began to steer her to the right of the store. “Wrong way, princess.” She looked in the direction of where he was leading her, and her eyes began to widen as she saw the section they were entering. 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Ah come on. I’ll be right there.” 

“Yeah. That makes me feel soooo much better.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He let go of her arm and began thumbing through the horror movies, looking around to try and find something more interesting than what was already in front of him. He then looked over at Jess again, still expecting an answer to her earlier statement. 

“You seem like the type to try and scare me even more than the movie is going to.” 

“You should learn to trust me a little more, Logan.” He then held up two tapes and faced them toward her. “How about I let you choose.” Jess was now looking at Friday the 13th and Halloween II. 

“How about…” She mocked the way he spat out his last sentence “… neither.” After what happened in Hawkins, she would have thought her fear of horror movies would have subsided, that nothing could beat the fear of what she witnessed both last and this year. It was only a week before Halloween that Steve also attempted to watch Halloween II with her and Nancy, and instead of Nancy cuddling up to Steve as he intended, she was allowing Jess to hide behind her as she refused to look at the screen. Steve looked only slightly put out the rest of the movie, earning Jess the nickname “cock-block” for the rest of the week. 

“Alright then, smart ass.” He put back Halloween II, the movie Jess would have picked if she really had to, considering she had already “seen” it, and held the other tape in his right hand, beginning to steer Jess to the front counter with his left. 

“Are we really gonna watch that?” 

“I’ll let you pick out the snacks.” 

“Great...”

Billy successfully added the rented movie to his family’s account and the two of them left, Jess shuffling her feet a bit slower than usual, slightly less excited for tonight, not wanting to seem incredibly lame for her inability to watch the screen as the movie Billy picked out played.

As they left the parking lot, Billy drove passed the mini-mart everyone usually picked out snacks for a movie from Family Video, and instead began in the direction of the grocery store on the other side of town. Jess began to turn her head toward the mini-mart and began to open her mouth before Billy quickly interrupted.

“Can’t go there. The guy won’t sell to me.” 

“Won’t sell to… what do you mean ‘won’t sell to you’?”

Billy just gave her a mischievous grin and turned his attention back to the road. Jess then scoffed. “You really think we’re gonna be drinking in my room with my parents in the same house?” 

“Relax… it’s just for me. Unless you actually wanted some. Then whatever.” Jess just shook her head in response, failing to hide her smile as she pretended to disapprove. 

They arrived at the grocery store where Billy apparently had the “hookup”, a middle-aged man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Billy quickly went after a six-pack of American Colonial and then turned to Jess. “Whatever you want, princess.” 

“Whatever I want.” Jess repeated back, reassuring Billy that she will be getting just that. Considering that she would be forced to watch a movie that would cause Billy to tease her for the rest of Christmas break, she figured he owed her. She made her way to the candy isle first, grabbing a few Charleston chews bars and then a Twix bar. She handed these over to Billy, freeing up her hands as she walked over to the chips and crackers isle, grabbing a bag of Doritos and a package of room-temperature microwave popcorn. “You’re lucky I have drinks at the house,” she stated smugly and began walking toward the register Billy pointed out to her earlier. 

“Is that everything…” The middle-aged man, apparently named Brian, asked with a monotone voice. 

“Yup,” Billy responded, not looking back at the man until he slid his cash out of his wallet and handed it to him. 

“One thirty-two is…” 

“You can keep it big guy.” Billy grabbed the bag and the six-pack from the side of the register, nodding at Brian as he turned to leave. 

“Yippie…” Jess heard Brian sigh as they walked away. 

The ride to Cherry Lane was longer as this grocery store was not on the same side of town as their neighborhood was. When they eventually made it back home, it was beginning to get dark, which made Jess slightly anxious. 

“Shit, I think dinner’s done…” Jess began as she unclicked her seat belt and reached for the door handle. The original plan, as described by Billy, was for him to drop her and the goods off, park his Camaro back at his house, and wait a few hours before climbing her roof to her window. However, she looked back at Billy with something else in mind. “Do you… wanna maybe come in? For dinner I mean. I don’t think my parents will care. You can still come back later tonight.” 

Billy looked at her for a few moments, watching her nervously shift as she asked this question. It caused him to smile. If he were to tell her the truth, he would say how much he enjoyed the first time he ate dinner with her and her family, and how she would never have to ask if he wanted to do it again. All she would have to do was tell him he was welcome to. 

Instead, he dropped his smile and shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from her and to her front door. “I mean, I guess.” 

“You don’t have to if…” Billy was already out of the car, unwilling to have her finish that sentence. 

“Let’s get to it, Logan.” Billy was at her car door again, opening it as she grabbed the plastic bag from her feet. When her door was closed, she noticed that he had taken the six-pack out of the car with him. 

“You said that was for you!” She whispered harshly at him. 

“It is. For tonight.” He winked at her and positioned the pack at the bottom of the bag, covering it with the rest of the snacks. “Why do you think I asked for your shit to be double-bagged?” 

“Dammit, Billy.” 

“Better hurry upstairs.” He winked again, nudging her with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll distract them. They love me.” 

He was right. For some strange reason, they had taken a major liking to him, especially since the TV incident. And to her dismay, her mother refused to stop talking about how Billy Hargrove was such a ‘nice boy’.

Yeah. Right.

Jess swiftly unlocked the front door and made her way to the stairs, movie in one hand, the now heavy plastic bag in the other. 

“Hey mom, I’m just gonna-“

“Oh hi, hun. Oh and Billy! What a wonderful surprise! Dinner’s about ready if you’re hungry dear.” 

Billy had obviously occupied her parents without even trying, giving Jess an ample amount of time to stash the bag before either of her parents even wondered what she had. When she made her way back downstairs Billy gave her a chum smile, accompanied by another wink as he made his way to the dining room. 

“Told you,” he whispered just loud enough for Jess to hear, both Mr. and Mrs. Logan scrambling around the kitchen. 

“Shut up.”

Dinner tonight was made up of skirt steak, Mrs. Logan’s famous garlic mashed potatoes as served last time Billy stayed for dinner, and an assortment of roasted vegetables. As usual, it was amazing. The silence that accompanied the occasional sound of silverware clanking against porcelain was soon interrupted by Mrs. Logan. 

“Oh! Billy!” Mrs. Logan took a drink from her wine glass before continuing as she captured the rest of the table’s attention. “So my husband has been talking to your father…” she smiled at Mr. Logan, missing Billy’s cringe at the mention of his dad. “They’ve been doing a lot of that at the bank, and the topic of Christmas came up.” She was now looking back at Billy and Jess, both their expressions confused. 

Mr. Logan cleared his throat, nodding as he was beginning to remember the conversation his wife was alluding to. “Right. So we normally do Christmas Eve with the Harrington’s and their boy Steve. He’s actually on the basketball team as well, I’m sure you know him.” 

The same mischievous smile from the car came back as he looked over at Jess quickly before turning his attention to her father. “Oh yeah. Harrington. We’re great friends.”

“Oh good. Figured you would be.” Billy glanced over at Jess again as she cleared her throat. “Well we were thinking, since your family is new into town, you guys live practically next door, and since you, Steve, and Jess seem to be friends, I invited your family over for Christmas Eve as well. We just do dinner and-“ 

Mr. Logan was interrupted by Jess choking on her steak. She reached out for her water and chugged a bit, clearing her airways before looking at her dad. Billy was covering his smile with his hand, his elbow propped up on the table, attempting to look unphased. 

“Sorry,” Jess coughed out. “D- do you think we’ll have enough room? I mean, we don’t have that many chairs and-“ 

“Oh don’t be silly, it’ll be fine. Besides, the table extends and I’m sure we’ll find some other chairs upstairs," Mrs. Logan butt in. Billy remembered the room upstairs with all the old, mismatched furniture, and wondered if any of those chairs would be in any condition to be sat on, considering most were missing legs. 

“Alright,” Jess said in a small voice, pushing her food around with her fork. It wasn’t the idea of having Billy over for Christmas Eve that made her uneasy, rather, the fact that she would be having Billy over for Christmas Eve with Steve Harrington. It will be a whole evening. A whole evening of Harrington and Hargrove in the same house. At the same table. And she would be in the middle of it. 

The vexatious glint in his eye was still there as he removed his hand from in front of his mouth and looked back and forth between her parents. “That sounds great. Can’t wait.” He then smiled over at Jess before bringing back his attention to his food and began to eat again. “By the way Mrs. Logan, dinner is amazing.”

Jess continued to sneak annoyed glances at Billy, who was smugly eating his dinner, apparently amused at what just happened. When everything was finished and both Billy and Jess brought the remaining dishes back to the kitchen, Billy once again spoke up. 

“Thank you so much for tonight, but I should get going soon. Again, Mrs. Logan, dinner was great.” 

“Well thank you for stopping by, don’t be a stranger!” Mrs. Logan called out to him. 

Billy strutted his way back to Jess, who was standing at the landing of her stairs by the entryway. As he reached out for the doorknob, he looked down at Jess, towering over her until he bent down so his lips were just at her ear. 

“See you tonight, gorgeous.”

@nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove stranger things #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove antis dni #billy deserved better #billy hargrove deserved better #billy hargrove x oc #billy fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #billy antis dni

[ficjoelispunk]

Ch 05 - RELIEF

You can find the continuation here

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Author's Note: Guys, like always, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, don't give up on me, translating is not easy, but I did my best. Correct me as much as you can. Thanks.

After the attack, see so many lives lost by a rude mistake, for overestimating your enemy. Pinzón resigned.

So Colonel Carrillo took his place. Bringing controversies about their methods. But you couldn't deny that he passed on trust to people. He was the only one who really scared Escobar.

Peña was excited. But Carrillo's methods were really peculiar. Escobar used the children to protect himself and pass on information as scouts. And as soon as Carrillo came back, and paraded through the streets with a train of 100 men, to make a fuss you began to question the sanity of the new Colonel.

Maybe you were traumatized. Because when you became aware, you wanted to find a way to prevent it, thinking if if there was another attack, it would be 100 men killed. But Carrillo had a free pass given directly by President Gavilla, and nothing could be done.

After the incident with the soldiers. You and Javier had apparently given a "truce". But it wasn't something 100% right. You still quarreled often. In fact, every time you met, especially if it was during working hours.

After your kiss, you both made a point of simply pretending that nothing had happened. Simply ignoring and not saying anything about it. Both dealing with the situation with a lot of maturity. You two have avoided each other.

But your line of reasoning was as follows, if he was the one who kissed you, he should explain himself. After all, you didn't grab anyone. Despite having reciprocated, until a certain point. Anyway, it was something you really wanted to ignore.

It's better that way.

It is important to emphasize that working in the same place as the individual in question did not help at all.

So, first lesson: don't get involved with co-workers. Never. Under no circumstances.

"Shit! Damn it!" You hit the copying machine.

"It's fucking 6:50 a.m.," Peña murmured at the door of the copy room. "Calm down"

You closed your eyes. And he sighed.

"Perfect."

He took a step towards you. You haven't looked at him yet.

"What happened?" His voice calms and hoarse.

He does it on purpose.

"I don't know. I think the paper got stuck inside, and chewed some copies..." you ran your hands over your face, exhausted.

"You need to put fewer leaves..."

"Really? Wow, as I could imagine... maybe because it's written in the fucking opening, "up to 10 sheets" I know how to read Agent Peña"

"Jesus! You're tireless. Allow yourself a truce. Let me solve the problem with the copier, and we pretend it never happened"

"Yeah, you're great in that"

"In that what?"

You meant pretending that certain things had never happened, but you answered something else.

“Copiers”

He rolled his eyes.

Javier walked to you, stopping next to you. The fact that he walked towards you left you with your legs soft. How stupid it is to have your whole body responding to a man, as if you were a teenager.

"Excuse me," he said already next to you, making a gesture with his hands so that you could move so that he could handle the copier.

He opened the lid, skillfully and removed the papers that had been curled and chewed by the copier. It's closed. And he made a gesture with his hands as if he had done magic.

You rolled your eyes.

"None "thank you Javi"?"

How about, "get out of my face Javi"?"

"You really need someone to take all this tension away from you dear, otherwise you will explode at any moment..."

Javier liked to meet you, bump into you, have the minimum amount of time to provoke you or talk to you. He liked the smell of your perfume, and the symptoms you caused in his body.

You were unpredictable and surprising. There hasn't been a day since you arrived in Bogotá perched in Noonan, that he didn't wish he could touch you.

Everything about you was inviting to him. Your soft skin. Your hair that falls messy perfectly from your hairstyles. Your hands moving the papers. The noise of the heel of your shoe when you walked. You were the perfect distraction.

Your lips. Which often irritated him. Javier thought of so many possible ways to silence your lips. That kiss was one of the ways he imagined for months. It made you connect in a more tacit way. But he promised himself not to move forward like this with you anymore.

Since then, he's only been orbiting over you. Maybe, waiting for a new opportunity. The fact that you were there within the reach of his eyes all fucking day was a torture, and a relief.

He thought several times about talking to you about what happened in the file room. But he couldn't think of anything to talk about. And he has more things to worry about than that. Much more things. He doesn't have time for relationships. Never had it.

Javier organized himself to go out with the police, and he noticed your restlessness. Your chest would go up and decide on your shirt. And your forehead made a soft crease of concern.

As he prepared, his eyes met his own. Javier seemed too excited. Too anxious.

He ran in great strides, jumping the stairs every two steps, to his table. Javier didn't think much about what he was going to do. Especially in relation to you, it was always driven by impulses.

You followed his movement, so about the eyelashes.

"Are you okay?" He asked leaning over the table, as he always did.

You nodded.

His look has changed. And he made himself calmer. Time-consuming. Looking at you. The eyes are melting little by little.

"No need to worry. We'll be back in a few hours"

You looked at him over his eyelashes.

"I'm not worried" you tried to hold a smile.

He smiled.

"No?"

"Nop”

"Okay, so if I die..."

"Shut up, Agent Peña" you shuddered closing your eyes tightly.

He smiled.

"It's Javi, and you seem worried..."

You opened your mouth to speak...

"Peña" Murphy called him.

He turned around. Murphy gestured with his arms.

"Don't miss me" he patted your table three.

You pointed to the door.

"Go"

He laughed.

And incredibly in this little moment. You felt calmer. Your breathing was stable. And your expression was soft, because you was smiling, while shaking your head.

With this operation they were able to locate basically all the points that the scouts were. Carrillo had his methods, but he also had his merits. He was smart. And articulate.

You, Murphy, Edward, Peña, Carrillo and Trujillo spent the afternoon accessing the recordings of the wiretaps that the train was able to record. And separating the locations. The scouts made contact informing where the train was passing, and you could get an idea of where more or less the warning points were.

Colonel Carrillo organized the way of approaching the scouts. And you recorded everything, to document the operation. With it there, now you hardly needed to worry about the requirements, you needed to worry about the file, the records of the operations.

"Peña, you're coming with me. Murphy, Jacoby and you stay here, to guide us" Carrillo gave the orders.

You nodded.

Peña looked at you for a few minutes before leaving.

"Be careful outside," you said to both of them.

And that's how the night started.

On the radio you could follow the operation with Murphy, listening to the capture of the scouts. It was terribly agonizing just to listen. You had the feeling that at any moment something would go wrong.

You were walking from one side to the other, nibbling on the loose skin of your nail.

"Stay calm," Murphy said on a break.

You looked at him.

"It's going to sink the ground from walking on the same place so much," he smiled.

You looked around the room trying to find a new focus.

"They're doing well"

You nodded. And sat down.

And then the radio whistled.

"Sixth scout caught" was Peña's voice.

Murphy looked at you, smiling. Victorious.

You smiled back. Sighing deeply, relieved. Happy. It was worthy of a victory after so much struggle. You deserved an advantage.

"Go get some rest," Murphy said.

You nodded, getting up from the chair.

"You should do the same," you said as you passed by him.

He nodded.

You knew he wouldn't do that.

And you wouldn't be able to sleep either. You haven't been able to have a sleep routine for weeks. That was the price you got for sleeping where you worked.

It turns out that you went to your dorm, but you couldn't nail your eye even if you were tired. It was as if you had taken too much caffeine and your body did not succumb to fatigue.

When this happened, you left, and sometimes you stayed in the file room. There was a comforting melancholy in that room smelling of old paper, silent, illuminated by the moon.

Today was no different. You went there. You spent some time reading something about some operations, and when you was returning to the dormitory, when you turned the corridor you came face to face with Agent Peña.

"Hey" you spoke with your hand on his chest to avoid the thud "you scared me" you smiled blandly.

He didn't say anything.

You removed your hands from his chest quickly.

"Congratulations, everything worked out, didn't it? Where are the scouts? Have you started the questions?" You asked studying his face.

"They are children" he murmured.

Well, that was a possibility, but it was still a surprise.

Javier didn't look at you, he looked over your head. The whole body is stiff, the hands on the waist. Swinging the weight of the body between one leg and another.

"Are you okay?" You were trying to find his eyes.

"Yes, Carrillo let them go, tried another method," he murmured, the sound of the voice failing.

You've seen him like this very few times.

"Released? Another method? What do you mean?" You asked confused.

He wanted to get out of your way, but you took a step to the side finding him. He closed his eyes, turning his face, unhappy, as he ran his fingers through his nose.

"Don't worry about that" he took another step to the side.

You followed him.

"Hey" you held his arm gently "talk to me" you looked for his eyes, talking gently to him.

He finally looked at you. The dark eyes, but not of anger, were pain, resentment, guilt, sadness.

You frowned. Worried. It was strange to see Peña in all his grandeur and arrogance, disarmed in this way, he seemed so vulnerable. A man who seemed indestructible with an impenetrable shell, now so fragile in front of you, brought you a little affliction. When he always passed a certain security.

He wanted to get out of your way, but you stood in front of him following your body with your hands in his arms.

You knew that if he really wanted to, he could go over you and you would never reach him. But instead he was still there, with you.

"What happened?" You insisted.

He swallowed it dry. Hesitant.

"Carrillo pointed the gun at the head of one of the boys and shot" he paused still looking deep into his eyes "to give a fucking message" the voice so thick coming out in a murmur.

You were silent looking at each other for a few minutes.

When Javi abruptly advanced on top of you, sticking your back to the wall and pressing his lips on yours.

This urgent time, you couldn't resist. You immediately kissed back. You missed that. Their mouths fit perfectly. Javier was aggressively immediate. You could barely breathe.

You started pushing him gently. Just to separate your lips. He didn't let his hands off your face, but he gave you a break.

"I need you" he spoke with his lips brushing yours, his breath panting “Fuck, I need you"

You held his fists around your face.

"Okay," you whispered.

He pressed his lips on yours again, but this time calmer. More organized. You ran your arms over his shoulders, until your hands were tangled in his hair.

Javier passed his hands through the back of your thigh and lifted you to hold her on his lap. You held yourself around his neck crossing your legs around his waist. He walked to the archive room a little behind you, with you on his lap while kissing you.

He opened the door, passed with you, closing the door with his feet. Javier took you to the table at the back of the room. Putting you sitting on the table.

His hands went to your face, and went down your neck, gently passing over your breasts, instinctively making you arch towards him. Your clitoris was throbbing painfully, with the heat radiating through your body. Your lips met.

Javier leaned his forehead on his, panting, in an impasse. You had your hands intertwined in his hair.

"Maybe it's better if we don't do this right now," he murmured, as he placed his arms on the table on the side of your body, leaning, leaning to be at the same height as you.

You ran your hand over his face. You thought of some provocative answers, but that's not what came out of your mouth.

"What do you want to do?" You whispered.

He walked away a little, almost nothing, just to look at you.

"I don't know if I want to do this to you," he said.

You smashed your eyes, and smiled in surprise.

"Okay, then" you bit your lips.

Wait. What?

He looked at you, thinking better about what he had said.

"No.." he shook his head looking down "that's not what I meant..."

"So, explain it to me"

He raised his head to look at you, giving a dull smile.

"You can talk to me" you held his face, and he closed his eyes to your touch "whatever it is, you've already told me worse things..." you tried to comfort him.

After a moment of silence, and a sigh.

"I do this with..." he hesitated "you know..."

"Prostitutes? Who could have imagined..." You were ironic.

He looked at the ceiling, perhaps embarrassed, to admit it in front of him.

"It relieves me, it distracts me in situations like this," he murmured, almost a whisper, with his head down avoiding your gaze.

So, maybe now some things would start to make sense. And a lot of things had an explanation. Javier relieved the tension of working with sex. Sick? Maybe. But understandable.

"And what do you do with them?" You murmured, weighing your breath, and crawling forward to the edge of the table, almost sinking Javier's head into your breasts.

You were already in your hell. What's wrong with hugging the devil?

He was still propped up on the table, but when he heard you he raised his head, his noses almost brushing each other, his eyes doubting what he had just heard.

You brought your lips closer to his.

"Show me" your voice was a soft whisper.

You could only hear your breaths. Your heart beat so hard in your chest, that you had the feeling that Javier could hear.

"You know I'm not a gentleman..."

"Maybe, I don't like the good boys..."

In an abrupt gesture, Javier raised your skirt to his waist, without reducing the distance from his faces, turning one hand on the table next to your hip to support himself, and with the other, opening you legs to him.

Your mouth opened, letting out a trembling sigh, with the touch of his hands on the skin of your thigh.

Javier would never treat you the way he treated the prostitutes he met. You were his prize. There, offering to provide the relief he sought in other bodies, but now you offered yours. Not even in his best dreams, you would be like that, so perfect.

"You're already wet for me, aren't you?"

You closed your eyes as his fingers slid smoothly down your thigh, rising towards your panties.

"No" was more of a sigh than an answer.

Javier gave some light kisses on your neck. Sending goosebumps through your body.

Your hands were in his hair.

And when he felt the touch of his finger on the fabric of your panties, brushing your greeting so wet that it passed the moisture into the fabric. You pulled your breath and didn't breathe anymore.

He laughed softly. Victorious. Yes, you were dripping through it.

He took a break. Studying your face. The signs of pleasure and anxiety in the face. Your mouth open, and your eyebrows furrowed. Javier tortured you, wondering how much you wanted the relief of his touch in your pussy.

When he finally touched your middle, you let out the air. And he started sliding his finger over you. Your hands pulled his hair gently, as his finger went up and down.

"I always knew that your desire for me flowed down your legs"

"Javi..." you sighed, eyes closed.

He smiled maliciously at you calling him Javi, for him, he was always Agent Peña. But now for you, he was just Javi.

You felt the touch of his finger finally touch your skin when he pulled the fabric of your panties to the side. Your body had a spasm.

"Don't worry hermosa, I'll relieve your tension, I'll take care of you"

Your breathing was panting. You were needy and desperate, but fuck, you didn't care, the situation was too intoxicating at that moment for you to think clearly.

And finally the relief came, you were so horny, that the simple touch of Javier's fingers on your clitoris could have made you cum.

"You're so sensitive" Javier lowered his finger to your entrance, circling it to bring your lubrication all over his pussy, "You needed this a long time ago, didn't you, baby?"

Javier then slid his finger bringing your wet to your clit, and pressing his finger on it as he circled the set of rigid nerves that was accumulating a tension that radiated shocks through your body.

"Jesus... I've never had something so wet in my hands..."

"I'm not what you usually have" between moans.

Your head tilted back.

"Yes" he murmured with his lips walking around your neck "usually they don't speak"

You started moving your hip together with Javier's fingers.

"Take off your shirt for me, cariño" his lips were in your ear, and the low timbre of his voice combined with the accent, sent a direct blow to your core.

You nodded, loosening his hair, unbuttoning your shirt.

His fingers kept making the movement of going down to your entrance, and going back around your clitoris. Your walls squeezed desperately around nothing. He seemed to have a fucking map, touching and moving his fingers exactly where you needed it.

"I wanted this from the moment I put my eyes on you in that damn office 3 fucking years ago" he murmured more to himself than to you.

"You're so fucking hot" His eyes danced through your naked tits as if it were a suitcase of money. With devotion.

"Do you always think of me?" You provoked.

His lips went down to your nipple. Javier passed his tongue through the sensitivity of your nipple, and this set of him stimulating your nipple, and your clitoris, made you tilt your head back again, releasing the air through your mouth.

Javier slid two fingers into you, your mouth swallowed the air, your feeling dividing you, making you follow the movement with your hip, biting your lips. He made the movement of going back and forth studying your body, introducing another big and thick finger inside you.

He let go of your nipple, the look of simulated piety.

"What happened, baby?" His mustache pinching the skin of your breast. "Can't you find your words?" He smiles.

And it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, to observe the pleasure he caused in you. You bit your lips, frowning. Your breasts went up and down without rhythm demonstrating your erratic breathing, depending on the movement he made inside you.

"So needy," he said with his eyes inebriated with your heavenly image, grinding your hips over his fingers, with your bare breasts in front of him.

Javier bowed his fingers finding the spongy point inside you, which made you have a spasm, and a moan from the bottom of your throat escaped through your half-open lips.

He pressed his thumb on your clitoris, and you contracted. Feeling the pressure of your orgasm form inside you. Javier lowered his head reaching your other nipple this time, passing his tongue gently over him, your skin shivered all over his body.

"You're close cariño, I feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers"

You moaned, while moving your hips together with Javier's fingers, biting your lips.

"Keep going." you sighed "Javi..." he smiled when he heard his name coming out of your mouth again, he wanted you to sing his name like this every day.

"Come for me, baby, " you obeyed, gave in to the collapse of your body "that's it, good girl" Javier passed his arm over your back, holding you, while your body leaned towards him at the same time as he moved his fingers inside you in the right way.

When you came down from your height. Your spasms of pleasure stopped, you passed your hands through his hair, to kiss him. But he walked away, you opened your eyes, confused.

Javier took his fingers out of you slowly.

"I want you to clean up this mess you made" his voice was dark, sexy.

You would do anything he asked you to do.

He stretched his fingers in front of you. You held his hand with your hands and opened your mouth.

"Look at me"

You looked. Obeying like a puppy. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, and you sucked, passing your tongue through them, taking every piece, and sucking as your tongue passed through the greeting of his fingers.

"Fuck" he whispered to himself. Wondering what your mouth could do with his cock already throbbing in his pants.

He studied you, darkly. Javier was slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth. Leaving a mental note for another way to make you shut up.

"I want to taste you," Javier approached to kiss you.

The kiss was deep, as if he took you. Your bittersweet taste in his mouth. His hands went down to your breasts, squeezing, painful, but pleasurable flesh.

"Tastes like heaven” he murmured, between your lips.

In an abrupt movement he pulled you off the table, pulled your panties leaving them on your ankle. Javier turned your back to him, your ass exposed to him.

Javier squeezes your ass, letting out a growl between thentes. His hand pushes your back down on the table.

You hear his zipper opening, and the belt buckle unraving. You get anxious, you wanted to see him. Keep his image in memory.

He separates your legs more with his hand. Your wet gets cold with the touch of the wind over your middle, and you stiffen your body.

"Relax for me, cariño" Javier whispered as he climbed his fingers up your lower leg. Passing through your hole, to get your wet, and pass over his cock.

You hear him get behind you. He stop for a moment.

"When I do this, I use protection, do you want me to put one on?"

You bite your lips. You turns back, and has a glimpse of Javier's cock. Taking a long time to look at him. He stroked himself, he's big, possibly the biggest you've ever seen, big enough that you would be apprehensive if you weren't desperate for him, you wanted to touch him. The thick veins for their fulfillment. You run your tongue through your lips.

"Do you want a picture?"

You roll your eyes.

And you feel the burning of a slap on your ass. You retract, whining.

“Don't have that kind of behavior with me"

You look at him, needy. While he caresses the heat that his slap left on your skin. Your eyes go down to his cock again, biting his lips.

God, you wanted him inside you urgently.

“Was that what you imagined?”

“Maybe”

He’s possessed.

“I’ll make you remember me for a week”

He approaches you.

"You didn't answer me"

"I want to feel you"

"Damn baby, asking me to fuck you like a whore, with your ass turned to me, did I win the fucking lottery?"

Javier doesn't waste time, the head of his cock goes up and down through his folds, you follow his movement listening to his breath weigh in anticipation, growling behind you. Until he fits the head of his cock in your entrance, it sinks into you slowly.

You pull the air with your mouth feeling it fill you.

He pushes his cock on you little by little, inch by inch. You feel the burning of the grip of his cock in your pussy, opening you in half, stretching you. You moan, and you can't help but move your hip in an attempt to adjust to its size.

You feel so fucking full.

"Fuck" he murmurs on top of you, pulling his breath, panting "so tight"

He holds his hip with both hands.

"Stop moving, darling," the hoarse voice.

You whine for him.

And he pushes the rest that was missing at once, you feel his hip in your ass. The table hitting the wall with his impulse.

"So tight I thought I wouldn't be able to make it to the end" he makes his way back and you almost collapse.

You moan.

Javier started slowly, but hard, dragging his cock back, so only his head was inside you, at a slow pace that you felt your head sliding inside you.

“Feels so good”

He pushed himself back to you hard, as if he couldn’t stand not being inside you again immediately, as if being without you was almost painful. He moaned

You lift your butt to him, and feel the burning of a slap on your ass, making you jump.

"I told you not to move" his voice between you.

Javier was sure that if you moved this hot way with his cock I would come in from you, it wouldn't last for just 1 minute. You were so tight, he thanked him for making you cum before, even so wet for him, it would be hard to penetrate you if you weren't excited enough.

You try to obey, but feeling his cock inside you filling you is so good, that you can't help it, you want more from him, you want him to be deep in you.

"Javi..." your voice is trembling, you bite your lips.

And he seems to read your thoughts. His thrusts inside you become faster. More violent. You feel his cock in your stomach, a pleasant pain to know that he is all inside if you.

Javier sinks into you hard. Their hips hitting each other making obscene sounds.

The head of his cock was almost permanently against the point inside you that made your back arch on him and your pussy was so tight around him that you were sure you couldn’t take it anymore.

Javi pulls you to stand up. And you support your leg on the table in front of you, being more open to him, giving him more access.

He growls at you, over your hair, pulling your hair to the side, to bite your skin on your shoulders, suck your neck.

Everything was so intense that you didn’t seem to worry about someone listening to you both in there.

"Javi" you seemed to hum his name, which made him get so close to the edge of ejaculation, that he could hardly hold it before making you cum once again.

“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you” He murmured between his ears in the ear “Please, babe, fuck, please come for me…” 

You held the pulp of your ass, opening it for him.

"Ahhh" the heavy air of pleasure coming out of your mouth "Javi... ahn, that's it, oh, Javi..."

That was a song for Javier Peña's ears. He would cum just hearing you talk to him like that.

You collapse on his cock, your sight turns white, your body in shock with the discharge of pleasure, he feels your walls squeezing around him, and he can't hold it anymore, cumming on you.

Grubbing his cock deep into you. You feel his jets fill you. He sighs, still pressing deep into his pussy.

You are panting. He holds your body, still feeling your spasms. Your body gets soft, as if you turned into gelatin.

He rests his head on his back as he regains his breath, Javi's hands holding your abdomen. You felt him coming out of you. You whined.

He kissed the skin of his back, while squeezing your ass, lowering his skirt.

You reached for your shirt, and you were wearing it, when you turned to Javier who was fixing him pants.

You took a step in his direction.

Javier looked at you with intensity, still regulating his breathing, his eyes melted like lava in a volcano.

"Do you feel better?" You raise your hand to fix his hair that you made clumsy.

He grabs your waist pulling you to him. Nodding and kissing your forehead.

You smile.

"Good night, Agent Peña"

You got rid of his grip, to walk when he held your arm, and pulled for a slow, careful kiss, from which it was difficult to distance yourself. You walked away from him, against his will, because he held your waist firmly against his body.

Javier seemed drunk after this sex you had. And you found it hard to believe that he treated a prostitute like that.

He held your hand as you walked away.

Javier didn't want you to leave. For the first time he wanted something after sex. So used to simply opening your wallet and not having to worry about the later.

Everyone knew that he was the kind of man who would under no circumstances run after someone, unless he was a criminal. That he used people to achieve his goals, and that he wouldn't call the next day.

But you were already prepared for that.

But Javier wanted to take you to his bed, let you fall asleep in his arms, wake you up to sink into you, again, again and again. He wanted to smell you, the warmth of your skin. He wanted you for so long, and now that he had it, he felt so good inside you that having just that from you wasn't enough.

With other women he had something momentary. The relief was in that sexual warmth. Then he just wanted them to leave. It's always been like that. He wouldn't even know if he would know what to do after sex, for so long that he didn't have to worry about this kind of thing.

And that's where he realized how fucked up he was. The only thing he managed was to wish you a good night.

"Good night, Mrs. Assistant"

You smiled. You let go of his hand. And you left the file room, feeling him run down his legs.

#javier pena x y/n #pedro pascal #javier pena fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #narcos

[natashawritesstuff]

enemies to lovers hits

season 4 spoilers

How to put it lightly? You fucking hate Suna Rintarou.

You’d think because you’re both volleyball players you’d get along. Wrong. The third-year vice captain proves to be the most infuriating person you’ve had the displeasure of meeting. It started back when you were first years.

“Alright teams,” Coach Kurosu’s voice echoed throughout the gym. He plastered on a smile for the girl's and boys volleyball team, for the group of teenagers including you to stare back at him unamused. His smile drops. “There’s a schedule posted for gym times, stick to it. At unofficial practice times, the court comes first come first serve. Play nice. I don’t want to hear any trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” both teams begrudgingly agreed. 

Weeks later, you and some of your teammates were in the gym practicing when the doors loudly swung open loudly, following the entrance of the Miya twins and Suna.

“Get out,” Atsumu ordered.

“Excuse me?” your friend, and team setter Rai, asked with a sarcastic smile.

“Get out,” Atsumu repeated.

“Listen here blondie,” Nyoko, the libero chimed in, “I’m not sure if the bleach went to your head and messed up your already defected brain, but it’s a free day, and we were here first.”

“Let’s just go,” Osamu suggested.

“Are you kidding me?” Atsumu growled.

“Yes, listen to smart brother, who clearly got more oxygen in the womb,” Nyoko added and Rai high-fived her in approval. 

“No, coach said he doesn’t want any trouble,” Osamu recalled and Suna scoffed which caused your eyes to dart over towards him in the corner. 

“Then they should just leave,” he muttered. 

“What was that?” you asked.

“You guys should just leave. We’ll probably make better use of it anyways.”

“You’re Suna right?” you wondered as you stepped closer and he did the same. 

“Yeah.”

“Thought I recognized you, you’re that benchwarmer with the floppy hair.”

“Yeah, and you’re a spiker? A pretty good one, sad no one comes to your games to see.”

“I’d rather be good for no one than sit on the bench for an audience.”

“Audience, you do know that word.”

“You know you’re a di-”

“Okay! Let’s just go,” Rai said. 

“What? No, we were here first,” you reminded her. 

“Listen to yer friend,” Atsumu mocked and your blood boiled. 

“Whatever.” 

You grabbed your things and just as you headed out you turned around, and you swore, you saw that floppy-haired dick smile. And from that day on, you knew, you’d never hate anyone more. 

“I’m gonna kill you!” you screamed, barging into the boys team practice.

“Should we-” Osamu began to wonder but Aran cut him off, “let them tire out,” as by then the two of you were second years and everyone knew of your dynamic.

“Calm down,” was all he said. 

“Calm down? You tore down all of the flyers for our game day, no one showed up!”

“What’s the difference?” he asked, not even giving you his full attention as he rifled through his duffel bag.

“Looking for something?” “My knee-”

“Knee pads?” you finished his sentence for him and he looked up. “Check the trash you piece of shit.”

You stormed off and passed by Coach Kurosu who eyed you down as he asked, “do you even remember what I said? “No trouble, yeah. Good luck at nationals benchwarmer! See?”

You were fuming for a week, especially since your team, unfortunately, did not make the qualifying round. The whole week surrounding nationals you were holed up in the school gym, spiking till your hands were raw. You hit the ball loudly against the wall and waited for the sound of it to rebound but strangely, it never came. You turned around to see Suna holding the ball with his lazy eyes and floppy hair, which dropped lower than usual.

“Hey,” he all but whispered.

“Hey.”

Suna went by the wall you previously abused and slid down. 

“I- I’m sorry, you guys didn’t make it.”

“A whole crowd of people, watching us fail.”

“You didn’t fail, you’re not a bad team, they’re just- better….this time at least,” you said, trying to be comforting as you sat down next to him.

“....same with you,” he mumbled. 

“What?”

“With your game, sorry you lost…I guess.”

“You didn’t have to add that I guess.”

“Whatever.”

You two sat in silence for a few minutes before you admitted, “you know, you’re not too bad, benchwarmer.”

“You either, Y/N.” You’re not sure what it is but something about how the way he says your name, and for a moment, just a moment you think-

“This doesn’t make us friends.”

“Oh of course not.”

And the lesson of second year, was that maybe, just maybe Suna didn’t have to be someone you hate, maybe even someone you lik- tolerate. 

When you're in your third year, you are made captain and Suna is made vice. So often when discussing overall club matters you find yourselves seeking out the other. 

“I mean if you need more team bonding, tell Tsumu to host something. We have team sleepovers once a month you know,” you told him as he walked you to your locker. You put your backpack inside, and traded it out for your volleyball bag. 

“And that’ll work?”

“Like a charm…or not who knows,” you joked.

“You’re not funny,” he said unamused and you rolled your eyes as you headed to the gym. 

“I gotta go, we have to do our team rituals before our season opener.” “Last one, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda relieved honestly. Last time getting excited for a season of no one watching you play.”

“Y/N I was kidding-”

“You were right, no one watches. It’s fine though, it’s not like I’m captain or anything.” You laughed, trying to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. “Um, good luck with your bonding thing though, really.”

That night you and Rai, who is now vice-captain, spend fifteen minutes hyping up your team, getting them ready for the game. When you’re through the morale is high and everyone seems ready to play. You all head out into the gym, you leading the group only for you to stop in your tracks when you see it: a crowd. 

“Are we in the wrong gym?” Nyoko wondered. 

The stands were packed, you’d have thought boys team was the one on the court with how many of Atsumu’s fangirls were present. The student section was filled to the brim and at the back of was the boys volleyball team themselves, Including Suna himself. You stared up at him with a confused smile and he was too far away to make it out for sure but he mouthed something, and it looked a lot like the word bonding. 

For a moment, a small one, a microscopic, millisecond, you thought maybe, you didn’t have to hate him after all. Maybe you could be friends, and maybe, you could be more. 

Inarizaki Masterlist 

Return to Main Masterlist

#haikyuu suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst to fluff #enimies to friends to lovers #enimies to lovers #inarizaki #atsumu miya #miya osamu #suna rintaro haikyuu #hq suna #suna rinatro #suna headcanons #hq

[arrowfleur]

They don’t get to change you

Asher/David

Words: 3.4k Read it on ao3 here!

Asher is involved in a hazing incident at college. David comforts him.

First section under the cut <3

Asher had never felt more humiliated in his life. He tried not to think about the nights events as he pressed the key card against the lock. With one arm clinging to his side, he used his spare hand to slide the door shut behind him without making too much noise. He knew David would be asleep.

It had made sense for them to share a dorm together when they went to college, even though they were doing two completely different courses. Even though Asher was messy and David was somewhat of a neat freak. Even though Asher was a night owl and David went to bed at 10pm almost every night. It had never even crossed his mind that they wouldn’t share a room together. God-knows they’d always shared everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

“Ash?”

Asher moved slowly over to the cupboard by the bathroom to grab a fresh towel. He knew David knew it was him. Pack could usually tell. David could always tell. It was more just his way of asking if everything was alright without actually asking.

Sometimes if Asher had been excited for a night out, he’d sit down and tell David about it whilst he was still half asleep. That way, Asher could get all his energy out whilst David at least got some level of rest.

To be fair to David he did at least try to listen, quiet ‘Huh's?’ and ‘Yeah’s’ morphing into soft snores and slow breaths. Asher didn’t mind, he knew he could be a lot at times.

But this time he really didn’t feel like keeping David up at till ass o-clock in the morning just to inform him that his new team had all turned out to be immature assholes.

“Asher?” David spoke a little louder this time.

Asher braced himself, forcing in a slightly deeper breath then he could manage. “Yeah buddy it’s me. Sorry didn’t mean to wake you.” He cringed at the way his voice broke slightly, grabbing some clean boxers and a t-shirt and standing up as tall as he could. Like it would make him seem sturdy.

He could hear the bedsheets ruffling again, as if David was sitting up. Shit he’d noticed. Of course, he’d noticed, Asher was never this quiet.

“Are you ok?”

David’s voice was rougher and deeper than usual from sleep but Asher could still hear the genuine concern in his tone.

Asher turned towards the bathroom not bothering to look over at his best friend. He didn’t need to.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He laughed as if David’s concern was completely unfounded. “Just getting a shower, you can go back to sleep.”

And with that he slipped into the bathroom. He wasn’t planning to lie to David. He’d tell him what happened eventually but right now all he wanted was to wash the sticky beer out of his hair and go to bed.

Asher squinted when he turned the light on, eyes adjusting to the brightness as he stripped off his clothes. He caught his reflection in the mirror, and turned away once he noticed those damn lines across his face.

He stepped into the shower, not bothering to let the water heat beforehand. Asher leant his head back, willing the water to run over his eyes, the coldness of it numbing the aches across his torso.

He stood like that for a while, thinking.

He’d been so proud when he’d seen his name on the list for the varsity team. He was the only freshman on there, his Shifter biology played a part in it, making him stronger and faster than most teenagers plus he’d practised damn hard too.

Although he knew it might take his team-mates a little while to warm up to him, especially since one of their friends would have been put onto JV to make space for him, Asher wasn’t too worried. He had always been good at making friends. It was one of his best qualities.

Thats why he didn’t question it when his team-mates invited him to a party. Why he was possibly less apprehensive than he should have been when they told him to go down to the basement with them. And why the way they had treated him was so hard to comprehend.

Drink Up Mutt

His eyes flung open as the sound of his team-mates laughing bounced around his head. Quickly, he washed his body. Biting his lip so he wouldn't grunt as the sponge glided over his bruising side.

He barely dried off, running the towel over himself once before getting dressed and making his way to bed.

He just needed to sleep it off.

Read the rest on A03!

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted asher #redactedverse #arrowsqueue #redacted fanfiction #oneshot #fanfiction #a03 fic

[fairly-fairy-shampoo]

“In Every Universe”

☀️Summary: Everything about your situationship with Yeonjun seemed perfect. There were no rules, no romantic feelings, and you stayed friends. But when jealousy leads to a falling out between the two of you, Yeonjun is forced to look inward and reevaluate his feeling for you as well was what kind of relationship he wants with you. The question is, are his feeling more powerful then fate?

genre: NSFW, FLUFF, ANGST

pairing: yeonjun × fem!reader × Soobin

Warnings: none

Chapter 3

Yeonjun does not consider himself a jealous or possessive person. He’s what you would call a “flirt”. Sometimes he would act on it but mostly he just enjoyed the interactions and attention. He thrives on it. And it makes sense with the company he keeps outside of his members and others from his company. You were the same. It was how you met actually, a few years back. YOU both talk …. A LOT! And he really enjoyed the sense of comfort you exuded in him right away. He will admit, he was a little shit back then. Top trainee, handsome, getting constant praise from all. He found you cute and fun to be around and enjoyed how you sprung to “match his energy.” Another thing was your physical touch. You were so open to it and the more the two of you became close, the more it became so natural and platonic– until it wasn’t.

But still, he wasn’t (not) a possessive person.

After you got older, he met and got with people and you did the same. You would share your experiences with each other and cringe or enjoy the stories and go on about your day like normal. It’s never set him off. NEVER. Why would it? You’re not his girlfriend. You’re his best friend. But he’d be lying if seeing you with Jackson FUCKING Wang didn’t make his stomach curl JUST a bit.

Now, if it was just normal talking there would be no issue, there’s a lot of idols and celebrities around. But the way he had you leaning on the wall so you had to look up at him (the innocent doe eye fuck me look!) and his hand seemed to have fallen to hold your waist and he’s whispering in your ear, having you giggle about god knows what he said. Have you fucked with him before this? He wanted to go over there more than anything and stake his claim. But he’s a idol first, he can’t act out like that, ESPECIALLY not to a superior as famous as Jackson fucking Wang. But don’t you know better? HE’S a man-whore, why him? Sure, Yeonjun could be considered the same thing, but he didn’t constantly fuck around, especially not with A list celebs and idols. It’s too complicated so you’re the only one. But he’d be lying if his first choice was to sleep around with “normal people” (you hated when he said that) so in that sense yeah, he was he guesses, but Jackson was so bold and open about it that it boiled his blood.

He truly had no right to feel this way. You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t date, but rather slept together here and there. And you did have the rule that you could be with other people. It all started when you lost your virginity to each other back when you were teenagers. And from there, it was a comfortable, safe space for anything between the two of YOU.

If only he’d known at the time that changing the dynamics between you two and acting like nothing changed would open up a world of problems. Since the the two of you would frequently hang out and debrief with much excitement and little to no jealousy as well as no shaming. Which was a big one for you. He didn’t know it then but he was going to break that promise. But, at this moment, he didn’t know how to feel. He knew he was angry but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. Deep down he did. But right now, the only thing that he wanted was to punch out Jackson FUCKING Wang! For touching his ….. for touching you! And making you uncomfortable. She pushed herself away from the wall and headed towards him. Yeonjun was so livid he didn’t even notice her saunter over to him. Pretending to get herself another drink, she inches closer to him so she could whisper.

“Junie come on, let’s go!” Your hushed tone snapped him back to reality. Your eyes sneakily meet his but he fully turned to face you, staring you down which startled you quite a bit. You looked around, hoping no one would notice.

“Where to.” He said in an unreadable tone.

“Jackson is holding an after party and we’re both invited! So let’s go, I’m getting bored and people are starting to leave anyway.”

You start to head for the door, knowing that he should wait a few seconds to follow after so no one gets suspicious. You’d have to take separate cars anyways. Is that why you were talking with him and flirting– to secure entry to the after party? But he’s Choi Yeonjun! The Ace of Hybe. 4th Gen It boy. The list goes on and on. So why? He finally waited long enough and made his way out. He prays he’s right. Cause he can feel something bubbling and doesn’t know if he can hold back if he’s wrong.

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #perv!soobin #tomorrow by together smut #txt smut #txt x reader #txt #jealous yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #choi soobin #soobin #fwb couple #fwb #k pop smut #🌙.ieu masterlist

[baidar-oroq]

The Writing Writer 3: Building The Perfect Beast

Random rambles about my writing, under the cut:

Work is progressing slowly on novel number 3 of Harvest of Souls for a wide variety of reasons. The principal one-the most important one-is that my father has been hospitalized twice since I completed The Unheavenly Creatures in July-the first happening two days after I finished it, an eight day stay caused by a likely mini-stroke, the second a five day stay last month caused by a preexisting heart condition. As I've been my parents caretaker basically since the pandemic started, my hobbies have always been done around their needs, but Dad's hospitalizations were essentially a dead stop for my work, obviously. (He seems to be on the mend now, so, fingers crossed.)

But even when I manage to find time to write, whoo boy, is it hard, and it's hard for a mechanical reason: I'm back in the set up stage again.

As far back as my earliest, teenaged FFVIII fanfics, I've had a particular way of writing stories: I do a lot of set up, building a roadmap towards an ending, putting everything in place before I unleash it all for the climax, a process I call sticking the landing. It's one of the reasons I'm rather fond of the Malazan Book of the Fallen series by Steven Erikson; he uses a similar method of weaving plots together (far more than I do!) until he lets fly and the climax of the book is a massive, breathless run to the finish. A lot of Unheavenly is that; once I determined the actual scope of the plot (which grew pretty massively as I wrote the first seven parts of it) I worked to get all of my characters to one single point, and then hit the gas for a climax that lasted almost seventy thousand words. And let me tell you that shit is FUN to write.

But now, with The Night Does Not Belong To God, I'm back to the set up. And writing the set up is tedious. Especially since the novel is still finding its voice; Unheavenly didn't find its voice until I went fuck it and made Baidar, Venat, and Y'shtola an OT3, where it started to sing. I know there's a moment when this story is going to open up to me and become what I want it to, but it's a few steps away, and I gotta move my pieces into place. And it feels like drudgery at times, but! I want people to see what I do in my head. I want to stick another landing like I did with Unheavenly!

So I make time when I can and I poke away at it, waiting for the moment it starts to sing.

[totallyexhausted]

South Park ff - Random Notes...

Just random ass notes in case my computer crashes... 

Dried blood soaked against his cuff as Kenny glanced down at his wrist, flicking the butt of his cigarette on the ground as he leaned against the school. This was a joke. Everything was a fucking joke. The blood lined against the creases on his wrists, reminding him that even death was a fucking joke as he cut against flesh he wished he didn’t have. Hell, he wished he didn’t have a lot of things… not that he had much. But his sister had caught him. She’d been there the first time, and last night… last night she’d caught him again. She’d caught him breaking a promise he’d made years ago. But it was so damn hard. Especially after Kevin.

           The 17-year-old groaned as he slammed his head against the wall behind him, letting his sleeve fall over his hands as he tightened the string around his hood, covering his mouth with the old fabric. He swallowed, nausea setting in his stomach as the pills he’d swallowed this morning mixed with whatever shit he could find to eat in the pantry. It was bare. Everything was. His mom hadn’t been to the store in a few weeks, and his dad only cared about himself.

           Kenny sighed again, reaching in his pocket and pulling an old joint from his jacket. His hands shaking as he cupped them against the stolen weed, flicking the lighter several times before a flame appeared. This was bullshit. The school was bullshit. The whole town was bullshit. Life. But he’d promised his sister after his brother died. He promised Karen he wouldn’t leave her. He’d promised her a lot of things. But things… things were hard. And she never really saw what he went through. No one did.

           The teenager closed his eyes, leaning against the yellow brick as cars started filling the parking lot. School would start soon. His friends would be here soon. And life would begin, again. Over and over and over. Fucking typical. Fucking exhausting.

           Kenny breathed in deeply, begging the musty joint to give him enough high to make it through the day; hoping it’d give him enough high. It had to. Because he had nothing else left. His stomach growled loudly, and Kenny grimaced, pressing a gloved hand against his hood as nausea ate away at the half stale Pop-tart he’d found in the back of the cabinet. It was cherry. One of the worst flavors in his opinion, but it was all he could find after letting his sister have the last bowl of cereal and water. At least she had eaten… honestly, that’s all that really mattered.

           The 17-year-old opened his eyes, coughing slightly as he flicked the rest of the joint on the ground, flipping off Mr. Mackey as the counselor glared in his direction, getting out of his car. It was forbidden to smoke on school grounds. Like the teenager gave a shit. He was the troubled poor kid after all, so it wasn’t like anything else was expected from him. Truth is, most students, including his own friends, would probably shit their pants if they knew he was number one in their class. He was poor, quiet, a bad influence, a rule breaker… he wasn’t supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be, according to Cartman, dumb as dirt. Because that’s how trash went. That’s how trash was viewed. That’s what trash was.

           A small smile broke out on his face as Kenny glanced towards the parking lot again, seeing Butters pull into the space next to the counselor. Ever since middle school, the sweet blonde kid had grown out of his awkward shy nature. He’d stopped being pushed over especially by Eric Cartman after a fight between the two that resulted in suspension for both. After that, Butters had changed. He was still kind and quiet, but he became cool and popular. He got a motorcycle when half the class got cars; he cut his shaggy hair, so it was short on the sides; and rumors were, he had a tattoo. But those were just rumors. And despite that, Kenny and the rest of South Park knew that the shy pushover who peed on stage once during a talent show, wasn’t the same little kid cowering under authority. Even Cartman was weary of him after Butter’s kicked his ass in front of the whole middle school class.

           Butters cut the engine, pulling his helmet from his head as he glanced in Kenny’s direction, nodding slightly. Kenny grinned, nodding back before directing his attention elsewhere. Stan pulled in, Kyle and Cartman in the backseat of his red 1999 shit box. Kenny pushed away from the wall, snorting as he made his way towards his friends.

           On Stan’s 16th, the teenager got his sister’s old car; a four wheeled piece of metal that died more than it started and as Cartman liked to say, “Made Stan look like he was driving around an old vagina.”

           But out of all of them, Stan was the only one who received a car. Even Cartman’s mom lectured about the safety and responsibility of vehicles, promising her son a car once he graduated high school later this year.

           “Hey, Kenny,” Stan said, shutting his door as Kyle threw his backpack at him. The teenager nodded, mumbling something behind his hood that sounded like, “Moffppftorning, Asspppfmmts.”

           “Goddamn, Stan, next time you pick me up in this, at least stop driving like your sister,” Cartman said as he slammed Stan’s door, taking a sip from his black coffee. Kenny rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pocket. They did this every morning.

           Ever since the summer before junior year last year, Cartman had lost weight and grown several feet, now sitting at the second tallest kid in their senior class. He stopped wearing his hat too, letting his brown messy hair become more of a signature than his ugly blue and yellow hat, even though he still wore a stupid red jacket. And despite still being an immature dick, his attitude had mellowed down some, which probably had something to do with the fact that he’d dated several girls last year, and he’d become slightly popular with the cheerleading squad- which was un-fucking-believable, honestly.  

           Stan and Kyle on the other hand were mostly the same. Kyle still stuck around even after Cartman’s relentless jokes and teasing. He still questioned everything and refused to bend to anyone’s will. He too had ditched his hat, cutting his hair down enough to run gel through it daily in hopes of keeping his curls down, but by the end of the day, it was still a messy afro. Him and Stan were pretty much the same height and built. And Stan and Wendy were still off and on monthly, and despite everything they’d been through, Kenny was pretty sure those two would end up married. And ever since Stan’s dad came out as the pop icon, Lorde, the teenager became widely popular in school and South Park.

           The bell rang behind them, sending shivers down the 17-year-old’s spine as he sighed. He mumbled something to himself as he followed his friends towards the door, wishing he’d just skipped, or at least stolen better weed from his father before leaving this morning. Not like the smell of stale alcohol, cigarettes and weed lingering on his clothes wasn’t enough to get high off. He glanced down at the blood still etched against the orange fabric, the rusty razorblade cutting into the scars on his stomach as it laid in his hoodie pocket. His sister had caught him… but that didn’t mean he’d stop. He just had to wait until she wasn’t around.

 …………………………………………………………………………………………………….

             Weak, Cartman muttered

Butter’s scar on his left eye from when they were kids

#south park #kenny mccormick #Kenny takes hood off #Butters Stotch #kenny x butters #eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #ff

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #155

Have you ever held hands with someone in a car? Yeah; I did this once first with Juan, then plenty with Jason and I do it lots with Girt too.

Would you ever try being a vegetarian? I did try, but it's simply not practical with how absolutely absurdly picky I am, I would literally become malnourished very quickly. I'm not a person who can really make herself "get used" to certain foods either, when I don't like something, I cannot get that shit down.

Would you ever like to meet Marilyn Manson? Not particularly, I don't know much about him as a person but he's not very well-liked from what I HAVE heard. I'll stick with just enjoying his music.

What would you call yourself the King or Queen of? Catastrophizing, lol. Pretty fuckin' good at that.

What do you think the world would be a very lonely place without? Animals. Like yes, I know humans are animals, but you get what I mean. That sounds like a fucking miserable existence.

Do you have a favorite science topic? Yes, genetics, ESPECIALLY interesting mutations and stuff. I also love learning about the behaviors of social animals.

Do you watch any of the Olympic events? No, I have zero interest in that stuff.

Is teenage pregnancy common in your area? Well I don't really hang out with/know teenagers anymore, but when I was one, they were certainly a thing that you'd see in school.

Do you know anyone that’s ever suffered from post-natal depression? Yes, my older sister actually had it quite bad after having her youngest daughter, planned to be her last. I'm CERTAIN I know others too, this is very common.

When did you last use public transport? Literally not since I last came home via plane from visiting Sara years ago; I don't use other public transport.

What is your strangest fear? Probably whale sharks, like they are totally harmless but their mouths really freak me out.

Shane Dawson: funny or annoying? I never watched his older stuff that got lots of controversy, but I've found him rather funny and relatable when not acting in skits and such, but I haven't watched his stuff in a couple years.

What is the funniest YouTube video you know? Not sure, honestly. I have shit playing on YouTube constantly, I've just seen way too much lol.

Do you want to get married? If so, what color will your dress be? Yes, and it will probably be black, but I'm not guaranteeing that; I'm very open to trying various things when it's time to see what I gravitate towards.

Ever had a caricature done of yourself? How much was it, and were you satisfied with it? No.

Do you like peanut butter and fluff sandwiches? I haven't tried this since I was a kid, I might now, but back then I hated it, the texture of the marshmallow fluff was a STRONG no from me.

If you got married and then got divorced, would you want to re-marry? Eh, dunno.

Have you ever been accused of cheating? Nope.

How about having an eating disorder? No.

How long did your last relationship last? Before Girt, Sara and I were together like... around two years, I think? I don't remember anymore, says something about how attached I really was. At the time I did think it was what I wanted, but since falling in love with someone again, I know it absolutely was not as "real" as I tried to make myself think it was.

Have you ever been banned from anywhere? No.

Who was your date to senior prom? Jason.

Is your mom over 50? She's over 60.

Do you know anyone who’s biracial? Yes.

Are black bras sexy? sis wear a black bra around me and a bitch gonna misbehave 😭😭😭

Are you currently listening to anything? Yes, I've started watching WoolieVS's Dark Souls playthrough.

Would you ever consider getting breast implants? God no, I don't need it; all I ever want done to my breasts is a lift if I lose the weight I want to, because mass weight loss ain't gonna be nice to them.

Are you on birth control? Yes, but I didn't start it as a contraceptive; it was because my periods were unbearable, to where I'd have to stay in basically fetal position in bed pushing a heating pad against the cramping area. It's made them tolerable.

Do you know anyone who is bisexual? Yeah.

Does anyone call you babe? Rarely Girt.

Who would you tell, or who did you tell when you lost your virginity? I'm not gonna run to anyone to share it, I don't feel the need at all. I'll share that information where it's actually relevant.

What was the last video game you played, if any? Girt and I played more of Spyro 2: Ripto's Rage, the remake, yesterday while he was here.

Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat? Oh hell yes, I'd drive so many people fucking insane if they had to listen to how many times I repeat songs I get into lmfao

Is your body similar to your parents’ or siblings’ body? Mostly similar to Mom's, although she has always had very skinny legs, regardless of what weight she is. I hate being my weight, A LOT, but the ONE thing I am thankful for is at least my weight is evenly distributed throughout my body so I don't think anything looks unproportional or something.

Are you, in general, usually cold or warm? Too warm. I'm the person that's sweating when everyone else is comfortable.

Would you rather be somewhere very very hot or very very cold? Very cold, easy. Cold doesn't make you sweat every water you've ever drunk out of your body within five fuckin' minutes, nor does it drain you all to hell.

Are “school friends” and friends different to you? Well, yes, I think there are different levels of bonding there. "School friends" are the people you talk to and get along with fine at school, but you're not interested in pursuing a deeper, more personal relationship with them, and I think that's fine.

When is the last time you laid out and tanned? lol I don't think I've EVER done this, I am so uninterested in tanning.

Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? Ugh yes, I absolutely love them, wish I didn't.

Are you comfortable discussing bodily functions with your friends? Depends on how close we are.

What was the last book you had to read for school and did you enjoy it or were you just trying to get through? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, and I positively adored it, I'd consider it one of my favorite books if it wasn't for how insufferable the epilogue is to read. She is brilliantly, creatively, but also so accurately descriptive, like you read every page and you can envision everything with incredible detail. I think as a woman it was a book that hit me hard and is also just fucking terrifying, but honestly now, do you really doubt that that "dystopian future" isn't BASICALLY what TONS of especially conservative cis men would adore?????? It's haunting.

Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? Spaghetti.

What was the last food you got a random craving for? Pizza.

If your best friend was a fictional character, who would he/she be? Why? Hm... I dunno, I'm really bad at this sorta stuff, comparing people to fictional ones.

What’s the nicest thing your best friend has ever said to you? He's told me I make him a better person and that meant a lot. ;_; He's said so much sweet stuff, this is only one that's stuck with me.

What is your least favorite pizza topping? Probably mushrooms, off the top of my head. Well I've also heard of sardine pizza, which sounds absolutely repulsive, I'd never try it.

Who was the last blue-eyed person you spoke to? Not sure, but perhaps someone at the dentist's office today.

When you woke up this morning, what was on your mind? I was tired and also nervous about my dentist's appointment.

At this moment, what are you most looking forward to? This Friday since I'm getting my tattoo finished and also having dinner with Girt's family.

Who were the last 3 males you talked to? My boyfriend, nephew, and probably Ashley's husband.

If you have a pet, when did you last pet him/her? Last night; I went straight to the dentist when I got up and haven't been home all that long, but I am surprised he hasn't wandered into this room yet to say hi.

Do you have a favorite hair color or eye color on your preferred sex? It really doesn't matter to me, but I do like deep blue or emerald green eyes; they'd just be a plus. I tend to love unnaturally colored hair, but again, it really doesn't matter much. Neither trait is going to affect my odds of liking you.

The last song you listened to - does it remind you of anyone? Not directly, but it's about political division and needlessly villainizing each other in a way where you harm humanity as a whole, and I certainly know people who basically do that.

What did you have for lunch yesterday? I had a meal replacement shake; I was unable to chew almost at all the past few days with just how severe my tooth pain had become, so I've kinda just been making it off of liquids or things that require barely any chewing.

Are your eyes the same color as your sibling’s? No, except I think maybe Bobby? He's my half-brother though, we have different dads.

Have you received any compliments about your appearance today? No.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Not personally, he's some distant cousin anyway.

Do you have any appointments coming up? I always do; I see a neurologist tomorrow for a follow-up on my legs, despite how needless it is because we definitely know it wasn't a nerve problem now post-PT, tattoo appointment Friday, and I promise you there's more, I don't keep track of everything as tightly as my mom does.

Have you ever been to a petting zoo? What animals did you pet? I feel like Mom has said I've been to one before, but I don't remember at all, I must have been pretty young.

What do you think about nose piercings? I think they're very cute, especially nostril studs. I've had just that two or maybe even three times, but I know one time it closed from having to be taken out while I was hospitalized, and then the other I lost the stud for the billionth time and just let it close out of annoyance. I wanna get it redone though and get at least one good stud that curves well enough to stay in my damn nose.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body? A cyst and as of today one of my wisdom teeth. Getting the only other one I have out in a month.

Do you wear a one-piece or a two-piece when you go swimming? One-piece, but also with swimming pants because I'm not comfortable showing my legs.

Have you ever experienced déjà vu? Yes, it really freaks me out and makes me question everything lmfao

Do you have any scratches or bruises on your body right now? Only one that I know of on my neck that he didn't realize happened lol

What would be the first thing you’d do with a million dollars? I'm getting Mom a house she actually feels at home in. I take me out of the equation because with a million I would HOPE I could squeeze in my own place with Girt, too.

Who was the last person you visited in the hospital and why were they there? My older sister because she was having a baby.

Have you ever cried in public? Oh certainly.

Are you one of those people who has more than one shower a day? No, that kinda stuff blows my MIND unless you are doing seriously physical, dirty stuff.

Have you ever babysat children who weren’t related to you? Yes, I once watched my neighbor's daughter when I was a teenager.

Have you ever seen Wayne’s World? Yes, I remember Jason was big on this movie so I watched it with him once.

Have you ever taken photos in a photobooth? Yes, done that at least a couple times.

If you have a dog, do you walk it regularly? Neither of us do; she's a teeny-tiny chihuahua that doesn't exhibit any sort of hyper or super busy behavior at all so she seems fine without 'em, she loves going on car rides though. If she has energy to exert, she'll generally beat up her toys, haha. She loves picking the ones that are bigger than her.

Would you prefer a big or a small wedding? Small, I do NOT want a big wedding.

Do you smoke when you’re drinking alcohol? No, I don't smoke period.

How many people do you message on a regular basis? Very regular basis, only Girt, but I definitely message Mazzy and Tez quite a bit too 'cuz I like talking to them.

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

[artistfingers]

There’s one ~silver lining~ of my iPad being broken: I’ve had loads of time to think about my many half-formed undercover phantom au ideas! Since I have no idea when or what will make it to comic form, here’s the lowdown…. AKA, everything that’s been rattling around my brain recently :P

For context: Danny, Sam and Tucker have never met, and nobody knows Danny is Phantom. When Vlad’s newest bit of tech gets Danny stuck in ghost mode (with the rest of his powers on the fritz to boot), he meets Tucker and Sam—who instantly see through his disguise and lend a helping hand. (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4!!)

So. After that, Danny—no, Phantom—becomes friends with them. It’s exciting! He was invisible at school even before the ghost powers; he was pretty isolated and lonely and being Phantom for the last year hasn’t exactly been a social boon. Kid’s lonely, ok?

But now… two human friends? Who’re his age & share his interests? It’s like a dream come true! If only they weren’t exclusively friends with his ghost self… and if only they didn’t wanna be so involved in his dangerous ghost hunting things…Uhhh. Hm. Could be a problem.

Danny angsts about the danger he’s putting his new friends in, and about not being able to befriend them as a human. He plays with the idea of telling them Everything but that’s… risky to say the least. He’s only known them a few weeks! ugh….!! it’s too much. maybe he should just throw the towel in.

Buuut Sam & Tucker don’t take no for an answer. Especially after they rescue him a third time.

Thus… Phantom friendship shenanigans!!

Sam filched some parts from the Fentonworks Lab when Phantom took them there, and later convinced Tucker to help her build a custom mini ectogun in case of emergency. They didn’t tell Phantom.

Danny is really sentimental about that DP hat he wore when he first met Sam & Tucker. He wore it as Phantom for a while but it got singed in a fight. He still wears it when he hangs out with Tucker & Sam but otherwise keeps it squirreled away for Sentimental Reasons.

“So Phantom, how old are you?” “I’m 15.” “15 now? Or 15 when you died?” “Yes.”

Tucker has a bunch of awful 90s button up shirts, and gives one to Phantom

They aren’t able to convince Sam to wear one too, but they sure do try.

Phantom won’t tell them when he died, so once he starts wearing 90s shirts they start using terrible 90s slang with him

“I am NOT from the 90s!!! They didn’t even SAY that then!!!” “methinks the lady doth protest too much…..home slice” “NOOO!!!”

“Phantom I have an extremely important question. Like, life or death. SHIT is on the LINE here. Are you listening?? I really need to know…. Do ghosts play video games”

The answer may surprise you (no it won’t)

Sam is completely convinced they can ACTUALLY get a good working guess of when Phantom lived and died based on the fact he liked Nasty Burger when he was alive, since NB’s a regional chain with a not-so-distant past. Tucker meanwhile thinks Phantom probably has a good reason for keeping them at arm’s length—but regardless of method, they can agree: they want to break down Phantom’s walls.

The next arc is less “Undercover Phantom” and more “Undercover Fenton” because the juxtaposition of him having to do hidden identities squared (squared again) is too good for me to pass up. It boils down to this: during a ghost attack at school, Danny finds himself stuck being “protected” by Sam and Tucker.

Sam and Tucker take their new jobs as Phantom’s ghost hunting companions too seriously to let this skinny stranger they just met run TOWARDS the danger. WHY does he keep trying to run TOWARDS the danger

NO YOU CANNOT GO TO THE BATHROOM THE SCHOOL IS ON G H O S T L O C K D O W N

Sam pulls out her ectogun.

Danny: WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!

Sam does not tell him.

“Wait, your last name’s Fenton? Like Fentonworks Fenton?” “No, the other Fenton.” “Oh… well, that’s too bad…” “YES LIKE FENTONWORKS FENTON”

Sam is initially wary of Danny because of his parents’ super strong anti-ecto views. Danny is clueless as to why she isn’t very friendly to him-as-a-human when she’s great with him-as-a-ghost. but she warms up after he helps resolve the ghost issue in a way that shows he doesn’t subscribe to his parents’ views.

afterwards you get this excellent situation where Danny is now friends with Sam and Tucker as Phantom and as Fenton, and they’re not connecting the dots as quickly as they did when it was just “that’s Phantom wearing a hoodie and a cap with his own logo on it”.

the potential here? *chefs kiss* here’s a few things but honestly? the possibilities are limitless

Danny pretending to not have a cell phone because he already gave them his number as Phantom

Tucker: *dials Phantom*

Danny, standing directly next to him: *frantically attempting to silence his phone*

Sam & Tucker try to introduce Danny and Phantom. Danny has to make excuses to avoid this happening in both forms.

Danny takes Sam & Tucker down to the Fentonworks Lab to get them some real equipment. Sam & Tucker pretend (very badly) that they’ve never been there before

Rooftop chill sessions as Phantom, late night teenage hijinks as Fenton, plus school AND fighting ghosts does not do any favors for Danny’s sleep deprivation. Tucker introduces him to caffeine pills with… mixed results.

Tucker and Sam teach Phantom some sign language. Later Danny slips up and uses it casually with them as Fenton

…. And many other silly mixups that I’ve yet to think of because I live for that shit

Sam & Tucker have theories about the Fenton-Phantom connection and they’re all wrong but somehow also plausible and that freaks Danny out just a little bit if he ever overhears them

Ultimately, I see this AU having a final arc where a New Situation occurs in which Danny-as-Phantom has to—once again—pretend to be human. This time, he’s with Sam & Tucker as Phantom from the get go, and can’t disappear or transform, even if being Phantom is extremely dangerous at that moment. Somehow this scenario would lead to the Fenton-is-Phantom (or, in this case, Phantom-is-Fenton) reveal…. But the details still escape me :P

so in short………… I really like hidden identities

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #undercover phantom au #no one knows au #DP #WHY is this 1000 words long IM SO SORRY #PS if you are reading these tags and you left tags on any of the comics so far with your own ideas for this au THANK YOU I LOVE YOU #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free to add on ideas to this au any way youd like 🙏 #it is just a big ol hidden identities sandbox with also lots of teenages hijinks #im hoping to have my ipad fixed by wednesday-ish so more comics........ eventually :"D #in the meantime please enjoy this long text post and maybe some sketchbook things #if i can work up the nerve to post something straight out of the sketchbook lmfao #long post #fic #art writes

[cosmocove]

not into stranger things but everyone in the show shouldve hated that guy that thinks everything is a lovers quarrel

#bonk.txt #especially since the first(?) time he did that shit it was towards two teenagers one of which was still in a relationship #yes they were in a relationship still cause otherwise the guy wouldnt have mentioned steve explicitly and wouldve just been like #’youre worried that your using him as a way to get over your ex’ and shit and not what he did in canon #top five things that shoudlve tipped people off that it was gonna go super bad at some point 1. lovers quarrel man #genuinely havent watched the show since my dad forced me to watch season three with him when it came out but wow there was a lot of flags

[tarobytez]

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant. 

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist. 

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is. 

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”. 

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me. 

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.  

Oh fucking boy. 

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully. 

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled. 

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability. 

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community. 

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged. 

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people. 

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted. 

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows. 

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

#soc #six of crows #kaz brekker #soc kaz #kaz talk tag #kanej #grisha #grishaverse #ketterdam #leigh bardugo #bardugo #crooked kingdom #ck #wylan #wylan van sunshine #wylan supremacy #jesper x wylan #wesper #jesper fahey #shadow and bone #wylan van eck #jan van eck #ableism #ableist bullshit #ableist slurs #disability #disability pride month #i will punch you in the face #el oh el #laugh out loud

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

[letarasstuff]

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert