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egcdeath · 1 year

Text

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it.

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries.

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment.

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors.

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it.

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car.

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next.

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off.

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects.

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer.

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while.

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone.

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out.

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you.

“I don’t know,” you confessed.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together.

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless.

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible.

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so.

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over.

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub.

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub.

“Not really,” you admitted.

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long.

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand.

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life.

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over.

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background.

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you.

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest.

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would.

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop.

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together.

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then.

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed.

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you.

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you.

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap.

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar.

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you.

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life.

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music.

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all.

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music.

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more.

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage.

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so.

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill.

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small.

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds.

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach.

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character.

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you.

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested.

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item.

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye.

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup.

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation.

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused.

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you.

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard.

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly.

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm.

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom.

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back.

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back.

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged.

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain.

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you.

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground.

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.”

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years.

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain.

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain.

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house.

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it.

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain.

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel.

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off.

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep.

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before.

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week.

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before.

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room.

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes.

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly.

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room.

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do.

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life.

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit.

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind.

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to.

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.”

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his.

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?”

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding.

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere.

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger.

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless.

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you.

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed.

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever.

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table.

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted.

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?”

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days.

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job.

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after.

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel.

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually.

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed.

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks.

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him?

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked.

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen.

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne.

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice.

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way. He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently.

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair.

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate.

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne.

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew.

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world?

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change.

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space.

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower.

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist.

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink.

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion.

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips.

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud.

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard.

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything.

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything.

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find.

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time.

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you.

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #soccer parents au

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jgracie · 20 days

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ TONIGHT, WE ARE YOUNG!

(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader

↳ the chronicles of jj & smartiepants!

masterlist | rules

an trigger warning me writing teenage boys (my fatal flaw)

“jason, are you sure this isn’t too much for this little gathering you’re having?” you asked, nervously biting on your lip as you stared yourself down in the mirror. all of the school’s football players were having a get together in celebration of their recent winning streak, and naturally, all their girlfriends would be coming too

since you were officially the captain’s girlfriend, that meant you were also invited. you and jason had only started dating a month and a bit ago, so your relationship was still blooming. meeting his friends and their girlfriends was a big step to you - this would make or break everything you had

tenderly, jason clutched your jaw. you felt the sting of his cold rings on your skin as he turned your face towards his, saying, “trust me, it’s not. you look stunning, babe. everything’ll be okay, i promise!” he smiled at your furrowed brows and leaned in, kissing the pout off of your face

if anyone looked stunning, it was your boyfriend. even in a simple button down and jeans, he had your heart doing somersaults in your body. feeling better, you grabbed your purse and made your way out of the house with jason, your parents not even bothering to remind him when to bring you home, knowing you’d always be safe with him

“jj!” you heard a chorus of men yell from the corner of the restaurant - it was nothing too fancy, but not too casual either. you let out a sigh of relief when you noticed their girlfriends were wearing outfits at the same level of casual as you

you walked over to the table hand in hand, and even when jason greeted all his friends (with you standing awkwardly and giving the occasional wave if they acknowledged you) he refused to detangle his fingers from yours

sitting next to one of the girlfriends, you put your purse on your lap and took everything in. you were the newest addition of this group, and yet, they didn’t seem to think you strange. this was a nice change from the friend groups of all the other boyfriends you had. there was truly nothing you hated more than feeling like you were sticking out like a sore thumb

“hi, i’m hazel, it’s nice to meet you!” the girl you were sitting next to said. she was gorgeous - with cinnamon brown hair and eyes so bright they might as well have been pure golden. a friendly smile was etched on her lips and you couldn’t help but feel one make its way onto yours

“it’s nice to meet you too,” you mumbled, looking away as you realised you had nothing much to say. were you supposed to ask her which one of the boys was her man, or was that too invasive? luckily, she told you herself, pointing at the guy sitting to the right of jason - frank, you remembered his name from how often (and highly) jason spoke of him

as the night went on, you found yourself becoming more comfortable with hazel and eventually all the other girls. they seemed intimidating from afar, but you came to realise they were all sweethearts who happened to be dating the most popular boys in school (just like you). as you laughed and chatted with everyone, you failed to notice a certain pair of electric blue eyes locked on you

“jj, are you even listening to me? this isn’t the end of the year, we still have more games to win!” one of jason’s friends said, snapping him out of the trance you put him in. instantly, all the boys’ heads whipped to look at you and they laughed as the reason why their captain was so distracted hit them

jason sheepishly smiled, a blush coating his cheeks as he received multiple slaps on the back (do u guys know what i’m talking ab here men do this i swear) and a couple ‘ohhh!!!’’s from his teammates. usually, he’d mind being teased in this way and would immediately shut down all their jokes. tonight, however, he couldn’t find it in him to care. he didn’t think he’d ever find it in him to care. jason could confidently announce his love for you from the rooftops - so what if they poked a bit of fun at him?

meanwhile, the girls had noticed the commotion and began giggling as one said, “he’s so in love with you! no one ever thought jj would find love, and yet here we are!” you felt your face heat up at her words - was jason really in love with you?

your question was answered the moment your eyes met his. there was no way he wasn’t in love, not with how the adoration seemed to be seeping out of them and radiating towards you in waves

that very moment would be etched in both of your souls forevermore, for it was when you both knew you were stuck with the other for life

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #jason grace drabble #jason grace blurb #cynwrites #˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ jj & smartiepants

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mrdrwrites · 4 months

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Pairings: Oliver Quick X !fem reader

Summary: Oliver is invited to Saltburn by your twin brother Felix and after the first dinner things get a little heated.

CW: SFW!! kissing, bad language, mention of sexual content (not much)

WC: 2.1k

warning: i am dyslexic so don’t expect all words to be spelled correctly, also i don’t autocapitalise my words

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

being a Catton had many advantages, a never ending list of friends, money, a level of smartness that seemed to be genetic, and sex. lots of sex. my brother, Felix, knows this too well. Felix Catton, my twin brother, is, for a use of better words, a whore. a new girl on his arm every single night. although recently there has been less women and more of a certain man. a very handsome man. Oliver Quick is his name, i had been told by my friend, and one of Felix’s little fuck buddy’s, Veronica. Oliver Quick is a beautiful man, not the type that Felix would usually hang out with. Oliver Quick is a nerd, a man who always has his head in a textbook, a man with glasses, a man who hangs out with Michael Gavey for fucks sake. he is beautiful, a loony, but beautiful nonetheless. when Felix had told me Oliver would accompany us back to Saltburn for the summer with our cousin Farleigh Start, i had almost choked on the very air i was breathing. this information became known to me three months after i had first seen Felix and Oliver together in the pub with Felix’s group of dimwit friends. poor Oliver is going to be eaten alive, Saltburn is going to eat him alive.

two months later.

Saltburn never ceases to amaze me, it’s the home i’ve lived in all my life and yet every time i’m here it feels like the first time. i’m sitting by the pond when Felix comes behind me and scares me. i scream and hit him in the chest when he crouches to my level.

‘Ollie is looking around. when he gets here be nice,’ he warns me with a straight face.

‘i’m always nice. it’s mum you have to worry about,’ i roll my eyes, ‘let’s not forget Venetia too, she’s been anticipating his arrival after your little description of the poor boy.’

Felix sits beside me, ‘i’ve told Venetia, no more Eddie situations. i do not want to lose another friend,’ he sighs.

‘if you do, you’ve still got me,’ i nudge his side with my shoulder, ‘you know, twin sister, built in best friend.’

he chuckles and puts an arm around my shoulders. the both of us stare at the pond until we hear a voice.

‘Felix? Felix, where are you?’ Oliver.

‘over here mate,’ Felix shouts over his shoulder, Oliver soon appears from the side of the house and he sits with Felix and i.

‘this house is,’ there is a pause, ‘beautiful’ Oliver lets out a sigh.

my lip quirks up, ‘Felix given you the tour yet?’

‘yeah. when i first got here,’ his Scouse accent is strong, a stark contrast to Felix and i’s.

‘you meet Venetia or mum and dad yet?’ i question.

Felix flicks my ear, a scowl on his face, ‘leave him alone. enough of the questions.’

i roll my eyes and shut my mouth.

‘no i haven’t. Felix told me to watch out for Venetia,’ Oliver speaks up after a moment of silence, ‘said she has been parading herself round all morning in hopes of finding me, whatever that means.’

‘it means she wants to fuck you, Ollie,’ Felix grits out harshly.

i hit him in his side and he lets out a huff, moving his arm from around my shoulder and to where i hit him. Oliver laughs at the two of us and the sound makes me smile a little myself.

‘Sir Felix, Madam y/n,’ Duncan speaks up from behind the three of us, making Oliver jolt, ‘your mother has requested that the three of you get ready for dinner.’

‘no problem Duncan we will go now,’ Felix waves off our butler and stands.

he lifts a hand in my direction and i grab it for him to pull me up. he does so and the same is done for Oliver. we all part ways once back in the house and go to our respective rooms. i decide on a blue dress for dinner, an elegant dress. it hugs my curves and finishes just above my knee, its off the shoulder and used to be my mothers. she had given it to me as a birthday present. she knew id always dreamed of owning a dress like this. i look at myself in the body length mirror and spray a little perfume on my neck. a knock has me looking from my reflection to the oak door of my bedroom. i make my way over and open up to see Oliver on the other side, looking sheepish.

‘uh, Felix left me in my room to get changed and he, uh, left. i don’t know where the dining room is,’ he averts his gaze to the floor.

‘it’s okay, i get lost sometimes and i’ve lived here my whole life. i’ll take you to the dining room,’ i smile and link my arm with his, closing my bedroom door behind me.

we are in the dining room a moment later, everyone already there. including mums friend Pamela. Oliver and i take a seat and i give a smile to my mother. she returns it and begins to speak.

‘welcome to Saltburn Oliver, we hope everything is to your liking. my name is Elspeth, this is my friend Pamela,’ she points a hand in her direction, ‘that is my husband Sir James,’ and dads, ‘and this is Venetia,’ she finally points toward my younger sister, ‘i assume you have been acquainted with y/n and Farleigh.’

‘yes Mrs Catton, Farleigh and i had a few classes together, and y/n and i have briefly met,’ he looks at me and interlinks our fingers under the table, ‘it is lovely to meet everyone else,’ he smiles.

‘oh please, do call me Elspeth,’ mum states, ‘Felix has told us so much about you, how are your parents?’

the conversation picks up with Oliver being the centre of it. we all eat, Oliver’s finger still entwined with my own under the table. the night finishes when mum has successfully fried all the information out of Oliver about his personal life. parents, siblings, education, friends, favourite colour, heck she knows it all. we are all excused from the table when it has been cleared and Oliver and i’s fingers finally break apart.

‘can i talk to you for a moment,’ i feel a hand on my own as i’m leaving the dining room, i turn and see Oliver, ‘alone.’

‘sure, yeah. is everything okay?’ i question as we make our way to my room.

he says nothing, he just continues to walk with me, his hand in my own. we make it to my room moments later and i let him inside, our hands detach.

‘you’re very beautiful y/n,’ Oliver says as i close my bedroom door.

a blush spreads across my cheeks, ‘thank you Oliver.’

he comes closer to me and my breath catches in my throat. i have had a little tiny crush on Oliver ever since my brother first started hanging out with him 5 months ago. Oliver is handsome, brown hair and big blue eyes that are the perfect colour as to not look too bright or too dull. his hand comes up to stroke my cheek and i lean into it.

he hums, ‘Felix doesn’t shut up about you, you know that?’ he tilts my head so i am looking up into his eyes.

i don’t get the chance to open my mouth before he is speaking again, ‘you’re an easy person to like y/n, i know everything about you because of Felix,’ his thumb rests on my bottom lip, ‘i know your favourite colour is pink, i know you didn’t talk til you were 4 years old, i know you have never let anyone touch you the way i’m touching you now,’ his voice is suddenly deeper.

my lips part and a breath of air is let out. my cheeks becoming even more hot the longer Oliver goes on.

‘you’re beautiful y/n, i mean that. you’re drop dead gorgeous, such a pretty face,’ his thumb tips back so it is half way in my mouth, my tongue is laid flat against the bottom of my mouth, cautious of not touching the pad of Oliver’s thumb.

Oliver’s eyes trail down my face, stopping at my mouth, ‘do you think Felix would understand if i were to kiss you?’ he questions, his accent getting thicker with each word.

his thumb moves from my mouth and there is an icy hot sensation left where he once had it, my lips still agape.

‘i don’t think he would,’ i finally speak up, my voice scratchy, ‘not if he doesn’t find out.’

Oliver’s lips quirk up into a smirk, ‘sneaky y/n, what if i were to fuck you?’ the breath i was taking in gets caught in my throat and i let out a strangled sound, ‘would you still keep that from him?’

i nod. all sensible thoughts seem faraway at this moment and i need Oliver.

he leans close, so that his lips are mere millimetres away from my own, ‘you’re beautiful y/n, the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen,’ his arms snake around my waist, hands stopping just above my ass.

i lean up to connect our lips, my head is spinning, warmness pooling in the bottom of my stomach. i don’t realise how bad i have needed Oliver until he is pulling away from me. my lips are, no doubt, a mess. Oliver has my pink lipgloss all over his lips, i smile and reach my hand up to cup his jaw as he had done to me a moment earlier. my thumb reaches out to his lip and wipes away the lipgloss. he pulls me closer to him so i can practically feel every muscle in his chest and stomach.

‘kiss me again Oliver,’ my hands now lay flat on his chest.

he obliged and pulls me into him once more. the urgency of this kiss is more than the first, Oliver’s hand slips down from my back to the curve of my ass. he gives it a squeeze and i let out a little noise into the kiss. we continue kissing for what feels like forever til a knock comes from my bedroom door. i pull away from Oliver quickly and shoo him into my wardrobe. i know that knock, it’s Felix.

‘y/n? you in there?’ Felix questions from the other side of the door.

‘yeah hang on i’m changing,’ i grab the first piece of clothing i see, one of Felix’s shirts, and put it on after quickly slipping my dress off. i look at myself in the mirror and wipe the remains of my lipgloss off from around my mouth and open the door. Felix doesn’t wait before barging into my room.

‘have you seen Ollie? he hasn’t come back to his room yet,’ Felix is worried, that much is evident in his tone.

‘no i haven’t. maybe he’s talking to mum or in the garden or something,’ i lie straight through my teeth.

Felix quirks a brow, i hate lying to Felix but it has to be done. he would hate Oliver if he found out what he was doing to his baby sister a moment ago.

‘i’ll go check in the garden. will you go ask mum please?’

‘yeah, i will,’ i reply.

‘thank you y/n’ he gives me a kiss on the cheek and leaves my room.

i let out a sigh and make my way to my wardrobe. i open it and Oliver comes out quickly, ‘i hate small spaces,’ he shudders.

‘i’m sorry Oliver. i didn’t know,’ i feel bad.

‘don’t worry about it. it’s fine,’ he smiles, i instantly feel better.

‘you need to go to your room. Felix is looking for you,’ Oliver’s eyes widen, ‘i told him i’ll check with mum to see if you’re with her so I’ll take you back to your room, okay?’

‘perfect,’ he confirms.

before i can move he gives me a quick kiss and a slap on the ass.

‘behave,’ i tell him as we walk out of my room to which he replies with a chuckle.

we are in Oliver’s room in 5 minutes, all his belongings had been unpacked by the maids during dinner.

‘so how are you liking Saltburn?’ i question Oliver, sitting on his bed.

‘it’s amazing. nothing like home. it’s bigger for starters,’ he lets out a laugh, ‘and it is so beautiful. truly incredible,’ he looks out of the window.

i lay back in his bed and let out a sigh, ‘i’m glad you’re here Oliver.’

‘me too.’

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

AN: would like to thank my best friend @lovandr for being as Saltburn obsessed as i am and making me feel like whatever i make, whether that be a story or an edit, is good enough.

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mintkookiess · 10 months

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Hi, can you do a Earth 42!Miles x Earth 42!Spider-Woman!Reader. Reader somehow meets Hobie and they hit it off. Miles sees them one day and gets jealous.

Of course!! Sorry this took days, writer's block is a bitch

Hope you enjoy this one!

I'm Yours, Miles. (42!Miles x Spider-Woman!Reader)

"Oh crap, I gotta go babe," You said, getting off of Miles' bed to change into your Spider-Woman suit. Your boyfriend lazily looked up at you from where he was laying, his fingers fiddling with the pillow. "Sure ma, you comin' back right?" Miles asked, with a subtle frown.

Your watch had beeped, signalling another mission from Spider Society and you had to deal with it as soon as possible. After changing into your suit you turned around, giving Miles a weak smile before leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I'll be back I promise." You muttered before swinging out his window.

You swung through multiple buildings before stopping at a certain rooftop. Your fingers glided through the techy watch given to you by Miguel only to see your universe pop up on the screen. "Seems like an anomaly here..." You muttered to yourself. You were about to check what the mission was about when you hear a portal open behind you.

Your Spider-sense immediately went off, making you take a sharp turn to see who was coming out of the portal. Suddenly, an all-too-familiar popped out, making you smirk. Nonchalant attitude? Guitar lazily slung behind him? The 'not giving a fuck' expression? It was none other than your friend Hobie, or Spider-punk.

The two of you had had missions together for about two weeks now, and despite only having met during the first one, it was an instant click. You two were the closest in the entirety of Spider Society which didn't come as a surprise given your many things in common, like your sense of humor.

He looked at you with his usual half-lidded eyes, nodding in greeting. "Seems we're paired up again huh?" Hobie walked towards you as the portal behind him closed once more, his comical figure hovering over you.

You gave him a light wave, "Hey there, seems like Spot's been all over the place here lately," You said with a light frown forming in your lips. Hobie only chuckled, "Miguel has been bugging me about it all morning, but you better not think I'm here cause of that."

Your eyes only rolled at the man before you, "Yeah yeah whatever, come on." The two of you then left the rooftop, skipping across buildings and other establishments on your way to assess the damage in your world's Alchemax.

Miles had been busy on his end, walking towards Alchemax with Uncle Aaron with the information that there's been some explosive damage on the institution, and they were tasked to obtain a certain material for Kingpin.

He quickly suited up in his Prowler suit before heading out with his uncle, completely oblivious to the fact that you were also there with Hobie hoping to fix the anomaly.

Once you and Hobie approached the familiar building, you noticed that the upper levels had been covered by black spots, making it look like Alchemax designed their place with polka dots. You nodded at Hobie and he returns it as the two of you stealthily swung up to the giant hole through the wall above.

Smoothly landing on your feet, your eyes explored to see that there were even more spots inside than on the outside. "Mad respect for the guy for fucking 'em up." Hobie chuckled, standing beside you.

"Scan room." You instructed into your watch, and the space before you glowed orange that projected from the device. "Scan complete, anomaly detected. Universe of origin: Earth-1610. Locating their coordinates."

Before you, in bright orange holograms, the events of how the Spot infiltrated the Alchemax and accessed the collider replayed before you and Hobie.

While the two of you observed your surroundings, Miles and Uncle Aaron had snuck in. But before he could move even further, he's already heard your voice and... someone else's.

He told Uncle Aaron that he'd check something out before walking toward the source of the voices, his clawed hands clanking against each other with every sway of his arms.

"—would be perfect if she was here." You sighed, pinching your forehead with your fingers. Hobie placed an arm around your shoulder nonchalantly, " I think 'ts all good, you gotta show 'em that you can fix it up yourself, yeah?"

"But I'd seriously want some advice from Jess right now." You groaned, taking in the large damage before you. You placed a hand on your hip, contemplating on your next move.

Only, you weren't able to as you suddenly heard a voice behind the two of you.

"Who is this, mami?" Miles' distorted voice called out, his walk a bit intimidating as he approached the two of you. The two of you turned around while Hobie's arm was still hanging around your shoulder. "Mi—" You suddenly cut yourself off, realizing that he came here as Prowler. "What are you doing here?" You asked in an attempted professional tone.

"Don't use that tone on me," Miles said, letting his mask retract to show his face. Hobie had to take a double take, "Another Miles? babes I can't be trippin' right?"

Miles right eye twitched at Hobie's nickname. "Babes? Who the fuck is this cabrón?" He started to get closer to Hobie, but you were quick to step in front of him. "Miles, Miles stop, he's just a friend." You hurriedly said.

It was never a nice sight when your boyfriend got jealous, and there wasn't even anything to be jealous about in the first place.

"You better back the fuck up bichito," Miles growled, but didn't dare shove you out of the way. His eyes sent daggers towards Hobie, who just stood there with that same idgaf look. "Look man, I ain't with your girl like that." He said, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture.

You grabbed Miles' shoulder, forcing him to turn back around and away from Hobie. "Baby, why are you even here?" You whispered, your thumbs rubbing circles on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. Your boyfriend only clicked his tongue in response, looking away to glare at the floor.

A sigh escaped your lips, lightly tapping his shoulders. "We'll talk about this later," You whispered, kissing him on the cheek before walking back to Hobie.

"Y'all good?" He asked you, carrying his guitar over his shoulder. "Sorry about him," You sighed, shaking your head. Miles placed back his mask before walking away, or more like stomping away.

After the anomaly had been fixed, (albeit with a little help from Jess), you head back to Miles' place to fix up the misunderstanding and assure him like you always did when he got like this.

It was a bit cute though.

You flung yourself inside Miles' bedroom, flawlessly landing to see him hunched over his desk, sketching away in his notebook. You sighed, removing your mask as you walked towards him before crouching down to hug him from behind, your chin slowly resting on top of his head.

Your eyes peeked down to see that he was making another drawing of you, but his strokes were a bit harsher than usual. "You okay?" You whispered, placing a kiss in his braided hair. "Mm." Was all he does in response, still drawing in his notebook.

You leaned further down until your lips were against his cheek, "You know he's just a friend baby, nothing more." You murmured, kissing his cheek gently. You felt him tense up in his seat, but he still ignored you.

Or rather tried to. Miles was quite flushed, his eyebrows furrowed together and he didn't want you to see that side of him. You only continued to silently pepper him with kisses until his body starts to relax a bit into your touch.

"You okay now?" You mumbled, planting one last kiss on his ear. Miles shivered at the sensation, dropping his pencil on his desk. He leans his head back against your chest, looking up at you. "Yeah I'm good."

You leaned down, kissing his forehead. "You're the only one I love Miles, get it through that thick head of yours." You laughed softly, poking his forehead with your finger. "Well who the hell calls their friends babes or places a hand over their shoulder huh?" He asked defensively.

He was also definitely pouting at this point. Just a little.

You suddenly burst out laughing, nuzzling your nose against his while he was still looking up. "That's just how Hobie is okay? He calls everyone that I swear,"

Miles raised an eyebrow, definitely not amused by your answer. "I'm gonna have to talk with him for a bit." You smiled, shaking your head in disbelief, knowing that there wasn't really anything you can do to stop him.

"Fine, if that's what gets you to assure yourself of my undying loyalty, then go be my guest."

Miles stood up, turning around from his chair to wrap his arms around your waist as his brown eyes bore into yours intently. "You're mine ma, I'm going to make sure everyone knows that, hmm?" He mumbled, his hand slightly pressing down on your back.

You could only stand there, pressed against him with nowhere to go, so you just nod. "I'm yours Miles, I promise."

Fin.

Tag: @ii01vp

If you want to be part of the tag list, feel free to msg!

More of my Miles content here babes!

#miles g morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #earth 42!miles #earth 42!miles x reader #mintanswers #miles morales x you #earth 42!miles x you #earth 42!miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff

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piratefalls · 2 months

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i have no real opening remarks, so have some fic, mind the tags, and have a good day!

masterlist

did the light hit my blush (when i told you you could be enough?) by matherine

Henry wasn’t eavesdropping. Really, he wasn’t — he had just come home from work at the shelter early, toed off his shoes at the door, and began to settle in when he heard it. “No, Nora,” Alex’s voice groans, floating out into the hall from where his bedroom door must be cracked open. “I can’t tell if he’s just not interested or oblivious. I’ve used my whole arsenal of flirting and Henry’s completely unresponsive.” Or: Alex has been flirting for months. It’s not that Henry didn’t notice — it’s that he thought he couldn’t possibly mean it.

Only Fools by OrchidScript

Henry rolled his eyes. “No. You tell me — that sounds better — why I should bring my ex-hook up to my brother’s wedding?” Pez hummed and half-shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s the perfect thing to light your gran’s helmet of hair on fire.” Pez set his cup down and leaned forward onto the table. “That’s what Pip encouraged you to do, didn’t he?” “Martha more than Pip, but yes. He did.” Henry sighed. “Then ask Alex.” -- With his brother's wedding a few weeks away, Henry Fox is determined to not show up alone. Not wanting to ask a stranger, he instead turns to Alex, hoping to manufacture something believable from something familiar. Try as he might to keep a level head, Henry can't help falling in love with the man. Will it come around to bite him or will it turn into something more than he had hoped?

kitchen confidential by stutteringpeach

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” ~ Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.

Can You See Me? (I'm Waiting for the Right Time) by affectionatelyrs

“Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react. “Yeah, um, no problem.” There. Much more normal. He could steal Henry’s job at this rate. “Truth or dare?” - Or, Alex’s world gets flipped on its axis during a game of truth or dare

getting good now by Standinginmoonlight

Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.” Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.

A Sin Better Than Heaven by AnchoredArchangel

“Show me,” the king says, a demand. He sets the vial back down, careless to where it lands compared to where it originated. He leans back against the table, crosses his arms over his chest; chin raised, jaw set- a picture of regality. Henry’s heart is pounding in his chest, the unstable beat of too many horse hooves overlapping, like the canter through the woods that very afternoon before he was shoved from his saddle. For the first time, he considers the possibility that perhaps he had hit his head harder than he realized- against the ground or against the tree, because certainly his hope is misplaced; certainly he is not following this conversation as well as he presumed. “Show you what, Your Majesty?” The king only deigns to move a hand, untucking it from his elbow in order to wave it vaguely. “How your body responds to men.” Or: A criminally loose reimagining of the tent scene from Mary & George, only Alex is a sexually confused king, and Henry's the one who has been sent to seduce him.

it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by anincompletelist

His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

Silence & Sound by @nocoastposts

Alex tugs at his hair and tries to focus on choosing his next words. He knows that Henry will help him - that he wants to help him. He knows that all he has to do is say the word. Henry stands and steps closer, holding Alex’s chin firmly and tilting his head up so their eyes are forced to meet. “You need me to clear that lovely head of yours, hm?” “Please,” Alex says in barely a whisper. or: Henry helps Alex fill the silence before indulging in the sound.

baby boy by smc_27

It starts as a joke. Alex taking the piss about how much money Henry has. How he could have anything he wanted, from anyone he wanted, if only he just asked.

all so human with our guards down by maxbegone

“Constant fear is debilitating,” Alex tells him later on. The sun has risen, though it’s barely prominent through the dark clouds in the sky. “Even in the world we live in now, you need to find the things that make it feel…normal.” Of course, Alex isn’t even sure that makes much sense, and he thinks about doubling back on what he just said with something stupid and word-vomitty, whatever pops into his head first, but Henry beats him to it. Much more suitable, and it puts Alex’s mind at ease: “I’m starting to think you’re right.” The world ended three years ago. No more all-night study sessions, no more drag brunch and mimosas, no more societal expectations. But out of everything Alex was expecting from an apocalypse, Henry sure as hell wasn't it.

Dallas, Texas by annesbonny

i thought I knew hopelessness. i thought I'd learned its specific dread years ago There's an assassination attempt on Ellen, Henry is caught up in the damage. Alex is... coping about as well as you would expect.

Best Practice in Sexual Favours by everwitch

They meet at a bar. Alex is young; fresh out of law school, sharp and charismatic and oh-so attractive. The sex is absolutely incredible, and Henry has no regrets. At least not until the morning after when he finds himself opposite Alex in a meeting — equipped with the painful knowledge that Alex’s boss thinks Alex’s only function in said meeting is to sit there and look all pretty. Somebody ought to call HR right about now. Or: when sexual relationships mix with professional ones, Alex and Henry make the most of it.

this is the first time I've felt the need to confess by theprinceandagcd

Alex frantically unlocks his phone and stares at their text thread, at the heart reaction that Henry had left on his most recent message. His thumbs hover uselessly over his screen, trembling as moisture burns his vision. The entire room is thick with uneasiness, heavy enough that it’s hard to breathe, and Alex wants to tell Henry something, wants to reach out and find the solace that Henry so often offers him without even realizing it. But mostly, as his brain finally catches up to what’s actually happening, all Alex can think is that he doesn’t want to die. He tries to come up with a list of reasons why in his head, a comprehensive one that probably should include family and career goals and a million other things, but in the end, in the moment, all he can fucking think about is Henry.

out of the kitchen by rizcriz

Alex looks to his right where Henry’s standing at his own door. Any moment now, Gordon Ramsay is going to tell them to turn the handle and one of them is going to cascade into a new life. He doesn't care if his door doesn’t open; in fact, he’d rather it didn’t. He’s come all this way, he’s proven himself as a chef, but there’s no denying that the man beside him was made for this role. For the last five weeks, he’s watched as Henry’s given his all to every challenge and dinner service. -- or, the Hell's Kitchen au literally nobody asked for.

i love you (ain't that the worst thing you ever heard) by coffeecatsme

Henry doesn’t doubt that, just as much as he doesn’t doubt now that Alex won’t have a single issue with him being trans. In another life, when Henry whispered it in the quiet hours of the night, he didn’t. In another life, when he kissed Henry anyway, he didn’t. In another life. In this one, when Alex meets his eyes, all there is left behind them is a cold glare that freezes Henry to his soul. One year ago, Henry had a whirlwind of a day with Alex after a chance meeting in a coffee shop, only to leave in the morning to protect his heart. He doesn't expect to see Alex again, until he shows up at June's wedding and finds out her brother is the same Alex he hasn't been able to get out of his mind for a year - and he's pissed.

Fragile Things by SatinBirds

Alex does not scare easily. But the moment he sees Henry fall, all breath leaves his body at once.

Trim my Christmas tree by clottedcreamfudge

Henry is a writer, not a mall Santa, but unfortunately this year - thanks to his adorable and conniving nieces and their Aunt Beatrice - he's going to have to be both. This doesn't leave him a great deal of time to pine horribly over the part-time bookseller and Law student over at June Claremont-Diaz's shop, but somehow he manages to jam it in anyway. Ho ho ho.

All Kinds of Wounds by allmylovesatonce

It throws Alex off when it takes longer for the door to close, when he hears Henry’s footsteps but doesn’t hear him approaching. As he listens closer, there are steps on the stairs and eventually the sound of feet on the second floor. Henry avoided him. Henry gets hurt at the shelter and tries to hide it from Alex.

blurred lines by seafloor

Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.

keep me up all night/ i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n

They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges. Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything. Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb. “Get on the couch.”

Voted most likely to run away with you by dreamsinthewitchouse

Alex drifts into consciousness in a bed full of tangled limbs and warm, sleep-rumpled skin. He’s lying half on his stomach and half on his side, the shoulder smushed against the bed protesting in a way that tells him he’s going to have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day. But fuck if he cares, with Henry stirring next to him, one of his long legs draped over the back of Alex’s thigh. Alex doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the room is hazy with filtered sunlight, spilling pale yellow through the carelessly drawn curtains.

everything just stops by HypnosTheory

Alex hums, pushing his nose into the side of Henry’s cock. “Let me give you your gift, Hen.” “You’ve already given me my gift,” Henry says, fingers tightening on the edge of the countertop. “Twice.” Alex laughs and takes Henry’s cock back into his mouth. Henry keens, knees shaking. He’s oversensitive already; Alex woke him up with a hand on his cock, and then in the shower surprised him with three fingers against his prostate. Each orgasm was greeted with a happy birthday, baby, which is a phrase that’s starting to have a Pavlovian response on Henry. --- Alex gives Henry all the birthday orgasms - Henry believes turnabout is fair play.

the wrong place by congee4lunch

“I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it.

Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites

Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here. “And if you only hold me tight…” A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.

Late Bloomer by @sparklepocalypse

Alex Claremont-Diaz is sixteen years old, and he hasn’t presented. His dad seems to think it’s fine and offers Alex regular reassurance that his cousin Angel hadn’t presented until nearly 20. His mom, though, gets a little crease between her eyebrows whenever she thinks Alex isn’t looking. Presenting is a Big Deal in the Claremont family, and Alex just... hasn’t. So Alex is sixteen, and he’s… a boy. That’s it. Just a boy. Not a boy and an alpha like his friend Marco, or a boy and an omega like his friend Noah. Just a boy.

living in a new normal by @forever-fixating

Henry Fox could write an entire dissertation based on how much information his twin nieces Penelope and Grace have told him about their favorite band, Austin Heat. The girls peppered him with neverending facts since he surprised them with tickets and meet-and-greet passes to their concert at Madison Square Garden last Christmas. -- Henry Fox takes his nieces to a concert of their favorite band, Austin Heat. He gets a bit more than he bargained for when he meets singer and guitarist Alex Claremont-Diaz.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists!

tagging @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

#rwrb #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfiction #firstprince #firstprince fic #red white and royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alexhenry #firstprince fanfiction

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ktempestbradford · 1 year

Text

There is so much to talk about with this article. So much. In this post I want to focus on a specific part of it: the reactions of Lindelof and Cuse to what the writers and actors experienced. Here are several quotes [emphasis mine].

“What can I say? Other than it breaks my heart that that was Harold [Perrineau's] experience,” replied Lindelof, who said he did not recall “ever” saying that. “And I’ll just cede that the events that you’re describing happened 17 years ago, and I don’t know why anybody would make that up about me.”

Lindelof told me he didn’t remember any negative incident with an editor, adding that he seeks out input from collaborators and that he’s “never threatened anyone’s career.” Lindelof also said he had no recollection of anything Hsu Taylor said about events connected to “Ab Aeterno.” He said she was a “great writer who executed at a high level” and he’s “stricken” that she was made to feel the way she felt at that time.

Regarding the other allegations leveled at him and the show, Lindelof said he had no memory of the incidents and comments I related. He told me he was “shocked and appalled and surprised” by the incidents I described to him, and said more than once that he did not think anyone was making anything up. “I just can’t imagine that Carlton would’ve said something like that, or some of those attributions, some of those comments that you [shared]—I’m telling you, I swear, I have no recollection of those specific things. And that’s not me saying that they didn’t happen. I’m just saying that it’s literally baffling my brain—that they did happen and that I bore witness to them or that I said them. To think that they came out of my mouth or the mouths of people that I still consider friends is just not computing.”

I'm not going to quote Cuse's responses here because they all boil down to: "I don't remember doing/saying that" or "Nuh uh, that didn't happen!" which is... certainly a choice.

You're going to see a bunch of people siding with and empathizing with Lindelof and praising him for saying that what happened was wrong, etc., and I will push back every time I see it because of all those instances of him saying he doesn't recall and doesn't remember. I don't think he's lying. I do think it's indicative of an ongoing problem with him as a writer and showrunner and it needs to be called out.

I'm going to tell you a story that explains my point. Also putting it and my conclusions under a cut as this is long. Please do read.

Many years ago I became friends with a white woman writer in the SFF community who lived in NYC during some of the time I did. She knew many of the writers and editors in our community who also lived in NYC or nearby. At the time, the majority of these editors were white and most were men. She became particularly friendly with some of them.

A couple of years into our relationship we were at ReaderCon together. One day at the hotel bar I was sitting with this woman (we'll call her Karen for the purposes of this story) and two other BIPOC male authors who had both published multiple books at this point and were people that Karen felt were impressive and important. During the conversation someone (probably me?) brought up the online conversations/debates/fights currently happening about representation in the SFF genre and the way certain editors were part of the problem. I want to say this was even before RaceFail happened.

Karen revealed that she'd been talking to important people like Gordon van Gelder about the things I'd been saying online and how, well... the things I was saying were just crazy. Crazy things! I was acting so crazy.

I don't remember the exact phrasing, but I remember the repeated categorizing of me/my words as Crazy.

I also don't remember exactly what I said in response. I do remember how I felt in my body at that moment. I was suddenly flooded with, I think, adrenaline or something and I wanted to run away because otherwise I was going to start throwing things. I couldn't believe this person, who claimed to be my friend, was saying this to me.

I also remember that I felt trapped because I was in a booth and the two other writers were on either side of me so I couldn't just get up and leave. It turned out I didn't need to do that. Because immediately both of them were like: Hold up. Hold the EFF up.

They both pointed out to Karen that the things I brought up in those online discussions were real issues that did need addressing and that I wasn't crazy and the only reason she thought so was because I was a Black woman and when white people or even people perceived as being white said the same thigs I did, people in the community listened, so what the heck was even wrong with her.

I just sat there, pretty quiet, still trying to calm myself down while this all happened and also felt so very grateful for how these two guys (also friends) stood up for me without hesitating, without equivocating, without giving Karen an inch to continue to talk about me in such a way. I don't even know how that conversation ended or if I even talked to Karen again at the con. I did decide right then that I was going to pull back from our friendship because of it.

A year or so later I ended up having to have a conversation with Karen because of some nonsense she pulled at WisCon. In that conversation I mentioned the discussion we had at ReaderCon and how that truly affected my view of her, a person who was supposedly my friend and who constantly tried to say she was an ally to BIPOC. And that's when she said: What discussion?

At first I wasn't sure if she was feigning ignorance or not. The more we talked, the more I realized she wasn't. She didn't remember the incident. And in that talk I realized why: It didn't have that big of an impact on her.

Even with her being essentially told off by the other two, for her, having conversations where she casually parroted some white, male editor's racist and misogynistic view of me was of little note because she and the other people she spent a majority of time with were doing it all the time. It was just a Tuesday for her. And so after ReaderCon when she continually asked if I wanted to hang out or go on writing dates, she did so as if she had not said some absolutely egregious stuff to me weeks before. Again, to her: a Tuesday.

Having had more experience in life with certain kinds of racists, sexists, ableists, and bigots in general, I can say that this phenomenon was not specific to Karen. It is endemic with a certain kind of person who is devoted to the status quo/dominant paradigm.

So when Lindelof says that he doesn't remember doing and saying these things, he's probably not lying. Because for him, it was business as usual, a Tuesday. Normalized on a number of levels. He was a fish in water and the water was composed of racist, sexist a-holes doing whatever they wanted because no one above them put a stop to it. And that is a problem even 20ish years later.

That Lindelof had to be told he did these things and that he, in all this time, has not reflected on them, not realized on his own that what he did was terrible, apologized, and worked his butt off to not only ensure the shows he runs do not have this atmosphere but to also throw every bit of work that he can to those writers (not necessarily on his shows, but others) is proof that it continues to be a problem. And that he has a lot of work to do to atone for all these things he can't remember--starting by doing a real deep dive into why he can't.

Cuse can't be saved. I suggest we introduce him to a nice oubliette.

#I'll note that the author of the piece called him out on his passive language and I very much appreciate that #Her whole book looks to be amazing and a wake up call and I hope everyone reads it #LOST #Damon Lindelof #Carlton Cuse #Carlton Cuse For Oubliette President #I feel justified in all of my critiques of LOST

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thefrontofmymind · 11 months

Text

Proof Postitve 1

WARNINGS: smut minors dni!! alcohol consumption, smoking

series masterlist

There was a sense of pride running through your veins. Seeing the band that you’d known and supported for years sweep the BRIT awards, winning all of their nominated categories. You’d been working as office support at Dirty Hit since their first album was released, you’d been with them through just about everything, every gig you helped organise, all the singles you did the logistics on, and you’d become a good friend of all of them.

There was one, though, a certain bassist that you were closest to. You and Ross had always had a sort of special relationship. There was rarely a conversation between the two of you that didn’t involve at least a base level of simple flirting; you asking him if all the things they say about bassist are true, him teasing by saying you should find out for yourself. It’d never gone all that far though, there was a boundary there that neither of you were willing to cross. And you thought that’s just how it’d be forever.

The pub Dirty Hit had rented out for the afterparty spared no expense, you made sure of that. Music was pumping, there were dozens of fluorescents illuminating the space, and the drinks were flowing–very much.

Of course, the band of the hour was everyone’s attention–you’d gotten in a quick ‘congratulations’ before they were totally smothered by the countless guests who wanted to do the same thing. Even being just on the outside of it all, it was suffocating to watch the four of them bounce around the room, never being left alone.

You needed some air, so slinking towards the front door to take a break outside the front of the booming club–as best you could with the amount of shots you’d taken. It was still cold–not out of the ordinary for London in late February–and you wish you brought your coat with you. You breathed in and out shakily, hoping your fingers wouldn’t go numb as you scrolled through various social medias, seeing the fans’ reactions was always your favourite part of any endeavour the guys did. You were only a little acquainted with the fans, you’d mostly stayed behind the curtain, only the really deep fans knew of your existence, the ones that investigated all your socials when they put the dots together and discovered almost everyone involved with the band followed you, and you’d posted photos with them a couple times over the years. The general opinion of you was neutral, and you liked it that way, you didn’t have to worry.

In your peripheral, you saw a figure stand next to you, a veil of cigarette smoke around them. You turned your head as was met with the sight of your favourite bassist. He looked exceptionally dashing tonight with his suit and bow tie–you told him he looked like a sexy Fred Astaire, which he blushed and laughed at.

You gave him a nod to say hello, he returned it and took another drag.

“You alright? Saw you come out, thought you were leaving…” He said.

“Leave without saying goodbye? To you of all people?” You joked.

“I’d hope not, thought I’d trained you better than that!” He quipped.

He slipped off his blazer and put it around your shoulders. You were immediately engulfed in the scent of his cologne, your goosebumps returned back into your skin and you felt more at ease than you have all night.

“I…I just…” You started. Ross looked over at you, big eyes and a smile–god, he was handsome. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I’m really proud of you…Getting to where you are now, I’m so honoured that I’ve gotten to see it.”

“Thanks.” He gave you a sincere smile. “And it does mean a lot coming from you, you’re one of the only people around us that actually tells us the truth.”

You jokingly flipped your hair and laughed. “Well, I try…”

A gust of wind blew through the street, chilling you to the bone. Ross noticed your slight shivering, and he put an arm around you, trying to give you as much warmth as possible, even with his jacket on, the cold was coming through. Ross chuckled at the sound of your teeth chattering. Something with the chill made you giggly, with the sudden inability to speak, the best you could do was laugh with him.

Suddenly he had a hand on your chin, lightly directing you to face him. He slightly raised his eyebrows, asking your permission. Instead of answering, you just went for it.

You gently placed a kiss against his lips, and before you could pull away too far, his hand that was still on your jaw pulled you back in, this time with much more ferocity.

One of your favourite movies of all time was The Princess Diaries, though one part that always confused you was the legendary ‘foot pop’, but now, with Ross’ mouth on yours, you finally understood.

Within minutes, he had you pushed up against the wall of the club, his tongue exploring your mouth, while his hands did the same elsewhere. It felt like all the years you’d spent in a game of oscillating cat and mouse had finally led up to this night, the time was now.

You lightened the kiss, then pulled away. “How about I go and get my coat and you order an Uber?”

“Your place or mine?” He asked between kisses to your neck.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You patted his chest a couple times before he let go of you and you handed him his blazer, and you made your way back inside. It was getting quite late, everyone inside had begun to spiral into one big drunken mess. You quickly grabbed your coat and purse from the small corner you’d hid them in.

You were almost out the door, before you heard a yell of your name.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving already!” Matty yelled, stringing an arm around your shoulder, mostly to keep himself stable.

“I am, unfortunately some of us have to work tomorrow, Healy!”

He blew a raspberry at your comment before kissing your cheek and bidding you goodbye. You all but ran out the entrance. You were met with the sight of Ross standing on the curb with the door of an unusually sleek looking Uber. You didn’t notice before, but your lipstick was smeared halfway across his face, the sight only made you more endeared.

“Shall we?” He asked, opening the door more to let you climb in.

After a polite introduction to the driver and a confirmation on the address–Ross’ place, which you preferred, you hadn’t quite tidied in a while so your flat wasn’t exactly in the right state for guests–you were off. His hand was placed firmly on your thigh, you swear you could feel electricity through his fingertips. You shuffled closer to him, and again, and again. By the end of the trip, you were practically on his lap and his hand only slid further and further up. You were worked up, to say the least.

He couldn’t open his front door fast enough, scrambling for the keys from his pocket as best he could while he was spending most of his concentration on keeping himself stood upright.

As soon as his door was open, it was shut just as fast, this time with you being held up against the inside of it. You barely had time to panic about it before he was grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you so you were face-to-face. You kissed a line from the top of his collar to the bottom of his ear.

“So do you want me on my knees or you?” You whispered, lightly nipping at his earlobe.

You heard him sigh in response and his grip on your thighs only got tighter.

“First I think you should have a little less clothes on?” He chuckled.

He dropped you back to your feet and in a flurry of clothes and stumbling between heated kisses, you were soon on his bed, in your underwear–thank God you had the gut instinct to wear your sexy underwear, all matching, black and lacey.

You lounged on Ross’ bed, watching as he hastily took off his shirt and trousers. You could see he was hard through his boxers. The sight of him made you salivate.

Without another thought, his mouth was back on yours and you were once again lost in his touch.

Wet, sloppy kisses were trailed down your neck, and chest, and stomach, and then peppered along the waistband of your underwear. He looked up to your face, cheeky grin on his.

“You don’t have to…” You trailed off. You’d heard the stories of women having amazing, mind-blowing orgasms when a guy would go down on them, but that hadn’t really been the case for you. More often than not, he would just get lacklustre in the middle and you’d get bored and fake it so he could be satisfied. You knew tonight was a special situation, you wanted Ross to just be as happy as possible.

“I already won tonight…” He toyed with your waistband, running the soft lace over his calloused fingertips. “Wanna make you feel like a winner too.”

You matched his smile and nodded. And he just dove right in.

He placed a light kiss to your clit over your underwear, and your body was immediately engulfed in warmth. Before long, he pulled your panties off, down your legs and discarded to some corner of his bedroom. He licked a long, wide strip up your pussy, collecting your arousal in a pool on his tongue. A wave of euphoria hit you as he sucked on your clit. Your hands immediately went to his hair, messing up his hair (that you know took close to an hour to perfect, you were there for the entire process).

You got closer and closer to the edge while he continued a cycle of suckling and licking at your clit, what you did not expect was for him to add 2 fingers into the mix. You let out a choked moan as his fingers got to work, slowly pumping in and out, in and out. You heard a small chuckle from him in reaction. Your muscles felt like they were on fire, you were so close.

“Ross…pl-please…” You got out between whines. “A-almost.”

His tongue was quickly replaced by his thumb and his face was soon by your ear. “Cum, baby…” He whispered.

At that, you did–like your body was somehow set up to answer any request from Ross, not that you were complaining. For at least a couple minutes–it could have been longer, you really had no way of telling–you were practically paralysed, just riding out the high of the orgasm Ross gave you, spurred on by a slew of “good girl”s in your ear.

Once you’d caught your breath and come back down to Earth–all under the watchful eye of Ross laying at your side–you could finally think about what just happened. One of your closest friends–a coworker–just went down on you and gave you one of the strongest orgasms of your life. There was no going back now.

You quickly moved to straddle Ross, and kissed him–taking him by surprise. You could feel his erection against your lower abdomen as you deepened the kiss. Without separating, you undid the clasp of your bra behind your back and took it off, throwing it to the side somewhere–to join the rest of your discarded clothes on the lush, carpeted floor. One of Ross’ hands instantly went to your breast, gently cupping it before circling your nipple. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan that was almost entirely muffled by his mouth on yours.

One of your hands left the side of his neck, trailing over his chest. You had to admit, you always loved his physique, big and strong but not like he tries too hard–not overly toned. Like a bear. Your fingers found his waistband and you could feel a slight grin in his kiss.

“You want this?” You asked, tentatively. You just wanted to make sure.

“Darling, I’ve never wanted something more,” he answered between chaste kisses to your jawline. “Been fantasising about this for…forever.”

That answer was all you needed for a go-ahead. Your hand dipped below his waistband. He was pretty much already completely hard, just a few pumps from you and you knew he was ready.

You both shuffled to get more comfortable, Ross shimmied out of his boxers with you still in his lap. He leaned over to his nightstand, opening the top draw and retrieved a metallic plastic square. Ross was nothing if not prepared. He slipped the condom on and you positioned yourself above him. In a smooth motion, his cock slid inside you.

You couldn’t lie, he was bigger than you were expecting. More than pain, it just felt like an immense pressure on your pelvic floor. Ross patiently waited as you adjusted to him, listening to your deep breaths for only around half a minute. Once the pressure subsided, you were practically itching to actually fuck him properly.

You started slow, short movements; up and down, up and down, giving your leg muscles a small warm up before the workout of a lifetime. As you started, Ross closed his eyes, sighing in ecstasy. You began to pick up the pace a little, watching as Ross’ face contorted with pleasure.

Within minutes you felt like you were going full-hilt, but it just wasn’t enough. You were whining and whimpering, just on the edge but not getting any closer. Ross got the hint, thrusting up into you and meeting you in the middle of your bounces, this was it.

Ross began to circle your clot with his thumb and it pushed you into your second orgasm of the evening. You were sure his neighbours would complain with how loud you were moaning his name. Ross followed not long after in a slue of “fuck”s and gutteral moans.

You gently rolled off of him, feeling the soft, cotton bedsheets below you, stars clouding your vision. Ross discarded the condom before returning back to you. You readjusted to curl into his side, his skin was cold but covered in a thin layer of sweat–much like yours.

“So…” You started.

He chuckled. “Yeah…”

“Thanks…for that…” You said.

“Are you going home now?” He asked, anxiety in his voice.

“Do you want me to?”

“No! No…stay, please.”

And so you did. You raided Ross’ cupboards with him, looking for any snacks to replenish your spent energy. And you slept soundly cuddled into him–in one of his favourite graphic tees he let you borrow, no less.

You don’t think you’ve ever had a more peaceful sleep in your life.

#ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald fic

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pancakes4two · 1 year

Note

SCANDALOUS GF IG PT 2 RN 💳💥💳!!💳💥!!

HI HI HI sorry it took me literally forever to do a part 2. hope this is worth the wait!!

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME

people

100,211 likes

people You know I love you, babe.

Harry Styles and girlfriend Y/N L/N pack on the PDA after being spotted on a lunch date in Malibu. This comes just two weeks after the pair stirred up controversy for collaborating on a lingerie collection for Styles’ brand Pleasing. Hit the link in our bio for more.

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harryfan3 conveniently kissing in the middle of the street in front of a bunch of paps, nice

harryfan2 i don’t like who she’s turning him into.

harryfan1 this plus that childish ass ig post she uploaded last week? yikes

harrystan5 guys… can we please go back to having some class

harrygirl1 and we thought the olivia yacht pics were bad😭 now he’s making out in broad daylight

yourinstagram

Liked by harrystyles, emrata and 76,429 others

yourinstagram all i have to say

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emrata exactly 👏👏👏

yourbff at the end of the day she’s thriving

harrystyles 🖤

yourinstagram luuuuuuuuuuuv you 💋💋

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harryflorals

80,827 likes

harryflorals Harry recently followed model Emrata on Instagram!

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harryfan1 uh

harryfan3 randomly???

harryfan4 i mean she’s not the greatest but i’d prefer her to y/n🫢

harrystan1 don’t get your hopes up😭 she’s like BFFs with y/n

harryforever he’s going on her podcast i have a friend who helps produce it lol

harryfan8 and what exactly does harry have to say on emrata’s podcast😭😭 that’s so random

emrata

Liked by yourinstagram, deuxmoi and 1,934,283 others

emrata Today on High Low w/ Emrata! I chat with Harry Styles about double standards and the difficulty of trying to correct a media narrative. Spoiler alert: he’s not too appreciative about the social media witch-hunt that’s currently directed at his girlfriend. Stream using the link in my bio.

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harryfan1 oh no. oh no. OH NO

harryfan7 i listened to the full hour podcast so y’all don’t have to lol. he basically told us to fuck off in the nicest way possible. when i get back home i’ll comment some direct quotes here

harrystan UHHHHHHHHHHH

harryfan7 he said: “It’s obviously hard when you’ve been in the public eye for so long, and people start to feel like you have some sort of obligation to them, or that they somehow know you on a deeply personal level and can dictate what you are or aren’t supposed to do. And that’s not to say everyone is guilty of falling into that mindset—certainly the vast majority of the internet displays nothing but kindness and grace. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t disappointing to see the public reaction to… certain things lately. It’d be nice if those corners of social media could show a little more compassion, especially towards someone I love.”

harryfan9 honestly he has a point. like i’m definitely guilty of being harsh towards his gfs in the past but hearing him say that really put things into perspective for me

harryfan10 meh still think she’s problematic. yeah maybe we don’t know harry on a deeply personal level 🙄 but we’ve been fans of him for so many years and we know he typically doesn’t act like how he does with her. why is it wrong for us to comment on that?

harry’s instagram story:

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld @grapejuice-rry @b-reads-things @s8tellite @michellekstyles @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight @flwrmuse

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles social media #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction rec #harry styles rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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isa-ghost · 5 months

Note

My friend

I am gonna do it

WHAT ARE YOUR Q!PHIL HEADCANONS MY FRIEND

YESSSSSS

Here's Set 1 and Set 2

Now M O R E

He won't do it without prompting because he'll feel like an ass giving nobody else room to talk, but if someone got him on the topic of like. Exploration or flight or something, he could talk for hours. He's extremely knowledgeable and passionate about stuff like that, most times because he has centuries of experience

I don't want to diagnose cc!Phil or whatever bc I know he doesn't like when people do that, but to me his rp character is free reign. And as a psych major with ADHD who's focusing on the study of neurodivergent disorders: this man is hella ADHD coded. He's told too many personal stories that are relatable to me for me to be silent about it. I'm 🤝🏻 this crow man

In his case this isn't a nd trait but instead a crow one, but he experiences echolalia sometimes. Funny things or certain noises he hears just scratch an itch in his bird brain real good, he can't help but repeat it for a while

The way to Phil's heart is good food, fun to be around, and kicking ass. If you can tick those 3 things off for yourself, you're Phil Approved

He'll say he doesn't fall for peer pressure, and often times he's right. But on rare occasions someone like Fit or Etoiles can convince him to do smth he maybe wouldn't at first. It's easier to win him over when he's drunk

cc!Phil has talked abt how he gets a weird confidence boost when he's drunk as shit. That's real for q!Phil too. He could be staggering slurring speech drunk and still snipe something like 50 blocks away. It makes Fit and Etoiles want to kiss him about it

He has intentionally made almost his entire wardrobe varying shades of green, which he pairs with black, red & gold. He thinks it's funny to have a branded wardrobe like an anime character

Idr how canon dsmp is to q!Phil but he still has the friendship emerald charm hanging from his hat. Perhaps it's from the Antarctic Empire days instead. Idk, I just like the character design of Dangly Thing On Hat Brim too much to exclude it from his design in my head (I should rlly attempt to doodle my Phil beyond the random notebook ones I've done. Maybe I'll post those if asked idk)

Don't underestimate this man's ability to get dramatic. Tallulah ain't the only one in the family that can go hard

I wouldn't say he has a bad temper. He's very well-practiced at self-control. However, there are certain things that set him off so severely, he throws self-control out the window. Those things aren't worthy of him trying to be "the bigger person." They deserve their ass handed to them right here right now (see: The Codes pre-current lore).

In a similar vein, when the situation isn't one of those special Fuck This incidences, he still doesn't have a temper, but when he finally snaps, he SNAPS. Like on a The Polycule be like "mark me down as scared and horny" level of snap. When you get on the Angel of Death's last fucking nerve he let's you KNOW.

I'm self-projecting here: this fucking idiot man has a detrimental habit of insisting on handling stuff like anxiety alone. He hates when people see him without his composure. It's not even like an embarrassing thing, it's just very uncomfortable to him. So when a panic attack hits or he finally concedes and let's himself cry, it's alone. And sometimes that makes it worse. But even that doesn't make him change his mind. "Keep it together for the kids," right? :')

#qsmp #philza #qsmp philza #q!philza #philza headcanons #qphil headcanons

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we-are-knight · 3 months

Note

whats the sad backstory behind the hema dodge post, if you dont mind me asking?

I have about 5 Asks about this, and the actual history to it is too long and elaborate to go into.

What I will confirm is that during the time of that clip, I was informally running the fencing group involved. I say 'informally' because I had zero interest in running it as a leader, and wanted to purely focus on teaching people to fence at higher levels, while letting everyone else determine the direction they took. During this time, I had a lot of accusations of hitting too hard, and had for many years. I was not able to fully fix this however, as I literally didn't know how to correct the mechanics to this, and no one had taken the time to actually look at the issue to rectify it. (It took my current fencing leader 20 minutes total to permanently fix this issue. In over a decade, less than half an hour was required to permanently solve this problem. No one made the effort with me until then).

In the background, there's a few people you can see watching this bout. One of them later took over the group by installing himself as the new president. Later, he would tell me I was now banned from the group, and give vague reasons as to why.

I still don't have a full understanding of why I was banned, nor was I told how to be allowed back. The closest I got was something about them retroactively applying a new code of conduct, and accusation that I had made the club a toxic environment.

This stings especially because I was never given any idea of what that meant or how to fix it, or a clear idea of what I had done. The club would then go on, with several of my former best friends, to totally remove any reference to me, and disallow reference to me. They also went on to use a club logo I had originally proposed, and when I attempted to speak positively of this, one of those people would directly message me saying that I was a horrible person and manipulating the scenario, and this was why people always moved away from me. I still don't know what that was meant to be about, and would reaffirm I had thought it was a hopeful gesture that they had adopted the logo I proposed, after which communication was ended. They also accused me of threatening the guy who installed himself, stealing club funds, and had some unpleasant things to say about my partner for good measure.

I ended up being ostracised from my sport for several months, and for most of last year, I realised that the HEMA community I looked up to, didn't care one mote about what had happened, and actively enabled the people involved. None of them have ever had any repercussions, and I will never really get closure. This has been the focus of regular therapy for me for over a year now.

For me, the video, impressive as it looks, features people in the background that have left me traumatised, and led to me abandoned by the only community I was actively engaged in for over a decade, realising I had no friends at all. I still will not attend certain events in the UK if I risk being alone, because the safeguarding in HEMA is basically non-existant, and based entirely on personality cults.

The only positive is that I was later recruited by another historical fencing group, who not only have safeguarding methods, but a professional set up and regular catch-ups to address the issues that most groups don't address. The experiences above taught me that HEMA as a culture will not help you if you are being bullied or ostracised, and so I have ensured that the culture of the current group I run is everything that the one in the video was not. I have had to ban exactly one person from my current group, and the process leading to them being banned was done with full engagement, and they remain on friendly terms with everyone since that judgement. The main positive, as such, was coming out of that experience with awareness of the failings of this sport, and committing to never perpetuating the cycle of abuse to others.

Even so, I'm still in therapy over it, and will never really get closure from it. I've totally lost faith in HEMA as a sport and culture, and continue fencing only because I can't bring myself to stop swinging a sword. And now I'm teaching a new group that has such enthusiasm and excitement, and has grown like nothing I've seen before, who say they stick with it because the culture of the current group is so warm. But it's a small consolation, as I won't consider going to events if the other group is there, if I am alone.

But keep in mind reading this that I am giving a very condensed form of things and how it affected me, and why that video brings me sadness, and a little anxiety.

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phenomenalgirl9 · 10 months

Text

Jeong Yunho x Reader: Hair Do?

Summary: Parenting a child alone is tough. Yunho mostly manages the most but problems arise when his daughter comes home crying that her friends were laughing at her hair style. Lucky for him, you, a hairstylist were his neighbours.

A/n: Yunho.. 🔥... Dad Yunho...🔥🔥🔥 There's an easter egg which you would find if you've read my other Ateez fics (its a certain character). Anyways send an ask if you figure it out.

_____________________________________

"No papa. This looks so bad" Sarang whined. And Yunho felt like hitting his head on the faucet as his 5 year old sat on the sink, whining about her pigtails. "Sarang-a I told you that day to get a pretty hair cut instead. Daddy doesn't know how to do hair" he tried to reason with her. "Daddy needs to learn doing hair. When Sarang does not know something daddy says learn. Daddy learn!" She said. He just nodded and said "okay, if Sarang listens to daddy today, then daddy will learn"

She seemed to lomder on the thought and finally nodded. Yunho finally managed to leave the apartment on time. He smiled at his neighbour on his way.

"Hi Sarang" she chirped. "Hi Y/n unni!" She replied, grinning. "ah. Um. Mr Jung, can I… um" Y/n fumbled.

"Yes?" He said confused and then noticed Y/n looking at Sarang's pigtails and he scratched his neck shyly. "May I?" Y/n asked and Yunho immediately sighed in relief and said a small "sure".

Y/n gave her bag to Mika and kneeled down to Sarang's level and started fixing her hair. After being done, she pulled out her phone and showed it to her and Sarang cheered in joy. The two walked off and Y/n watched them with a smile.

She walked into her apartment to find her best friend Mika on the couch. "What took you so long?" She asked, to which Y/n explained what had happened.

"So that's the cute child and the hot neighbor you always talk about?"

"Cute child, yes, but I never said Mr Jung is hot," you said. "So you're telling me he isn't hot?" She said, while following you inside your room. "Of course he is.." you answered and she went "hah!". "Mika. No." You warned. "Fuck. Yes" she said. "His wife died!" You said, trying to make reasons.

"Yes, four years ago" she said. "How do you know that?" You asked in surprise, "you've told me!" She defended. "Y/n, he could be interested in you. And what's with this Mr Jung?" She asked. You shrugged and said "I don't know, he just calls me Mr L/n" you said and Mika shook her head.

_____________________________________

In Office

"Dude you were almost late" Seonghwa chided

"At least I'm not late," Yunho said and walked off to his work.

Later at lunch Seonghwa found him watching hair tying tutorials. "What's up? New demands?" He asked. "She wants daddy to learn how to do hair," Yunho said. Seoghwa laughed and patted the younger's head. "What's up?" They both looked to see Wooyoung. "Nothing just a dad tryna meet his daughter's demands"Seonghwa said as the third male sat down. "Are all the meeting materials ready? This one is really very important" Wooyoung asked Yunho who nodded and said "I think we'll get the deal, if everything goes well-" and before he could complete his phone started ringing. "It's Sarang's school" he said and picked up the call. He spoke for a while and hung up. "I didn't know they had a half day today, I missed the notice, the meeting is in 20 minutes. Fuck! What should I do?!" He said, holding his head. "Wait. Wait. Let us think" Seonghwa mediated. "Hey! My girlfriend could help out, she's free today!"Wooyoung said. "Would she really?" Yunho asked, he knew Wooyoung's Girlfriend, she had helped him on many occasions before. "She loves kids and she loves Sarang. I literally fell in love with her after I watched her babysitting Kyungmin. She was so-" Wooyoung was interrupted by Seonghwa, "We know, we know, call her please"

"Oh yeah" Wooyoung said and called his girlfriend. "Hey babe, can you pick Sarang from her school and look after her?..... Okay… Okay! Thank you so much babe!" He hung up and said "Yunho, send her the school details and tell Sarang's class teacher" Wooyoung said and Yunho nodded. "I owe her a big one," he said. "Don't worry about it" Wooyoung assured.

_____________________________________

Near school

"Are you here to pick up Sarang?" The teacher asked. "Yes," Mika replied, "Wait. Sarang?" Y/n asked in shock. "Mika, Wooyoung's friend's daughter's name is Sarang?!" Y/n asked, still in shock. "You know Sarang? Oh my god! Yunho is your neighbor! How come I never thought of it?" Mika said and as Sarang came running calling "Mika sukmo (aunty)!!!" And hugged her legs. "Y/n Unni?!" She then noticed you, "Hello Sarang" you said, patting her head as she smiled widely at you.

"So I got sukmo and she's unni?" Mika grumbled.

So, Sarang, Mika and you walked to your apartment and had fun, eating, watching Frozen when Y/n's doorbell rang.

"Dude I still can't believe you call Y/n, Ms L/n" Wooying said as he walked inside your house like its his own, even though its his first time visiting your house.

"Right? I never knew Yunho lived here" Mika said as Wooyoung added to how shocked he was to know that I was Yunho's neighbor all this while. And the two of you shook your heads.

"Where is Sarang?" He asked. You pointed towards the couch where Sarang was watching Elsa sing Let it go. "Was she good?" He asked and you replied "She's a very good child, Mr Jung. You're a good father" you said. "I think we can come on a first name basis? Call me Yunho?" He asked, offering a charming smile and you returned it.

_____________________________________

Few days later in the Morning

"Morning Yunho" you smiled, "Morning Y/n" he said as your eyes met and you both offered a smile.

You were in the kitchen when you hearx whines from outside, you went up to the door and opened it, because the voice sounded like Sarang.

"Daddy promised a nice hair style!" She stomped. "Sarang please, daddy has important work in the office" Yunho, trying to yet again reason with his 5 year old and looked at Sarang. His eyes almost cried for help but he was too shy to ask for it right away and he looked away.

"Yunho, why don't I fix Sarang's hair and drop her. I don't have work yet so I'll manage" Y/n said.

"No, I can't ask that of you, '' Yunho said grimacing.

"Yunho. It's not a big deal, styling is my job and I am free" she assured him. He took a sigh and glanced at his watch, and said "okay. Thank you so much" he said and kneeled to Sarang's level "is it okay if Y/n does your hair and take you to school?" And she nodded excitedly. "Be a good girl okay?" He said patting her head and after thanking her again he was about to walk away when Y/n stopped him as saud "you can ask for help if you'd like. You don't necessarily have to be alone" to which Yunho nodded. Y/n took Sarang in and quickly did her hair into a pretty double braid. "Unni?" Sarang called as you made her braid. "Can you do my hair everyday?" The baby asked. Y/n didn't know how to react to that and said "we'll ask papa about that okay?" And Sarang nodded. Dropping Sarang to school was not even a hassle. You were driving back, when you received a call and went to work.

_____________________________________

"So you do her hair everyday now?" Mika asked and you nodded. "You all also have dinner together while watching Tangled with his 5 year old" she asked yet again and you nodded. "What are you two?" She asked again and this time you said "We're just friends Mika. What do you mean?". "Friends?! Friends don't eye each other like that?! Yunho sighed when he saw you laugh at Mingi's joke. You should have seen his face when Mingi gave your ice-cream order when you were in the washroom and claimed he knows you as well as I do" all this information seems too good to be true.

"You read them wrong. Cause how come we spend so much time together and he never made one move on me?" You said and the two of you shut up. That was when you heard the very drunk Wooyoung giggle. Yes, Yunho and Mika invited you to their monthly friends' get-together dinner. You already knew Mingi through Mika, and you met San and Yeosang as well. "He likes you~" Wooyoung said and giggled from the back seat. "He is just nervous because being with him also involves Sarang" he said in a sing song manner. "But Sarang loves her and Y/n loves Sarang!" Mika told her drunk boyfriend. "That's what we told him,'' Wooyoung said and passed out, with a dumb smile on his face. Thus, a plan was made

A few days later, in the evening you walked up to his foor and when he opened you asked "Yunho, do you wanna go out for dinner with me?"

"I would but Sarang is not home, Mika invited her to have a sleepover with her niece and nephews" he explained. "Yunho, I am asking YOU out" you repeated, almost taken aback, now you felt nervous, were they wrong?

"Oh. Um. su-yes. Yes. Lets I- I will see you in fif-fifteen minutes" he stuttered and bowed and closed the door.

You smiled to yourself and muttered "cute".

You and Yunho walked to a near by snack bar and ordered. "So you know Mika since college?" He asked and you nodded. "We met in our elective art class in the first week" you said. "And Mingi?" He asked. "I met him through Mika and we became good friends" you said smiling at your fond memories. "So when did you both… um… get together?" He asked and you choked on your food. "Hey! Are you okay?" He got up and came to your side immediately patting your back. "Me and Mingi? Where did you get that idea from?" You asked, finally looking at him. He was taken aback and fumbling with his words, man he was so cute when he got nervous "No- he just. The way he reacts, it's just-" he was interrupted by your laugh. "Yunho, no. We aren't a thing, it's just a thing he does to tease Mika cause she declares she knows me better than my mother. Besides, why would I ask you on a date if I were with Mingi!" You said squinting your eyes. "We're on a date?" He repeated "wait Yunho, I thought I made myself clear when I asked you out. Fuck. Did I make you uncomfortable?" You asked. "No. But thank you for clarifying. I'm glad you asked me. Sorry my senses have blunted, I haven't done this in a while, since I got together with my wife." He said smiling. "What was your wife like?" You asked, "she was really brave and kind and one of the most amazing women I met. She loved me and Sarang" he said. "You love her alot too" you said looking down at your hands on the table, almost feeling bad for your decision and yourself. You felt Yunho reach for your hand and said "this feels nice, thank you. I have been meaning to ask you out on a date but I was chickening out" Yunho admitted, making you smile and blush. "You know, dating wasn't really an option, with Sarang and work, together." He said. "She's a very sweet girl and you've been doing such a good job with her. But you do know that you deserve to get out there too you know, let loose a little bit. You're not alone and I would love to help you with Sarang" you said, your sincerity shining in your eyes and Yunho smiling at you. "You are a blessing to me," he said.

He was surprised how you do it, how you understand him and Sarang so well, before you know they became a daily part of your life as you become theirs. It's been 4 months and now Sarang has a drawer in your closet and her Mr Dolphin for when she naps at your place. You also had a drawer in Yunho's closet for things you might need or left when you spent the nights over. It took him 3 more months and an almost beating from Mika for him to get the courage and ask you to be his girlfriend. It's beyond saying that you said yes and Sarang was more than happy to have her Y/n unni over more often.

Soon that dreaded day came on Yunho's life, his wife's death anniversary. He was shocked when he found some daisies on the dining table, your ex-wife's favorite flowers. He almost cried when you offered to go with him to her grave. You stood there that day and promised her to love Sarang as your own and to make sure these two are always taken care of. You felt glad that Yunho brought you with him, somehow this year, Yunho didn't cry, didn't feel broken, he thought the wound his ex-wife's passing brought him will never be healed but it is little by little with you. He held your hand and promised to never let go of you to never let anything hurt you.

A few weeks later you received a call from Sarang's school that she wanted you to go get her. You talked to your boss and took time off to pick up Sarang from school. Her eyes were red hair was a mess, there was chewing gum stuck to her hair. Seeing her state pained you, she was so quiet, you called her name twice but she turned her head away, indicating she doesn't want to speak yet. All you knew was she had a fight in school, according to her homeroom teacher. You reached your apartment building and slowly slipped into Yunho's apartment with Sarang in your lap.

You made her sit on the couch and finally asked in the softest voice you could muster "do you wanna talk Sarang? You don't have to, you can just tell me what you need me to do for you?" You reached out for her and she let you hold her shoulder. She looked at you with her big eyes filled with tears and then rushed into your arms, her little hands hugging your neck.

"They said mean things about ma, dad and you. They said I look hideous and spoiled my hair" you did have the chance to look earlier but now that you see the gum was stretched across a few sections of her hair.

"Don't cry baby, it can be fixed, you are the prettiest girl that there is out there" you said, "do you want me to call daddy?" You asked, reaching out for your phone and she vigorously shook her head no. "No no, daddy will scold me for fighting" she started sobbing into your shirt again. "Sarang, love, daddy won't scold you, but if you don't want it, I won't call him. But you will tell him once he comes home okay?" You said and she nodded.

"Can you fix my hair?" She asked, sniffing hard and smiled and nodded. You had your stuff and hair kit in your purse as you just came from work so you pulled them out and took her to the washroom. You first gave her a warm bath and then untangled her hair, minimally chopping the parts with the gum. Then giving her a hair cut her hair was shorter than before now. The smile she flashed at you when you said it was done was priceless. "I look pretty," she said and hugged you. By the time it was 7pm both your and Sarang's nerves were wracking. The clock turned 8 but still no sign of Yunho, while he should have been home an hour ago. It was after 9 when you were preparing dinner that Yunho walked in, he looked tired. "Hi" he greeted you with a back hug and hearing the door Sarang walked in. "Sarang didn't go to the day care? You brought her straight home? Did you get off early or somethi-" he stopped when he looked at Sarang and just said "Y/n can you step out with me for a moment?" You turned around in confusion and nodded. You put the stove in low heat and walked out with Yunho, he looked like he was fuming that was something so unlike him. Of course you've had misunderstandings and quarrels but he never looked this mad. "You cut Sarang's hair" Yunho asked, "Yes she wanted it and needed it. Sarang will-" before you could complete Yunho interrupted you raising his voice "You couldn't even asked me or tell me? How could you just decide she needed it?!" He asked sternly. "I-Sarang-" you mumbled, "You can't just decide these kind of things! You're supposed to ask me, you're not her mother" he said and his eyes went wide so did yours. Tears stung your eyes and Yunho saw the hurt behind them, but it was done, the words were out there, already been said. "You're right, I'm not" you said and rushed to his apartment to gather your bad and phone and walked out. "No Y/n- wait" he tried to say but he had said enough and you were done listening, walked into your apartment and threw off the bag on the couch and crumbled down in tears. How could he say that, you loved Sarang, you knew you were not her mother, but she loves you and you love her as if your own. You love him like nobody else.

Yunho cursed into his pillow, he had two important people in his life, and he hurt one of them, he hurt the person he promised he'd protect. "Daddy why are you crying? Where is Y/n unni?" Sarang asked as she walked in his room, the room him and Y/n shared for the past few months. He didn't even notice he was crying until Sarang pointed out. "Daddy messed up bad Y/n will hate daddy now" Yunho said. Suddenly something struck Sarang's mind and she started telling Yunho what had happened today at school as Y/n has told her to. Yunho was stunned, he burst at you even without knowing why you did what you did. He felt more guilty, he remembered from the time that he and you went for your first date. He couldn't let you go, he won't! He will win you back.

Mika almost threw a bottle of tomato sauce at him when she saw him. Thank god Wooyoung calmed her down so they could talk. It's been 3 days since the fight, he and you ran into each other yesterday, you greeted Sarang and walked away, not even sparing a glance towards Yunho. So the plan was set, Mika forced you to get dressed and go to this cafe she wanted to take you too. You were sitting when she said she'll come from the washroom. Suddenly, you see a very familiar figure run to you and instantly cling to you. "I missed you'' she said, "I miss you too Sarang. Why are you here? Where is Yunho?" You asked. "I came running to you Mommy" she said and you choked on your saliva. "What did you call me?" You asked shocked. "Mommy. Sarang's Mommy" she said, hugging you and you held her. "Yes, Sarang's mommy" you heard the voice from behind you, and looked behind to find Yunho sitting on one knee and your eyes went wide. "Don't worry I'm not proposing, not yet, not for marriage I mean-I" he stopped and took in a long breath. "Y/n you have been an immense support of me for the last 9 months, and I stick to my words, you truly are a blessing to me. I know what I said was offensive but I never meant it. Today when I asked how Sarang would feel on this matter, the smile on her face said how important you are to her, not only to Sarang but also. I see a future with you. So, here I have a promise ring and a promise, to never hurt you, to try my best to be your comfort and pillar as you are for me. I promise" he said, eyes on you, he was really sincere, you shook your head and just rushed to hug him. The truth is, you missed him like crazy, the past few months, you've grown used to being and even sleeping with him so you couldn't even sleep properly at night without the warmth of Yunho beside you. He immediately wrapped his arms around you "I'm taking that as a yes?" He said, just to make sure and you lighty punch his chest and laugh. "Sarang" you called her and extended your arm and she joined you two. "Finally!!!" You heard and found Mika, Wooyoung and Mingi with little poppers and Yunho slid the ring on your finger.

Yes, you finally moved in and Sarang was so happy. You both divided chores, sometimes Yunho would do your part if he sees you stressed. Of course his monthly haircuts were now given by you, he'd even let you dye his hair. Sarang was happy to have a mom now.

_____________________________________

It's been 3 years since and today, it's your wedding day. It would have been a year ago but you had a difficult time convincing your parents. He was originally a bit apprehensive towards the idea of marrying 'a man who has a child' but when they finally agreed to him and Sarang, then saw the three of you together they agreed, they just wanted you to be happy.

So here you are with your bridesmaids Mika and Flower boy (Mika and Wooyoung's son) walking down the aisle to get wed to the love of your life. His eyes glisten as he saw you walking towards him, his best man, Wooyoung beside him and Sarang the ring bearer with him. You were ready for your forever.

_____________________________________

Masterlist

#imagines #ateez au #ateez yunho #ateez x reader #yunho imagines #yunho x you #yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho #yunho ateez #ateez wooyoung #yunho x y/n

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creative-kny-fics · 5 months

Note

are requests open? If they are then here’s a request: Akaza being in a rare Lee mood and Douma discovers and decides to “help out”

if they aren’t open then can you save this until they are please?

Awwww I love that idea! Is so sweet! ^^ of course!

Ler: Douma (UpperMoon 2)

Lee: Akaza (UpperMoon 3)

'Do you need something, Douma?', Douma squealed, it wasn't that he was thinking of scaring Kokushibo..

He was just trying to be cautious with his steps, but I guess nothing gets past UpperMoon 1. 'Yes! In fact... I wanted to ask you, haven't you seen Akaza-Dono around here?'

'Akaza? How curious, a few minutes ago he stopped by and asked me about you', Douma stopped and blinked repeatedly while his eyebrows rose in surprise.

The next thing Kokushibo saw was Douma, who looked at him carefully and with curiosity. 'Akaza-Dono? Asking about me?! Don't play with my feelings, Kokushibo-Dono!'

'I don't plan to do it, I'm telling the real facts. Akaza recently approached me too and after he lost his fear of speaking to me, he asked me about you'

Douma thought, and after snapping his fingers he got a little closer to him, squeezing his cheeks and smiling. 'Tell me something, by chance, Akaza-Dono was playing with his fingers, rubbing his shoulders with his hands, trying not to look at you, and was nervous?'

'Yes to all the questions.', Kokushibo didn't understand why so many questions, but he didn't want to get into it so he simply waited for Douma to give him a clue or tell him everything.

'Ooooh! I already know what he need me for! Thank you very much for letting me know, Kokushibo-Dono!'

Douma grabbed both cheeks and kissed him on the forehead before running away.

'I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING...!! Who am I kidding?! No matter how many times I tell him, he won't listen to me!', Kokushibo, please, you like people to show you love, so don't complain

Anyway, Douma was not going to waste time searching for him throughout the infinite fortress, so he approached the only person who would know where Akaza was.

'Nakime-Chan!! Yoohoo!! Heeeey!! Nakime-Chan!! By any chance, have you seen Akaza-Dono around here?!'

Nakime gave a sigh and nodded. 'Yes, he was here a few minutes ago, he was asking about you. I sent it to your cult, so it must be there.'

'Ooooh I see! And there would be a chance that-?!', he didn't need to say more, Nakime strummed her biwa and Douma was transported to his cult.

He smiled when he saw the back of a certain person who had been looking for him, so he silently approached him. 'Where could it be-?'

'SURPRISE~!', Akaza punched him, that idiot knew he shouldn't scare him like that and despite that he kept doing it!

But unlike previous blows he had given him, this one was not very weak, there was no hatred, it was as if he had already known that it was Douma and that was why he did not hit him so hard. 'AKAZA-DONO!!'

'Why...? Ugh, that doesn't matter. What are you doing here?'

'I should ask myself that question! Kokushibo-Dono and Nakime-Chan told me you were looking for me, would you mind telling me why you needed me~?'

Douma crouched down to his level, smiling and waiting for Akaza to respond, even knowing that he would try to avoid saying the word directly. 'You know what's wrong with me, are you going to do it or not?'

'Eeeeh~? I have no idea what you're talking about, Akaza-Dono! Why so much mystery?! I'm your friend, you can tell me whatever you want!'

He wasn't his friend, but he wasn't going to correct him, not in that situation at least. 'Damn it Douma, do it the fuck up!'

'I'm being honest Akaza-Dono! I don't know exactly what you're talking about! What's the shame?! Just tell me!'

Akaza grabbed him by his shirt tightly, threatening to hit him if he kept making jokes. 'What's wrong Akaza-Dono~? Can't you say "Douma tickle me"~? Is that what's happening?'

'OF COURSE NOT!!'

'Ehhh? Don't you want to be tickled then? Okaaay~ that's fine! I will respect your decision!', Douma sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, smiling and watching with one eye as Akaza growled but calmed down.

He perfectly knew what he wanted, but let's be honest, do you think Douma would be able to pass up the opportunity to make fun of Akaza?

Obviously he would do it and enjoy how his 'friend's cheeks turned slightly pink. 'Douma... Can you... Do you think you can... Grrr...!'

'Do you want me to growl? What a strange request~!'

'NO IDIOT!!'

'So~?', Akaza frowned and clenched his fists tightly, why was it so difficult for him?!

It's not like Douma hasn't tickled him before and he enjoyed it, but why was it so hard for him to say 'tickle me'?! He closed his eyes furiously, clenching his teeth tightly and taking a deep breath to scream.

'DOUMA, CAN YOU TICKLE ME?! AHAHAHAHA!!', he did it!

'Awwww, did you want to be tickled, Akaza-Dono~? Of course! You know I'm always going to say yes to tickling you~!'

Akaza squealed as Douma hugged him and pressed his face into his tummy, blowing raspberry after raspberry as he shook his head.

'DOHOHOUMAHAHAHA!! AHAHAHAHA!!'

'You wanted this~! Would you like me to tickle you in a specific way?! Go ahead! Just say it~!'

'IT'S OKAHAHAY!! AHAHAHA!! HEHEHEY!! GYAHAHAHAHA!!'

'Awwww how cute you are~! Tickle tickle tickle~!'

Douma didn't need to use his strength like he did on other occasions, where Akaza was a little stubborn and didn't want to accept his tickling.

But now it was different!

'DOHOUMAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOT THEHEREHEHE!!' 'Awwww I forgot how sensitive the stripes on your sides were~ do you want me to stop~?'

'NOHOHOHO!! J-JUHUHUST-!! N-NOHOHOT THEHEREHEHE!!', do I need to explain or emphasize that Akaza loves tickling? No, right?

After a few minutes, Douma stopped, patting Akaza's back while making sure he hadn't overdone it, although of course, they were demons and didn't know exactly what fatigue was.

'Douma...'

'Huh? What's wrong Akaza-Dono?'

'Thanks... my friend...'

#demon slayer tickling #demon slayer tickle #ler!douma #lee!akaza

52 notes · View notes

effervescentdragon · 1 year

Note

sebchal + magic au

"It's a dangerous idea," Pierre had told him when Charles, stupidly, amateurishly, got just a bit too drunk the last time they went out and found himself telling his best friend more than he intended to. "And what's even worse, it's a stupid idea."

"You're stupid," Charles had said, stupidly, and drank the rest of Pierre's Red Bull-vodka. Pierre didn't even notice, staring at Charles like a wide-eyed lemur. Or maybe a meerkat? Charles was never good at animal species. He prefered demon classifications.

"No, I'm pretty sure you're being stupid just now, calamar. Do you even know what all can go wrong?" Pierre had asked.

"Yes," Charles had replied, insulted. "I read, Pear. And I studied the ritual in detail."

Pierre huffed in what Charles was sure was derision. He reached for the drink that wasn't there. Charles played stupid (hah) as Pierre refilled both their glasses. "You could lose your soul if you do the binding wrong. Or your virginity." He paused. "Or, you know. A limb."

Charles frowned. "I'm not a virgin."

Pierre laughed that fox-like laugh of his that always grated on Charles' nerves.

"A blowjob doesn't count." Charles felt himself blush as Pierre leered at him. "No matter how good it was."

"Fuck you, Pear," he mumbled and used the momentary distraction of Pierre's laughter to change the Red Bull in his drink into Monster, just because he could. "You're so full of yourself."

Pierre shrugged. "I give good blowjobs." His face turned somber. "I just don't understand. Why do you need to do it?"

Need, Pierre had said. Not want. That may be why Charles answered truthfully.

"I need to prove how strong I am to them," he had said, much more softly than he wanted. "I need them to understand. I need them to choose me." His voice was steady, but he knew his hands were shaking.

Pierre hadn't said anything after that. What could he say, really, when he understood intimately what drove Charles to even contemplate this? What could Pierre say, when his own binding ritual had failed, and ge was discarded into a lower class, with empty promises of some future, second chance that was no more than courtesy and placating? He just added more vodka to Charles' glass, and moved so he sat closer to Charles on the couch.

Being where he was right now, Charles kind of wished Pierre had pushed, had insisted on talking some more about what Charles was going to do.

"You're very beautiful."

Well. Technically, what Charles had already done. Did. Was about to do. Stupid semantics.

"I, uh, thank you?" Charles replied, confused and scared in about the same amount, which was quite a lot.

The demon standing in the middle or the ritual square licked its lips. His lips. Whatever.

"You're welcome," he purred, and Charles felt himself blush, like an idiot. Or a virgin, he thought. The demon's smile widened. "Oh, you're going to be interesting, aren't you?"

"I am going to be binding you," Charles replied. The demon's smile didn't falter. "I need you -"

"Oh, do you?" The demon leered. Its- his, it took a male form, and it was an appealing form, to Charles' despair. Blond curls, wide smile, and blue, blue eyes which looked black when the candle light hit them right. "And what do you need me for, Charles Leclerc?"

Charles didn't flinch. He knew this level demons had telekinetic and telepathic abilities and so he anticipated the demon would know certain things about him. True, the summoning ritual wasn't quite as it was supposed to be, as it was described in the grimoire. The shadows coalescing were much thicker than Charles expected from a Level Four demon, and the feeling of thunder and heat and monsoon wasn't really what he had been expecting. There was also the small matter of that moment of absolute darkness which seemed to last less than a second and more than a century simultaneously, and the way Charles' very magic seemed to burn around him in the air ever since the demon appeared. It was probably the adjusted summoning circle. The square was Charles' own idea, based on studying interdimensional geometry and runes in his spare time. It was nothing to worry about. Really. It was nothing.

Charles inhaled deeply, sulfur and incence filling his mouth and nose. "I need you to give me your price for a low-level binding. I need you for fifty-four hours, until midnight Monday, so I can show my Instructors that I have managed the Level Four binding." The demon's eyebrows went up, but Charles couldn't decipher it- his expression, so he went on. "I will give you an Oath on my magic that after the alloted time period, I will dissolve our binding. Oh, and that I will not try to amend the parameters of our agreement at any point, unless we both agree of our own free will that the parameters should be amended."

The demon kept silent for a while after Charles finished his speech. The candles flickered over his face, and Charles couldn't catch any emotion in his eyes. They were really pretty eyes, and intense, and Charles forced himself not to follow that train of thought because, well. Telepathic demon. Not smart to give him more ammunition against Charles. Demons were, at their core, deceivers.

As if he heard Charles' last thought, the demon laughed. "That's an interesting proposal. And what would you need me to do for you in these fifty-four hours, Charles Leclerc? Which desires of yours am I to fulfill, with my Level Four powers?" he asked, and his voice was ice.

Charles blinked. "Uh." The demon kept staring at him. "I don't - nothing?" The demon's eyebrow rose. "I mean, it's - it's pretty obvious that you're a demon, and our binding would show to any magic user with enough power to discern, which my Instructors have. I wouldn't - I don't need, or want you to do magic tricks? That's not - I don't think you'd appreciate that very much?" he ended on a question, and if it wasn't absurd, he'd think that the demon looked bewildered. He shut his mouth and tried not to shuffle in his place, and was determined to wait the demon out.

The demon sat down in the middle of the circle suddenly. "Sit," he ordered, and Charles did so before he could think about it. It wasn't a - he wasn't compelled by the demon's magic. It was worse than that, but the demon spoke again before Charles could die of mortification because of his stupid kinks.

"I can see the insignia on your bracelet. You are a Cavallino?" The demon asked, and the way his tongue curled around the word Cavallino spoke of danger to Charles.

"Yes," he replied as calmly as he could. "I am in their training programme, but I am hoping this binding will show the leadership that I can become a full-fledged acolyte."

The demon hummed. His tail - and fuck, how did Charles not notice his tail, red and scaly, fuck - came up, and the demon petted it. "I see. And how did you choose me for your binding?"

"I read through the Grimoires," Charles said. "There are books in the library, books that we have to read. But I found a grimoire that wasn't on the curriculum, a hand-written one by a former, old Cavallino acolyte - Vettel, his name was," Charles said, and the demon pierced him with his gaze. His eyes were pitch black now, and Charles put his hands in his lap so as not to wring them under the demon's furious gaze. "He - he must have lived a long time ago, and must have been under the patronage of Master Schumacher, because I found some texts - but never mind." He cut himself off, because he had the tendency to ramble, and he didn't think the demon was interested.

"Anyways, he hypothesised heavily about certain things. Different ways of summoning, and binding, which did not have to be as - as final, and as..." he trailed off, wondering if he should tell the demon this. It was against the Guild's policy, but he also didn't want to lie to a proper demon. He didn't want to get murdered, or eaten. "Vettel hypothesised that the bindings did not have to be so imbalanced in power. That the demons didn't have to be - slaves, to us mages. And I," he swallowed, kewping eye contact, " I don't much care for slavery. Even if it's a demon in question."

The demon's tail twitched. "You are speaking the truth," he said, and Charles let out a short, nervous breath. "So you went through all the trouble to adapt the standard summoning ritual into this, on the off chance that this Vettel was right?" Charles nodded. "So that you wouldn't have to enslave a demon, despite us being the biggest evil out there?"

Charles scoffed. At the demon's questioning expression, he spoke, somewhat too empathetically, perhaps, but still the truth. "I've seen evil men can do. I've seen evil mages are capable off. I don't think demons are the worst evil out there. Your kind can't help but be who and what you are. For me, human evil is worse, because for us, at least there is a choice. To be bad, or to be good. And that makes all the difference, and illustrates monstrosity as very much a human condition."

The silence that fell between them wasn't opressive per se as much as it was significant. Charles thought of the Bulls, and what they did to their acolytes who didn't reach their standards. He thought of the Silver Arrows, and of the ice cold of their pragmatism. He thought of his own Cavallinos, and the atmosphere that sometimes felt fundamentally tainted, like a spell that misfired. The demon wasn't looking at Charles as he thought on world-knew-what, his eyes far away and long unseeing of the things before him. Of Charles.

"My price," the demon suddenly said, and Charles did flinch this time, lost in his own musings of hypocrisy and secrets, "is for you to listen to a story I will tell you in full." Charles said nothing. "My condition is that you listen to a story I will tell you, about betrayal, and things worse than murder, and corruption, and the vileness of humans sesuced by the promises of power, and that you listen to it from start to finish and think on it, and then tell me if you still wish to bind me to you and parade me before your Cavallino leadership." Charles' heart was beating wildly in his chest. "And after you listen to it, if you are still of the same opinion about certain things, I will let you bind me." The demon grinned. "And I shall not harm you lest you seek to harm me, and I may not even take you virginity." Charles blushed. "Accept you these terms, Charles Leclerc?"

There was a crackling of electricity and thunder in the air as Charles said "I do."

The demon nodded. "Good." He smiled. It was a smile with too many teeth. The shadows around the room coalesced, condensed, and Charles' skin broke out in goosebumps as the demon's strength suddenly surged forward. The light from the candles brightened into balls of light, and the crackling of the electricity in the air became even stronger. It did not feel malicious to Charles, though. Not at all. He settled more comfortably on the floor and tangled his fingers. "I am listening."

"You are, aren't you," demon remarked to himself, his eyes closed. "Alright."

When the demon opened his eyes, they were the bright blue Charles had only ever seen in the paintings of angels. "You made a mistake, Charles Leclerc. You thought you were summoning a low, Level Four demon, but you were not." Charles' breath caught in his throat as the demon spoke from what sounded like a hunder voices at once. There was a huge shadow behind him, and Charles realised in that moment it was a shadow of wings. Fuck, he though. What the fuck. Demons don't have wings. What the fuck, he kept thinking as the demon spread his wings and his arms and laughed loudly.

"I am a Level One demon, Charles Leclerc," he said, and Charles blanched, because - those were fallen - impossible - no no no, he thought. The demon pinned Charles to his place merely by the inhuman blue glow of those eyes, and said the words that would change Charles' life, and the fate of the world.

"My name is Sebastian Vettel, and I am going to tell you my story."

#sebchal #f1 rpf #magic au #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites #this was vaguely inspired by spn. but kore i spired by a certain genre of fics #idek how to tag this #i found this in my drafts #im too tired to write more atm but as is usual w me. there is a whole lore here xX

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btsgotjams27 · 2 years

Text

fool for you ~ jjk | 2

Jungkook won't give up until you say yes.

✨ title: fool for you | ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ✨ word count: 4.0k | ✨ rating: mature ✨ genre/au: fluff, angst | college, fake dating, strangers to friends to lovers ✨ warnings: language, alcohol consumption, peer pressure, reader gets drunk (pls drink responsibly), mentions of (sex, fingering, cheating, throwing up), smol kisses ✨ a/n: sooo it looks like this will be a five-part mini-series lol, and then istg this will be the last series i post on here. pls don't let this flop lol

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | prev | next ✨ part three

During Spring Break, all you could think about was Jeon Jungkook and how you had left him high and dry. What a lovely way to make an impression on him. You lie to him first, then practically ghost him. Lyla foolishly gave him your phone number, and he texted you a few times, but you never responded. You had no idea what to message back. The entire plan was done on the spur of the moment and never intended to become anything.

You would not do it again if you had the opportunity. You would have told Lyla she was insane and that you would be a hermit crab who would never come out of her shell. You couldn't figure out what made you think you had a chance with Jeon Jungkook. And kissing him in front of Lee Jieun, Captain of the cheer squad...maybe you should drop out of school and join the circus because you're a clown.

"What are you gonna do about Jungkook?" Lyla inquired as she packed the car, shifting bags around to make room for her belongings.

"Nothing," you casually stated. There was nothing that could be done about it. You went out on a limb because your best friend told you to, but Jungkook wasn't ready for a relationship, and you were certain he was still recovering from Jieun.

"You obviously piqued Jungkook's attention. Why don't you follow it and see where it leads?" Lyla is the optimist. You adored her, and she was always on your side.

See where it leads? You wouldn't claim to be on Jungkook's level, let alone his ideal type. You laughed at the thought. Your crush was just a crush - and you may have fantasized about him more than you should have or thought about him on lonely nights in the dorm room - but Jeon Jungkook being remotely interested in you? Only in your dreams.

"I truly think you've seen too many rom-coms, Ly, and enough about me. How about you, Namjoon? You've been texting him non-stop throughout the break. So much for friends with benefits.” You made fun of your best friend. Several times during the trip, you caught her smiling at her phone.

"Err-ugh-I might be in love with him," she admitted, burying her face in her hands.

In love? You've known Lyla for three years, and she's never said she loved anyone.

"Lyla? In love? Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" You teased her, pointing up and down. "I don't know this girl right here."

"Shut up, please. I'm unsure what will happen with Namjoon and me, but please stop! You're trying to avoid addressing Jungkook." Lyla came to a halt while maneuvering around the bags in the trunk and turned to face you. "Look, babe, you're a catch, and I know what you're thinking - that you're not good enough for him, which is a complete lie, by the way."

You hate to admit it, but Lyla hit the nail on the head, and it was exactly what you were thinking.

She captured your hand in hers. "You are beautiful, intelligent, funny, and a little nerdy. The list goes on, and if Jungkook doesn't see that in you, I'll be the first to tell you he's the biggest idiot alive, "Lyla said as she rubbed the back of your hand. "Don't downplay yourself, babe."

If there was someone you could always count on, it was Lyla.

But you were certain that when you returned to campus, you'd hear that Jungkook had a new girlfriend on his arm. Someone with his looks couldn't possibly go a week without hooking up with someone.

Back from break, the campus was swarming with students, and your only goal was to avoid Jeon Jungkook at all costs. Nobody could tell who you were because of the cap and dark sunglasses. Right?

When you walked into your hall's lobby, Jungkook sat on the couch, drumming the armrest as he looked around. You muttered a curse under your breath, covering your face with your hand as you turned the corner.

Even though Jungkook couldn't see you because of your disguise, he did see Lyla and Namjoon. He called out to them as he ran to catch up, but you had already dashed into your dorm room and shut the door behind you.

What could Jeon Jungkook possibly want? You knew you'd have to face him eventually; you'd prefer not to, but who were you kidding?

There was a knock on your door not five minutes later. You sighed, your shoulders slumped. It couldn't be anyone else because Lyla would have opened the door with her key. You closed your eyes and centered yourself with your hand on the knob before facing Jeon Jungkook. You've got it.

The one person you were hoping to avoid for the rest of your college career appeared right before you. Your lips thinned into a hesitant smile as you greeted Jungkook. Never in a million years would you expect him to pay you a visit outside your dorm. "Can I help you?"

He snickered at your sass. "Giving me the cold shoulder already? Didn't you ask me to hold your hand and kiss me just last week?" Jungkook sported a shit-eating grin on his face. "Can I come in?"

You let him in while holding the door open, removing your dreadful disguise and readjusting stray hairs. You quickly glanced at Jungkook, noticing him in one of his favorite outfits: a large black tee, gray sweatpants, and those stupid clear glasses you adored. Really though? And then there was his hair—his stupid hair, which was soft and fluffy. As if you hadn't already been through enough. You swear to God he was taking advantage of your crush on him, practically making you squirm whenever he was around.

Jungkook entered, leaning against Lyla's desk, his hands in his pockets. He licked his lips and tilted his head, watching as you sat on your bed.

"What?" You glared at him. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

He chuckled, finding your adorableness endearing. "How am I looking at you?"

Like you're about to eat me, you thought. "I—I don't know—just stop," you warned, making him laugh again. "What can I do for you?"

He was hoping you'd say yes to his question, but he had a feeling it would be harder to convince you otherwise. "Be my fake girlfriend."

That was brief and to the point. "Are you asking or demanding?" you asked, narrowing your eyes and crossing your arms at him. Jungkook was bold, that's for sure.

"Both," he said, making you roll your eyes at him.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because…" he trailed off, stepping closer towards you. "You owe me."

"Owe you for what exactly?" You challenged his demand.

"Well, for starters, I did hold your hand when you asked me even though you lied about having an ex," Jungkook stated.

You knew it would come back to bite you in the ass and it bit you hard. "That was completely innocent and harmless. It didn't hurt anyone."

"Come on, please? I'm tired of girls hounding me," he whined, stomping his feet.

"You could just say no to them," you suggested before standing up and walking over to your desk, where you began straightening the book stack. You would never agree to this. Fake girlfriend? Fake relationship? What would you gain from it?

"Yeah, but it would be easier if you just pretended to be my girlfriend, then it'd be a given, and all the hyenas would stay away from me."

You laughed as he compared the girls outside his dorm to hyenas. You came to a halt and turned around to face him. "Look, Jungkook, I'm flattered that you've come to me for help, but you've asked the wrong person. I'm sorry."

A few days went by without a word from Jungkook. Maybe he found another fake girlfriend, but he wasn't joking when girls constantly surrounded him, desperate for his attention. You'd see him walking around campus with girls hounding him, fearless in their pursuit of his next girlfriend. You can only imagine how exhausting it must be to have a swarm of hungry hyenas circling Jungkook.

Did you feel for Jungkook? Yes, but he was a big boy. He can handle it, and he doesn't need your help.

Just when you thought you'd heard the last of Jungkook. You were sorely mistaken. Every day, something new awaited you outside your dorm room.

Chocolates, flowers, balloons–all attached with a note, "Will you be my fake girlfriend?"

You didn't expect Jungkook to be so persistent with this. Was the crowd of girls outside his room really that bad? Regardless, you did not respond to his question, but you did accept all of the gifts. You weren't going to throw those away.

But you were overwhelmed and wanted to put an end to it. You marched up to Jungkook's dorm, knocked furiously, and when he didn't answer, you tried again. You sighed, irritated that he wasn't responding. "Ugh!" You sighed as you turned around to see a half-naked Jungkook. Water beads dripped from his dark curls onto his chest, down to his abs, and his white towel hung low on his hips, exposing his v-line.

"Fancy seeing you here," Jungkook smirked. He wasn't expecting you outside his room, looking all pissed off, which he found sexy.

"Can—can we talk?" you asked, your gaze averted from this half-naked man. You had often imagined what his body would look like, but it was even better than you had imagined.

Jungkook approached you and opened the door, leaving it ajar for you to enter. For a moment, you wondered if this was the right time to talk; perhaps you should catch him at a different time, but this conversation with him was necessary.

You entered his room and stood awkwardly in the middle of it. "Um," you said, clearing your throat and turning away from him, "could you—put on a shirt or something?" It hurt you to ask that of him. It was distracting you from your thoughts.

He chuckled, amused by how flustered you were. But he finally did as you asked, walking over to his dresser, pulling out an oversized shirt, and slipping it on. He sat on his bed with his legs spread and a towel that left little to the imagination.

"So, what's up–"

"Please stop sending me gifts," you said quickly, not even giving him a chance to respond.

"You don't like them?" He perked up, disappointed that his romantic gestures had failed to impress you.

That was the problem, you did like them, found them sweet and cute, but you didn't like their intention. "You're wasting your time."

He held his head, "I'm not giving up until you say yes."

"If you work this hard for a fake girlfriend, I wonder how hard you work to get a real one," you wondered, batting your eyes at the very sexy, unrelenting man.

Jungkook laughed. He was irritated by your remark. "FYI. I'm a great boyfriend who would treat you well."

"You mean you'd make a good pretend boyfriend?" That's what you were afraid of if you agreed to fake dating. It would only harm you in the long run, and only Jungkook would benefit from it. "Why me? There are a lot of girls who would love to be your fake girlfriend."

He shrugged. "Because—you're different. You're not like other girls."

You mulled over his answer. "Jungkook, we barely know each other. How do you know that?"

How did he know that you're different? To be honest, you were most likely like the others. Waiting for an opportunity to pounce on him - the funny thing was, he was giving you exactly that - an opportunity to get what you wanted finally. Even so, you were embarrassed that he was asking this of you. Perhaps he felt sorry for your pathetic attempt to get his attention.

Jungkook shifted his position on the bed. "I don't know…I just do. I just have a feeling about you, that's all."

"And…what will I get out of this?" You finally asked the question at the forefront of your mind.

Jungkook pushed himself off the bed, stepping closer to you, making your heart skip a beat and filling your nose with the cotton scent from his body wash. Fuck. He looked great after a shower, and you had to tell yourself to calm down. It's just Jeon Jungkook - a boy, but a cute, hot, and sexy boy. All the girls on campus could only wish to be in your shoes right now.

He gently lifted your chin with his finger, his gaze focusing on the details of your face. This is the closest he's come to you since the kiss. "What do you want?" he asked, his lips slightly parted.

The answer was simple. You wanted Jungkook. You desired his lips and hands on you. You expected him to scream his name, throw you on the bed, and possibly fuck you against the wall. Perhaps you should finger you in the library under the table while others study quietly. Making you writhe and whimper under his touch - the endless fantasies running through your head for miles.

But that's all they were: fantasies.

So you suppressed the reveries that lingered in your mind, which you could never speak of, and said what was on your mind at the time. "A friend," you said, taking a step back from his touch. Who knows what would have happened if you had stayed too close to him?

Jungkook knitted his brows in perplexity, a chuckle escaping his lips. "A friend? That's it? Nothing more?" Your response surprised him, confirming that you were not like the other girls waiting outside his door.

"Why? What were you expecting me to say?"

"You sure you don't want anything else?"

Ah—jeez. Jeon Jungkook was unrelenting. You were aware of what he was implying but refused to give in. Everything does not have to be sexual; relationships are more than just sex.

"Do you want something else?" With a deadpan expression, you cocked your brow. He'd have to say it if he wanted it.

He gave you a half-smile and licked his teeth before responding, "Nope. Just thought I'd ask."

"If I agree to this fake girlfriend thing, here are my ground rules: you may hold my hand, give me hugs and kisses—but only on my cheek—and if the situation calls for it, I will initiate a kiss."

Jungkook grinned at your rules. At the very least, you knew what you wanted, he reasoned. "'Kay," he said, shrugging. He thought it would be simple. "We're going to spend a lot of time together now that you've agreed to this, right? You'll have to come to my parties and other events."

You let out a sigh. You almost forgot about the parties. "That's fine, but keep in mind that I drink, but I'm not going to get shitfaced at these events. And remember that because you agreed to be my friend, you'll have to do things I want to do as well."

"I'm game for anything, princess–"

"Okay–I'm gonna stop you right there," you held up your hand. "Another rule–don't call me pet names like that."

"What should I call you then?"

"Babe, baby–I'm fine with those," you firmly stated with no remorse whatsoever.

Jungkook giggled, thinking how cute you were. "I'm game for anything, baby–" You knew what he was alluding to, but you weren't going to fake date just to sleep with him. He brought his hand up to his mouth, hiding a smile. "Should we seal this deal with a kiss?" He asked, jokingly, of course.

You rolled your eyes. "Already breaking the rules, Jeon?"

"Ready?" Jungkook asked, holding his hand for yours was reminiscent of when you used your pick-up line on him. You nodded, your hand entwined in his large, warm ones.

The crowd was chaotic when he opened the door, with people playing drinking games, dancing, and couples making out here and there. Jungkook clutched your hand tightly as he led you through the crowd, glancing back every now and then to see if you were okay, and you reassured him with a soft smile.

The first stop was the kitchen to get something to drink. Lyla was sitting on Namjoon's lap, whispering, laughing, and kissing each other. She jumped when she saw you and Jungkook walking towards them. Lyla said something to Namjoon before permitting Jungkook to greet his friend.

"Don't stray too far away now," Jungkook joked after Lyla separated your and Jungkook's hands.

"I'll bring your girl back to you, don't worry," Lyla smirked.

His girl? You scoffed at your best friend, and she was fucking loving this so much.

"You guys are so fucking cute together—I can't believe this is finally happening," Lyla exclaimed as she drew you into a corner.

"It's all a sham, Ly. Don't get too worked up,” you muttered. It took every fiber of your being to suppress romantic feelings for him, and remember that this was all for show. You set yourself up to avoid getting hurt, but who are you kidding?

Lyla waved you off. "Mmhm. Sooner or later, he'll recognize you're the real deal. It's only a matter of time."

Across the room, your gaze met Jungkook's. His gaze softened, and he smiled before being interrupted by two girls vying for his attention.

"Go get your man before someone else," Lyla advised when she noticed what was diverting your attention away from her.

"Here we go," you mumbled as you returned to Jungkook. You caught him off guard by slipping your arms around his shoulders, pulling his back against your chest, whispering "hi," and kissing him on the cheek.

The two girls immediately gave you a twisted expression before fleeing. "You're good at this," Jungkook chuckled as he peered up.

You raised both brows at him, then he whirled you around from behind, forcing you to sit on your lap, gripping your waist as he drew you into his frame. And he couldn't stop himself from kissing your neck.

"Someone was watching us," he lied.

Whatever, you thought, at least he was playing by your rules.

"Well, what do we have here?" A voice chimed in from behind.

You and Jungkook both turned to see Jieun, his ex-girlfriend, staring at this new, unexpected development. You weren't on the same level as Jieun - you weren't in the popular circles, and you didn't have guys fawning over you. But your presence on Jungkook's lap certainly drew her attention.

"Over me already, Kook?" Jieun pouted along with puppy eyes.

Jungkook remained silent. Instead, he patted your leg and motioned for you to stand up. He didn't want to deal with Jieun and was only here to have a good time, not to be stalked by his ex.

"Aw, come on. Have a drink with me," Jieun mocked, aiming it at you. She stood there, waiting for an answer, and she wasn't about to let you two go so easily.

"Leave her alone, Jieun. She doesn't want to drink," Jungkook argued, his gaze darting to yours, looking for a cue from you to leave if you were uncomfortable.

"What's the matter? Can't hold your liquor?" She mocked you once more.

"No, unlike you, I want to remember the next day." You were referring to her debacle with Jungkook with Jimin. The entire school had heard about what had happened between her and Jimin by this point.

Jieun clenched her fist and clicked her tongue. "Come on, one drink won't hurt anyone," she sighed.

"Baby–you don't have to do anything you don't want to," Jungkook muttered.

Jieun's eyes perked up when she heard Jungkook call you by a pet name she was so used to.

You chewed on the bottom of your lip, debating on your answer. "One drink."

"Atta girl," Jieun clapped excitedly.

You were feeling woozy after seven shots. The room began to spin a little. Normally, you'd limit yourself to two drinks, but you wanted to prove to Jieun that you weren't a coward.

She persevered in enabling you to take one more shot. She was about to hand over the glass when Jungkook grabbed it and knocked it back.

"Hey—" you pouted, mumbling something incoherently under your breath, "that was mine." You attempted to grab Jungkook's glass but completely missed, almost stumbling, but Jungkook caught you in time.

"I think you've had enough. Come on, baby–let's get you to bed."

"Kook–I'm not done with her yet," Jieun threatened. She didn't like Jungkook coming to your rescue.

Jungkook looked over at you in his arms, all smiley and giggly. "We're leaving," he warned, slinging your arm over his shoulders and forcing you to lean on him.

"My legs are all wobbly," you said, slurring your words.

He let you go abruptly, crouching in front of you and motioning for you to climb onto his back, which you did without hesitation. He hooked under your thighs as you wrapped your arms around Jungkook's neck.

The heat from his body was making your skin burn, but you still wanted to be close to him. So you leaned in and nuzzled into the nape of his neck. Jungkook laughed at how sleepy and adorable you were. "Why'd you do it?"

Without opening your eyes, you replied, "Do what?"

"Let her get to you?"

"I don't know," you grumbled, snuggling closer to Jungkook. "I just didn't like how she looked at us."

Jungkook furrowed his brows. "How did she look at us?" He asked, pausing to re-lift you to keep you from slipping.

"Like we shouldn't be together."

Jieun, on the other hand, had every reason to believe so. Jungkook and you? To say the least, it was an unusual pairing. You two couldn't be more different, on opposite ends of a spectrum, which is probably why Jieun was staring at you all funny.

"Forget about her. She's not worth your time."

"She's not worth yours either," you retorted. "You deserve better than her."

Jungkook scrunched his nose, revealing a bunny smile. "Okay–we're almost to your room. You have your key?"

"Mmhm, it's in my back pocket."

The desire to throw up was strong, and you swallowed the acid in your throat as best you could, afraid of puking all over Jungkook's back. To avoid Jeon Jungkook, you'd have to consider relocating to Antarctica.

After walking across campus, you were relieved to see the door to your room. Jungkook gently pushed you to your feet as he waited for you to open the door, but the alcohol hadn't worn off yet. He inserted the key into the slot, which opened it.

Your fairy lights lit up the room just enough for you to stumble onto your bed. All that mattered was your fluffy pillow and duvet, not taking off your makeup or changing into something comfortable. You crept beneath, ready to drift off to sleep.

Jungkook watched as you kicked off your shoes, and unhooked your bra from beneath your top, flinging it at his feet. "Don't you think we're moving too fast, fake girlfriend?" He teased you by picking up your underwear and draping it over your desk chair.

"Mm, moving too fast? We already kissed. What else do you want from me?" You grumbled, nuzzling deeper into your pillow, your makeup starting to smudge - in which you'd hate yourself for later.

Jungkook looked around for a garbage can in case you threw up in the middle of the night. Then he searched your bathroom for aspirin and a glass of water to keep by your bed. He sat beside you, sinking into the mattress, peering and softly chuckling at the girl who had gotten drunk to spite his ex - he'd never had a girl do that before. He gently caressed your warm, flushed cheek as he tucked a stray piece of hair away from your face.

"G'night," he whispered before reaching down and placing a kiss on your cheek.

✨ next ~ part three

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts #fic: fool for you #jungkook college au #bts jungkook #fake dating #college au

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