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huhniebowl · 1 year

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A Dare’s a Dare

Elliot x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smutt & also a try at some plot...pray he never sees this

a/n: whew...hey guys. long time no SEE! it’s been a hot minute & i’m so sorry about that. please accept this gift as an apology...i didn’t even mean to make this so long, & i definitely still need to make corrections, but alas, here we are. please enjoy & maybe leave a comment? i love reading your guys reactions/thoughts! :)

a/a/n: wait, also, can we talk about cochella? because i was SAT! mama’s boy is already my favoritee.

One of the lightbulbs in the bathroom flicker as you lean down to sniff a line of coke off the porcelain sink. Then it blows out. You told Elliot weeks ago that it needed to be replaced, but as usual, his “I’ll get to it.” gets lost in all the other bullshit he spews.

Throwing your head back, you scrunch your nose and sniff. Not yet used to the burn.

Unrolling the five-dollar bill, you shake it out and shove it in your pocket. He left it in the bathroom for you anyway. You do a quick sweep around to make sure there’s nothing that can show what’s been going on in there, swipe the powder off your tight long sleeve, and walk out.

The music that was once muffled behind the door is now clear as you sway to the beat on your way back into Elliot’s room, Jules and Rue sitting on his bed with a joint between Rue’s lips.

“Ooo, that the vanilla backwood–” You start, then stop when warm hands grab your face, and your lips are pressed against another pair. It happens so fast that you barely have time to process it before the warm body moves away. You stumble and look up.

Elliot.

“That wasn’t 10 seconds,” Jules calls out, leaning into Rue. They’re going straight to hell if you have any say in it. Though considering the life choices you’ve all made from the moment you crossed paths, you’ll be right there with them. Elliot too.

“You’ve never really kissed a girl before, huh, Elly?” Rue mocks, lighting the blunt.

Elliot leans over and whispers in your ear, “Let me keep my dignity, and I’ll let you keep my five in your pocket.” Damn. Touché.

You shrug and nod, reaching to grab his face and pull him forward. You’re too high for this shit.

“Start the clock.” Elliot points, looking at Rue before meeting your lips in a heavy kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you against the nearest wall.

Your heart is going well over the average beat per minute, and for once, you can honestly say it wasn’t because of the line you just did. You’ve wanted Elliot since the day Rue introduced you to him. Charming, snarky, sarcastic. Qualities right out of your manifestation journal.

The both of you clicked immediately as if you’d been a past connection. Got even closer as the year went on.

You once considered confessing. Telling him you wanted the title of being his and him yours. But that long since died out the closer you became. You’d rather him a friend than nothing.

So every girl he's ever brought up, fucked, confided in you about, you sat there and took it. Shoving down what you felt and ranting it all out to Rue and Jules until you felt good enough to shove it down again. You thought you were doing pretty good, well, until now, since his hands are squeezing your hips and his mouth is hot on yours. You’re more than sure your pussy rivals Niagara Falls right now.

You know this is some fucked up dare on Jules's part nonetheless, and you really shouldn’t enable her, but fuck it.

It’s just a kiss.

So you melt into him, let your hands slide from his face, and rest one on the back of his neck and the other in his curls. You accidentally give them a harsh tug when Elliot pulls back a little to suck at your bottom lip while slipping a warm hand into your sweats to grope your ass.

At the same time you whimper, he huffs out a hoarse ‘fuck’ against your lips at the tug. You open your eyes and pull back just a bit to see he’s already looking at you. Desperation is evident on his face, and his chest heaving just as much as yours. His eyes dart back down to your lips, and you can tell he’s about to go in for another kiss. You just about meet him halfway until your drug-muddled brain processes that you both aren’t alone. The harsh shrill of Jules yelling out shatters the atmosphere.

“10!” You jump, and Elliot freezes, dropping his head onto your shoulder, as his shake with laughter. Unfortunately, the new position leaves you face to face with your friends looking at you with a smugness you want to punch. You throw up your middle finger.

“We literally yelled out 10 a good zillion times. You two were practically fucking in front of us.”

You roll your eyes and push Elliot off when you feel him start to leave soft kisses up your neck, afraid you might actually jump him in front of company if he keeps going. Besides, that wasn’t part of the dare.

“You’re so fucking horny.” You groan, sliding down on the carpet, still trying to catch your breath. Elliot grins and takes the joint from Rue.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t go out like that. A dare’s a dare.”

You grumble and try to ignore the ripple of hurt that rides through you. For a split second, you let yourself believe that maybe the kiss was of hidden motive. Despite it being a dare, you hoped there was at least some truth behind his touches.

Suddenly you hate your friends for the dare, but more so yourself for letting the strong wall you built fall the second he unknowingly dove into your hidden desire.

Your response was a bit delayed, a dry laugh as you reached out for the joint. Closing your eyes and letting your head thump against the wall after your pull.

Fuck.

Time goes by, and your high eventually fades. Rue and Jules left when Jules’s dad began calling about her whereabouts. You stayed behind with Elliot, you two in the middle of a movie when your friends decided to go.

When the credits roll, you glance at your phone. Two am.

“Can I stay the night?” You ask, looking up from your phone. Your stomach swirls when you notice he’s already looking in your direction. Stare intense, and you wonder how long he was staring in the first place.

“It’s pretty late, and I really don’t feel like going home.” You know he’ll say yes, so you quickly text your sister and toss your phone.

“Yeah, sure,” He rolls over and stretches, “You know where everything is to shower and shit.”

You nod and roam around his room for a shirt and a clean pair of boxers.

“You don’t already have a hookup planned for tonight, do you? Cause that would suck.” You laugh under your breath, turning on his orange lamp. Your back faces him while you move around, and you notice he’s silent. Too long for a joke. Not even a scoff. You turn around and see him on the edge of his bed, hands running down his face.

“I stopped those a while ago.” You raise your eyebrows and shuffle in your spot. The air goes tense, and you don’t like it. So you try to shift it.

“What? Ran out of girls in the area?” Your smile drops as soon as it starts when he looks up at you in annoyance. A look that’s never been directed to you.

“No, I got tired of fucking people who didn’t give a fuck about me.” You’re immediately swallowed by guilt. You cross your arms and stop shuffling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Elliot. I didn't mean it like that.” He waves you off and gets up to grab a clean towel.

"Mhm." He walks out to his vacant cousins' ensuite bathroom and slams the door. You jump in your spot and groan. Muttering to yourself on your way toward his bathroom.

You brush your teeth once you’re showered and dressed. His boxers rolled down to fit your hips. His shirt smells like him, and you find yourself bringing it up to your nose any chance you get.

Spitting out the toothpaste, you rinse your mouth and stare at yourself in the mirror. Eyes trailing down to your neck and remembering how Elliot’s lips softly moved up that sensitive part of your skin hours ago. You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t push him away.

Would he have kept going despite having company? Bite down? You shudder, shaking your head and gripping the sink. You've stayed over at his place before, but this feels different. Something is looming over the two of you, and you don’t know if you like it.

You give yourself a dramatic thumbs up in the mirror and walk towards his room. The orange light from before is off, and a dim glow emits instead. He turned on his string lights.

The ones you got him for his birthday last year. You smile to yourself and see Elliot cross-legged on his bed, rolling another joint.

He doesn’t acknowledge you, rightfully so. But it still doesn't make you feel good. You lean on his door frame and watch his fingers skillfully pearl the backwood. You know he knows you’re staring at him, but he doesn’t make a move to say anything.

Your eyes move up to his mouth, fixating on how he uses his tongue to lick the seam of the rolling paper. His eyes flick up while doing so and lock with yours. Your breath hitches, and you watch as he trails down your body before making eye contact again. You divert your attention elsewhere, clicking your acrylics against each other.

Elliot sighs, and you hear him place his rolling tray on his desk.

“You just gonna stand there or help me smoke this?” A silent peace offering.

You stay by the doorway, still a little unsure, watching Elliot place the blunt between his lips and lie on his back, holding his lighter out to you.

“Light me.”

You huff and push off the frame, crawling on his bed and taking a seat on his window seal. The square cut out big enough for you to comfortably sit in. You grab the lighter from his hands and spark it, leaning forward to light his spliff.

“Elliot, I’m—” Once again, his eyes meet yours, and your words die in your throat. You’re closer to him than before. His curls are still damp and loose, framing his face. Skin soft and dewy from skincare, and the amber glow from the flame.

He’s so fucking beautiful. Being this close, your thumbs itch to rub over his apple tattoo; then over his eyebrows, then gently use the pad to pull down his plump bottom lip to watch it bounce back into place.

They’re loosely holding on to the vanilla backwood, pink and soft. You want to kiss him again. Taste the flavored remnant that undoubtedly coats his lips the longer the joint sits there.

Elliot shuffles, and you snap out of your revere, clearing your throat. You quickly light his joint as you feel the lighter wheel heat up under your thumb. Then continue your apology.

“I'm really sorry for earlier. What I said was fucked up.”

“Yeah, you think?” He’s being sarcastic, but once again, deserved.

“At least the sex you’ve had meant something. They don’t just fuck off after.” Elliot takes a long pull and hands it over to you.

“Who would’ve thought me, of all people, craved intimacy during and after a fuck.” He gives a dry laugh and blows out.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.” Elliot looks over at you. “The guys I fucked were only interested in me for that reason. A fuck.” After a pull, you let your head rest against the wall, “Led me to believe it would be something more, then left with a half-assed sentiment once I gave them what they really wanted. Never even cummed for a guy.”

You shrug, then blow out the smoke before continuing. “So I guess we’re on the same boat then, huh?”

You look over at Elliot, his face unreadable. Silence falls over you both like a thick blanket as you pass the joint between each other. You let him get the last hit, holding it out for him lean up and take a pull.

He crosses his legs and puts his hands behind his head, eyes lidded and red as he watches you snuff out the blunt and toss it out the window. You suppose your eyes don’t look too far off from that too.

His voice, although soft, jumps you out of the silence.

“You’re more than just a fuck.” You suddenly find it hard to breathe.

“You too, Elliot.” You whisper, scared to break the atmosphere you two have made. He’s quiet for a moment before continuing.

“I wouldn’t treat you that way. At least with me, you’d cum.”

Your heart damn near stops, and you inhale at his words. He reaches a hand out to your ankle; the pads of his fingertips cool as they rub at the warm skin over the bone. Mindlessly playing with your anklet, you shiver as his hand moves to caress your calf.

He shuffles closer to you, and your thighs quiver at the new tension. You can’t process what’s happening anymore. What’s real, and what’s fake.

Being high blinds the practicalness you usually have when it comes to Elliot, making everything regarding him, sugar-coated. Elliot’s processing through your brain like he’s a wad of sugary cotton candy, and you’re feigning for it bad.

It’s why you feel your body mindlessly moving on its own as you climb down from his window and over to him. You straddle his hips, and his hands slide under your shirt like clockwork.

He’s close enough to where his breath fans over your lips, he’s focused on them until he catches your gaze. “I know I can give you what you need.”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath when your clothed clit barely rubs at his dick, poking under his sweats. His body reacts to prove his words right.

“So, please, can I make you cum?” He doesn’t need to ask twice.

“God, yes, Elliot.” And just like earlier, his lips are on yours. It has your pussy puddled in seconds. It’s slow, wet, and sounds lewd even in your ears.

Just as you guessed, there’s a faint taste of vanilla, and it has you whimpering. Your moans filter in soon after when he grabs your hips and pulls them down, pussy rubbing against his hard-on.

He’s harder than earlier, and it feels too good; it has you jolting up. His groan is guttural, sending spikes of pleasure through you like no other. You swallow the sound and let him flip you both over.

“Wanted this for so fucking long.” He breathes, leaving kisses down your neck. You don’t know what to say. Still not comprehending this is happening, let alone someone you’ve been yearning for admitting that he has been too.

He moves back to yank off his shirt, and you’re whining out to him before you can stop yourself. Needing him back against you. Elliot chuckles at your neediness, returning for a kiss that barely leaves you in touch with reality.

“Take this off for me?” He whispers, tugging on your shirt. You pull it off and bring him back down, his hands running over your newly exposed skin. Fingers brushing over your tits.

“Can I?” His voice is strained, composure just short of being lost.

“Yeah.” You breathe, feeling him kiss down your chest until his warm mouth suctions onto your nipple.

You curse out and arch off the bed, running a hand through his hair and gripping it hard. He groans against you, his dick pressing harder against your thigh as he ruts himself into your soft skin. Desperate for friction.

You don’t realize how much he’s getting off to this until you bring yourself to look down and see his eyes closed. His lips suctioned around your right nipple, his fingers rolling the bud of the left one. He’s in a state of bliss, so lost in himself. He pops off and moves to the other, tongue flicking over your nipple in a way you wish was on your clit.

“Elliot, please.” You whine, pussy gushing yet again when you feel him grind harder at you saying his name.

“Please, what?” He moves off your nipple and lays his head on your stomach. Looking up at you while his fingers replace where his mouth once was.

“Need you.” You can’t say it; you won’t. You’re more than sure he knows where you want him. You can tell when you hear him huff a laugh.

“You’re going to have to tell me where.” You quiver when you feel his fingers rub over the drenched spot on your boxers. His boxers.

“It’s here? You need me here, right? You really drenched my boxers, didn’t you?”

“Yes, right there. Please, please.” You whine, unable to feel embarrassed. Not when he has you this worked up.

“See. Not so hard.” He muses, sliding them off and slowly pushing your legs apart.

“Fuck, look at you.” He whispers. “So pretty and so wet. Just for fucking me.” He looks up at you, “Anyone ever made you this wet?”

You shake your head. “No, just you. Only you.” Elliot’s in awe, someone like you all glistening and needy for him. It's like he’s on a power trip. “Can I record eating your pussy?”

Your mind is too sugar-coated for you to think straight, your trust and reliability around Elliot allowing it to be as such. A question like that from anyone else would have had you shriveling up in disgust. But with Elliot? You find yourself pliant. Ready to let him do anything he wanted to you.

“Your words.” He murmurs, his fingers pressing down on your clit to watch your juices spread.

You squeal at the pressure, “Yes, yes!”

“Good girl.” He feels around for his phone. You hear the start of the video and through lidded eyes, see him shining the camera flash on your soaked folds.

“Looks even prettier in the light.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the camera, but your pussy visibly clenches at his words, and he chuckles.

“Can you spread yourself for me?”

He was going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it.

Obediently, you slide your pretty fingers to your cunt, and slowly open yourself up to him with your pointer and middle finger. You hear the sticky sound your pussy makes as you reveal your clit to him, the jewels on your acrylics glinting under the flash.

“Fuck.” He breathes out your name, zooming in. “Keep it there.” He says, reaching his thumb to rub slow circles on your clit.

“Elly!” You whine, thighs trembling. He hands you his phone without a word, eyes not tearing away from your pussy. With a shaky hand, you take it and position it so he’s in frame.

“Hold still.”

“Oka–Shit, Elliot!” You cry, his tongue flicking your clit before you can finish. His eyes are closed, lapping you up like he's starved. You want to close your eyes, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of everything, Elliot. But he told you to hold still.

So you look down in the camera to make sure he’s still within frame and almost cum right there. He’s looking up into the camera, right at you. It has your stomach clenching and pussy throbbing under his tongue.

“Feels so good, Elly, don’t stop.” You cry out. He keeps a hand firmly on your thigh to keep them open and brings the other to rub circles on your clit. He moves down and shoves his tongue inside. Tongue fucking you and eliciting the only sound he wants to hear from you.

You let out a moan so pretty it has Elliot’s dick harder than ever, and he falters in his movements for a second. Pulling back to leave quick, and messy kisses to your pretty fingers for holding yourself open for him.

“M’ gonna cum!” You squeal, dropping the phone to grip his sheets. You could feel it; you were about to snap. And you’re so desperate for it. Desperate to cum for him.

He pulls back for a quick second, “Come on, baby, you can do it. All over my face, come on.” Then he quickly flicks the tip of his tongue back on your clit.

You reach both hands down to grip his hair, “Yes, like that; stay there, stay there!” You cry, toes curling when Elliot does as you say.

That’s all you need. The white-hot coil snaps, and you scream Elliot’s name, cumming harder than you believed possible. Head thrown back as one of your hands squeeze the pillow under your head, the other still holding a tight grip on Elliot’s hair. Knuckles white.

Your legs tremble, and your chest stutters. Elliot watches it all in a daze. He didn’t know someone could look so fucking beautiful while cumming. You look dewy, a thin sheet of sweat coating your body. The woman right out of his wet dreams.

He did that to you, it was all him, and it has him moaning into your sensitive cunt. Causing your body to quiver.

“Fuck Elliot.” You breathe, pawing his greedy mouth off you and back to your lips. You taste yourself on him and sigh.

“So good. So so good.” He mumbles, moving to bite at your collerbones. You wrap a arm around his shoulders, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Thank you, Elly, thank you, thank you.” You whimper, feeling so raw. So bared with him. You’re holding his face in your hand, overwhelmed with how he’s staring at you. Like you hung the stars and the planets. Like you’re wholeheartedly the only reason for his existence, and you almost can’t take it.

“Wanna make you feel good.” You whisper, reaching down between your bodies and wrapping your hand around his cock. He breathes through his nose and drops his head into your neck.

“Yes, please.” His voice is thick and coarse. You don’t respond, lining yourself up with him and squeezing his arm, letting him know to slip in.

“Fuck fuck.” Elliot grits out, as he slowly pushes, his hands on either side of your head. You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs around his waist.

Once he bottoms out, you clamp down on him. He stays still, trying to pull himself together not to cum yet.

He feels helpless, losing himself in the heat of your pussy like this. Never has he been reduced to a mess like this before.

“Gonna need you to relax, baby, or I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you properly.” He rasps. You pepper kisses over his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair. Willing yourself to calm down. You feel so full, the pleasure tingling up your spine and throughout your body.

“Elly, please move.” You whimper, desperate to feel him. He keeps himself buried in your neck, his grip on the blankets tightening.

You’re just about to beg again when Elliot decides to snap his hips. You choke on your words and lock your ankles tighter over each other. His pace is quick but deep, the tip of his dick abusing that spongy spot you can never reach.

Your walls flutter around him, so warm and soft, and he needs more.

He’s pussy drunk, panting into your skin at how you’re squeezing him in so perfectly, greedy to milk him for all he has.

“S’pussy was made for me, just for me.” He mutters.

You can’t find your voice. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth open as Elliot fucks you into the mattress with all he has. Your nails dig into his back, and he hisses at the sting.

You find yourself gasping for air when he pulls up from your neck, his face flushed and his baby hair curling at his forehead.

“Kiss me, plea—.” You whimper, and he’s already moving to your lips before you finish. It’s sloppy, more a meeting of spit and tongue than a kiss, but you’re high off it.

You’re going to cum again, and Elliot can tell, by the way your pussy is tightening around him.

He can feel your cunt drooling, his precum mixing with your arousal, causing a creamy ring around the base of his dick, and the mere sight of it has him higher than he thought possible.

“M’ gonna cum. You gonna come w’me?” He mumbles against your lips, his eyes far away.

You nod, “S’close, Elly.” You grow impatient, moving your hips to match his sloppy pace.

“That’s right, fuck me back, baby.” His voice is hoarse. Completely lost in his lust and need for you. You feel it again, that familiar heat pooling; you’re right there.

It takes one more snap of his hips, and you’re cumming around him hard, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream as you cream all over his dick. There’s a ringing in your ears; Elliot sounds far away as he works you through your orgasm while chasing his.

“Cumming, fuck m’gonna cum.” He sounds like a broken record, but he can’t help it.

He’s so lost in the way you’re squeezing around him. So perfect and tight. You hold him as close as possible in your weakened state, making eye contact and fulfilling your thoughts from earlier by pulling down his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Cum inside, Elly. Wanna feel you cum.” And he’s cumming. A resounding whimper works its way up his throat as he paints the inside of your sopping cunt. He goes limp on top of you, kissing you up the valley of your chest, until he softly catches your lips in a slow and lazy kiss. So good, and thank you’s tumbling out his lips.

You feel hot, & sticky but can’t bring yourself to push him off. So you bask in the silence, your nails raking through his scalp as you gather your bearings. You feel yourself spinning, wondering where this leaves you two. If this is the end of your friendship. If he—

“So,” Elliot draws, looking up at you and unknowingly snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Wanna be my girlfriend?” You look down at him and can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat. Light swatting his head.

Because, of course, this is how Elliot would ask. He smiles, content with how he can feel your chest rumbling under his head, and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend, Elly.”

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ginnsbaker · 1 month

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit.

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it.

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her.

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too.

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night.

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous.

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day.

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt.

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real.

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force.

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up.

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground.

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope.

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm.

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.”

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought.

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply.

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change.

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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infernalodie · 8 months

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𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 || 𝐑𝐮𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭

"𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘖𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦"

Inspo: Kamal. - people don't change - demo

Pairing: Rue Bennett x Black!Male!reader

Summary: Maybe you had held out for hope for no reason...

Warnings: Reader and Rue dated prior to Jules ever arriving, drug abuse, and a lot of angst.

Words: 1253

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR SENSITIVE TO THE WARNINGS ABOVE!

At the heart, you wanted to believe Rue was trying to get clean. Indeed, you wouldn’t be a friend if you didn’t believe it. What made it hard was sitting in this parking lot, standing by the counter to grab your guys’ food and knowing precisely what she was doing inside your car. A powdered line along your phone case with a rolled-up bill in hand. Her shame had no limits.

And you weren’t going to try and act high and mighty because you’ve done your fair share of drugs. But you didn’t let them take ahold of your life like Rue has.

But who were you to judge? It’s not like you were someone that had control in her life. You were a mere ex-boyfriend and only recently she had befriended you again after the two of you caught up from the few months of her being in rehab.

You didn’t know how to navigate around the clear issue she had been sent to deal with. And the people in her life, like Fez, weren’t exactly helping. Him giving her drugs after knowing about her going to rehab set her back at square one. The difference was he cared about her, unlike most drug dealers. So, you could respect him for that.

Once again; what could you possibly even do?

Grabbing the bag of food, you walked to the vehicle. Rue noticed your approach and slipped out with a tired smile. “I’ve been needing this.”

You smiled. “I’m glad I can be of service.” Handing her the food, you moved to the other side of the car and took your own out.

“Yeah, man. Mom’s been on my ass about these drugs and shit. I can barely be able to go out anymore without her throwing a drug test in my direction.” She took a bite of her burger, humming in satisfaction.

A groan fell from your lips that hadn’t been intentional but simply slipped out. “Here we go again.”

Hearing that made Rue frown. Her lips twitched in a confused grin with her head tilting slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taking a bite out of your burger, you grabbed a napkin and wipe your lips. “You’re always complaining. Why does everyone keep walking out of my life? Maybe you keep pushing them away? Perhaps you’re the problem.”

Rue scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t complain, man. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that.”

“That’s all you do, Rue,” you laughed. “You don’t realize it, but when you were gone, Leslie had me driving Gia to school instead of the bus and I get to hear all about that shit.” Rue, of course, hadn’t known this considering the two of you ended things on a harsh note with her slapping you in front of the entire football team. Now, you weren’t going to take the full blame because you had yelled at her for deciding to skip out on your game to do drugs. And your anger came from your worry, but she hadn’t seen it that way and it resulted in her cutting all ties to you. “You complain and complain about your circumstances and why it won’t get easier. You say you want “change” but you don’t want to change.”

“Pretty high and mighty coming from the asshole smoking weed in front of me,” Rue pointed out, snarky. “If I had recovered at rehab, you would be the cause of me going back to drugs. You ever think about that?”

You smiled, leaning your arms on the roof of the vehicle and saying, “I wouldn’t if I knew you were off of them but I hear everything from Fez. You completely forget that I buy my shit from him.”

She looked about ready to walk away just so this didn’t ruin her high. But you continued, keeping her shortening care to listen. “Rue, you aren’t unique, all right? If I have to be the one to tell you, then I will. But you are just like every addict in this world that is struggling just like you. They had something happen in their lives that put them down the same path as you.” Sighing, you tapped your hand on the roof of your vehicle and said, “The difference is people in your life care and have been trying everything to help you, but you won’t accept it.”

“Why do you even care?” Rue asked.

Exhaling deeply, you said, “Because for a time, I loved you and I still care about you enough to tell you when you are being a jackass. And maybe I had hope that you would get better and go back to who you were before all this shit.” She stared at you for a few moments, perhaps thinking. Whether she was or not, you glanced away before popping open the door. “But then again, I don’t mean jack shit.” And you left her with that hanging statement for most of the ride.

Life had its way of working things out and you were sure that in some way, your words would come to reality for Rue. There hadn’t been malice for years and your intentions weren’t to destroy her. But you saw the only way she could heal was to crumble and repair afterwards. There could only be so much pain and torment she could take before she had to look for a way to pivot to either keep herself safe or keep the people she cared about in her life. And you hoped she found it sooner than later because you could already see the aftermath of her decisions if she kept down this road.

Pulling up outside of her house, you placed the car in park and allowed your hands to fall by your thighs. Leaning your head back into the cushioning of the headrest, exhaling softly.

Rue shifted from time to time, clearly wanting to express her thoughts. She could get out of the car and walk away with the remnants of resentment she’d held against you for years. But she didn’t. She sat there, uncomfortable in her thoughts that she couldn’t put together well enough to make a coherent and important statement.

Sighing, you said, “I know you don’t care about what others think Rue and I can’t change your mind. I am just an ex-boyfriend that you dated for a little while. I can accept that.” Turning toward her, you shook your head. “But your mom, Gia, Fez, Maddy–everyone fucking cares. The last thing anyone wants to see is your face on the early morning news dead from an overdose. I don’t want to see that shit.”

Rue chewed on her bottom lip, nodding to herself. As she went to grab the door handle, she stopped, looking back at you and muttering, “You know, I’m sorry about us-”

“Don’t.” Rue watched as you shook your head, glancing at her. “You don’t need to go digging into the past to apologize to me when you should be focused on the road ahead. It’s embarrassing.”

Again, harsh. But needed. And for the first time since the start of the argument, Rue didn’t bite back or protest. Almost agreeing. Because it was despicable how she desperately tried to indirectly apologize. Especially for something she knew she didn’t deserve the opportunity to apologize for. “It’s in the past and you found someone new and I’m happy for you.” Unlocking her door, you sighed. “Just don’t go ruining it like we did with our relationship.”

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texaschainsawmascara · 1 year

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Harley Beheading Joker x / You Make Me Sick! - Ashnikko / Salome - Jean Benner / x / Judith with the Head of Holofernes - Cristofano Allori / Gretel & Hansel (2020) / Judith at the Gates of Bethulia - Jules-Claude Ziegler / Jael and Sisera - Artemisia Gentileschi / Kill Bill Vol 1

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yellow-cr0w · 1 year

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Disaster

Fandom: Bones (2005)

Pairing: Lance Sweets x Reader

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: Severe injury and blood loss, description of an attack with a deadly weapon. I’m very new at writing so be warned that there might be other things that I didn’t think to include.

Description: I really really want to write a long term slow burn fanfic for Sweets, this is the first scene that I had fully formed in my head (even though it occurs MUCH later in the plot, so I supposed I’m spoiling the fanfic for everyone rn but you’ll probably forget this happened by the time I get around to writing it). At this point Sweets and the OC, Julia have been friends for years and moved in together after he dumped Daisy and stayed with Booth and Brennan for a while. I forget which serial killer was in this era but I’m going to be rewatching the entire show while I write so this scene will also be heavily edited later once I get to that part of the plot.

Let me know if you have any suggestions since I haven’t written anything in a LONG time and this is my first ever fanfic that I’ve actually put on the internet!

I hope you enjoy! :)

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Distracted by my thoughts, I stepped into the shower, the heat helping ease the tension from today. Sitting down to let the near-boiling water beat down onto the top of my head, I replayed earlier events.

A faint noise ripped me from my thoughts.

“Sweets? Is that you?” I stood, it should be way too early for him to be back home - unless I had been in the shower longer than I thought. He shouldn’t be home for another two hours at least, but maybe I had lost track of time. I winced, the water bill was gonna be high this month if that was the case.

Hands trembling, I reached to turn off the water.

Click

The lights were out. I held my breath, frozen in place under the heated water.

Suddenly, the shower curtain was ripped open. The beginning of a scream left me before my mouth was covered. The weak light from the little toy nightlight outlined the horror in front of me. I blindly scratched at the silhouette - managing to land a few feeble hits until a sucker punch landed on my right side. The rough hand released my mouth and I was shoved hard into the tile wall.

The last thing I remembered was the ground disappearing from underneath my feet, and the quiet click of the light turning on.

I woke up shivering.

The freezing cold water contrasted the dull, crippling, warmth on my right side. I blinked at the filtered light coming from the closed shower curtain.

How long had I been here? My vision spun as I tried to push myself up on shaking hands to turn off the water. A spot just above my ear pounded. My stomach lurched and I resigned myself to leaning back and shivering.

I opened my eyes to the sound of the front door.

Maybe whoever did this to me came back to finish me off. Maybe it was-

“Sweets,” my voice croaked out. He wasn’t going to hear me. Hell, I could barely hear myself. I tried again, sounding even weaker than the first time.

I closed my eyes again, praying to whatever, whoever, inhabited the sky that he would decide to use our apartment’s one and only bathroom soon. Maybe he would be too tired to brush his teeth before bed. Maybe he wouldn’t risk coming in with the shower running. Maybe he didn’t hear the water at all.

“Jules? You didn’t slip and fall down the drain did you?”

A small cry left my throat in my attempt to call for help.

Please, I silently begged.

“Are you okay in there?” A gentle knock along with a pause, “Julia?”

Come in.

The creak of the door and gentle footsteps pushed me to try again.

”Help… please.”

The shower curtain was hesitantly pushed open and I came face to face with a wide-eyed Sweets. He muttered expletives under his breath, rushing to turn off the freezing water and start grabbing several towels from the bathroom closet. He stumbled over himself trying to get a towel to lay flat on the bathroom floor before moving to cover my exposed body.

“-crap crap crap, how long have you been here? Do you know how much blood you’ve lost?” He leaned over the side of the tub. His eyes frantically searched my face.

“I’m not bleedi-“ I slurred out, my words fading into a cry as his hands pressed the rough fabric into my side. High pitched ringing blinded me and a furious coil rose into my throat.

“-s okay. You’re okay, stay with me.” A small tapping on my cheek prompted me to blearily open my eyes. “How long have you been here?”

“Don’t know.” A heavy lead filled my muscles, keeping me from shivering any longer. “-m so cold. I just woke up.”

“I’m gonna put you on the floor until the paramedics arrive, okay? You’re gonna be fine-“ Sweets repeated more soft encouragements as he carefully moved his arms under my bare upper back and just under my thighs. I sighed in relief as the hard curves of the tub no longer pressed into my bones. He lifted me like I was made of paper thin porcelain that would shatter at the slightest bump.

“You smell nice.” My head rag dolled against his arm, and I caught the hint of the earthy cologne he aways wore. “Why’re all the colors weird.”

My mouth felt funny.

Everything feels funny. Half of a laugh slipped out.

Sweets muttered more curses as he kneed next to me. “-k you’re in shock.” One of his hand pressed hard on my side as he desperately fumbled to release his phone from his pocket. “It’s going to be okay- I’m calling 911 they’re going to help you.” He blinked rapidly, phone shaking and jerking with each beep of the keypad. “-you’re going to be okay. You’re going to be oka- COME ON answer the phone.” The pressure on my side increased.

“Lance,” I faintly tugged on his dress pants. I heard the faint noise of the 911 operator picking up and getting cut off in their standard introduction by Sweets speaking faster than I could register. I repeated myself, losing my grip on the fabric. Beautiful, wild eyes ripped away from the blood soaked towel to look at me.

“I’m in love with you.”

A sob broke out of his mouth as he switched the phone to speaker and threw it down onto the tile. He used both hands to stop the bleeding, now blubbering our address to the operator.

His left hand broke away and moved to cup my face. I leaned into his touch, the dark edges of my vision creeping to the center.

It feels so nice.

“Don’t cry.” I mumbled, vision swirling as I tried to fight it and focus on what he was saying.

“Jules. Julia, no- stay with- NO.”

Too bright, I tried to say.

Hurts.

I’m so tired.

I’m sorry Lance.

#bones #lance sweets #lance sweets x reader #lance sweets x oc #injured #bones fanfiction #bones 2005 #original character #lance sweets fan fiction #lance sweets imagine #injured!reader #slow burn #new writer #writing feedback appreciated

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dks-smut · 3 months

Text

&yet

Pairing: f!reader x rm!Sehun x Kyungsoo Rating: Mature Word Count: ~4100 Genre: Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Friends/Strangers to FWB (lovers soon?) Warnings: Teasing, drugs/alcohol (exposition mostly)

Plot: Sehun, your best friend and roommate, invites his new friend from work over, Kyungsoo, to help him through a rough breakup. As tensions build, the dynamic between you three takes a turn.

——///——

You couldn’t sleep. You had to be up early in the morning for work yet all you could hear was your roommate’s groans and the whines of the cute girl he was fucking. The sounds grew louder as you hoped they would finish soon.

This was not the first time hearing your roommate, Sehun, have sex. It seemed like it was a new girl every other week. What did it matter? You didn’t care if he was getting his dick wet.

You had been friends since high school and started living together once you started going to the same college. Both of you have since dropped out due to meandering minds. But he went to study music and literature. Yes, you know, you told him that major was a dead end since the economy tanked the year you both graduated high school. Once he couldn’t find steady work to fund his education, he stopped attending classes.

You put school on hold after your best friend died in a car accident. It was winter, the roads were icy, you can guess the rest. But you’ve been seeing a therapist and have had more good days than bad.

But it’s nights like this that do not help your sanity: work in the morning, bills past due, still hungry; didn’t eat enough today. You turn over in your bed; earplugs do not help. You can hear the picture frames vibrating against your wall. I guess he’s really giving it to her tonight. It had been a couple of weeks since he had someone over.

It felt like you blinked and it was morning. As you rushed out the front door, you saw Sehun standing shirtless over the kitchen sink guzzling down orange juice from the carton.

“Thirsty?” You say to him, his back toward you.

He jolts and turns around. You can see your reflection in his brown eyes as he focuses on you. Then the muscles in his arms relax once he realizes who just sneaked up on him.

“I bought that! At least use a cup!” You raise your voice at him but then you start to giggle. He looks at you, confused, his eyes getting larger. He sets the carton down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He was about to speak but, in a flash, you closed the front door behind you.

What just happened? Why did I laugh? Why did I abruptly leave?

These and more questions continue to fog your mind as you walk to work. Not a place you wanted to be, but who really wants to be? The job you had at the cafe was more convenient than anything. Just two and half blocks from your apartment.

You were always the first to arrive at the shop even though you were not a manager and yet, you had a set of keys. Other people found you to be reliable, trustworthy, responsible. You did not feel like any of those things. You had just started getting better with medication, therapy, et cetera. You felt like anything but a responsible adult.

You open the shop and about 10 minutes later your coworker, Jules, shows up. You start the coffee and baking pastries. Most of your morning shift passes uneventfully. That is until Jules said something to you about being cranky and needing to get dicked down.

The thought of sex hadn’t really been in your mind until your coworker happened to insult you. Maybe it was true. You had dated only one person but that lasted about a month. You had started talking at this party on campus. You had common interests with plenty to talk about but he stopped replying to your texts after he sent, “I need to find time for me and with school and work, I won’t have time for you. Maybe in the future?” It was completely out of the blue.

You couldn’t help but think that you were the problem. After that, dating never really happened for you. In high school, all the guys were either immature or only wanted to fuck. To be honest, you weren’t the prettiest in the school but neither were they. Who gives a fuck about looks. You do not exist to be ogled.

And that’s how you’ve come to really ponder what Jules said to you. In earnest, you try not to mentally talk yourself out of this decision. Maybe your giggle fit in front of Sehun was hiding a deep need within you.

Your shift ended without incident, except for a few shitty and moronic customers, and now you walk home. You feel your phone buzz in your purse that hangs over your shoulder. You stop walking to fish around in your bag. Finally you feel your silicone hotdog phone case and bring it in front of your face. A text from Sehun. It reads, “Hey. Not closing tonight so I’ll be home. Just to let you know in case you had plans at home.”

“You don’t have a girl that needs fingering?” You typed out sarcastically.

“Ha. Ha. Is that all you think I do?” He replies, the letters that make up his words have a hint of hurt in them.

You continue walking as you send a final text to him, “No. I was hoping you’d fuck them too. It was a joke. Be home soon.”

You hope your reply would let Sehun know to quit taking everything so seriously. But maybe it was you who was irritable. And bitter. Can’t forget bitter. You feel your phone buzz again and only read it as you’re turning your key into the front door lock, knowing it was Sehun.

You push the door open while looking down at your phone. Sehun’s text read: “Maybe I can show you sometime *winky face*”

You feel blood rush to your head as you make eye contact with Sehun who is sitting on the couch watching a movie. He turns to pick up the remote to pause the movie. He turns back to look at you. You’re still standing there at the front door, which is still open. You notice your slack jaw when Sehun clears his throat to say,

“Hey! How was work? You okay?” He asks in a low voice which is usually caused when he gets high.

You close your mouth to swallow. You grab your keys from the lock in the front door and shut it. You throw your purse and keys onto a nearby table and slide your shoes off.

You finally reply to Sehun’s question, hoping he didn’t notice your expression as you walked in.

“Same shit, different day. You know.” you say as you walk into the kitchen to grab a beer.

You plop down onto the couch with a huff. You stretch your legs out and place them on the coffee table in front of you. You pass a beer to Sehun, and he laughs and says,

“Aww, thanks!” in a very cheery tone, which catches you by surprise. He reaches to grab the beer from you, an empty seat in between you two.

Okay. I get it now. He is high. That explains that explicit text he sent to me. I really hope to fuck he did not see my face turn red while holding my phone.

You sigh and he reaches down to the coffee table to resume the movie he was watching before you came home.

“Yes! I love this one! And it just started!” You blurt out.

Sehun coughs and seems like he’s about to say something. You notice he just lit and hit a joint. He passes the joint to you and you lean closer to grab it. Your index finger touches his knuckles as you make the exchange. You quickly settle back to your space on the couch, hoping he didn’t see how awkward you felt, and you slowly drag on the joint.

Sehun looks over at you as you exhale smoke and start to cough a little. You take a swig of beer and as you are about to take another hit, you glance up and he is staring at you. You quickly dart your eyes from his to the TV screen and continue with your drag. You exhale again and begin to pass it back to Sehun. He grabs it from you, this time no little touches are exchanged.

You start to rise from the couch and Sehun asks, “Where are you going? I thought you liked this movie?”

“I do! I have to shower and change. I smell like rotten milk and tuna salad,” you say, walking away while untying your apron that was around your waist.

“I’ll be right back.” You say, chucking your apron near your purse, and you walked out of sight. You could hear Sehun mumble something and then laugh at something in the movie.

Once you hit your bedroom door, you slump your shoulders. You shut your door quietly and go to sit on your bed. You lean back on the bed with your feet on the floor. You look up at the ceiling fan and close your eyes.

The weed Sehun buys is always so strong. You feel like you could pass out right now. Your head starts to spin but you open your eyes. You finally pull yourself up off the bed to head into the bathroom.

Unfortunately, sharing a bathroom with a guy is the worst. You have made the best of it since moving in together almost two years ago. You don’t keep much in the bathroom just in case someone needs it. I am just the best roommate, right?

While showering, your buzz from the weed starts really kicking in. Starting to feel paranoid, you shower as quickly as possible. You swear you hear the bathroom door creak. The lock on the bathroom door has been hit or miss ever since you and Sehun threw a party a couple of months back. The landlord has been lax about getting it fixed. At any rate, the door could have creaked when the air conditioning turned on.

Back in your shower reverie, you begin to think that it was awfully coincidental that Sehun had just started that movie as you arrived home. It’s what friends do, right?

Dry, dressed, and still buzzed, you return to your space on the couch. Sehun was too busy texting on his phone to notice your return. As he finishes his text, he takes a cursory glance at you, then places his phone face down on the coffee table. He looks back over at you as he reaches for his beer. After swallowing a sip, he says to you, “What are your plans tonight? I never got a reply from my text.”

You slump down in your seat, trying hard to disappear. You fidget a bit before replying, “No, not tonight. You know me. I never have plans.”

“I didn’t want to assume, so I thought I’d ask,” Sehun says sincerely.

“Thanks. Really. So, where’s your booty call tonight?” You ask with your voice getting quieter as you reach the end of your question.

Just then, Sehun’s phone buzzes. He reaches and turns the phone face up. He looks contemplative as he types a reply. You really do not want to be nosy, but you felt like you had a close enough relationship with him, that you just had to ask,

“You okay? Even without drugs, I haven’t seen you look this glum”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just stuff. My friend is having a rough go of it.”

“Care to elaborate? You know, I am your friend, and have been for 5 years. I’m here if you need to talk.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I really need to sort this out on my own,” he says in a kind, yet serious manner.

“Well, the offer stands,” you say with a smile as you focus back onto the movie playing.

You start fidgeting with the drawstring on your sweatpants, trying hard to not make things even more awkward between you and Sehun. He seems to still be lost in thought which then makes you start wondering who he was texting and what could be going on. He knows he can confide in you or ask for your advice, he has in the past, not sure why he’s being evasive all of a sudden.

Okay, now the munchies have kicked in and you ask Sehun if he’d like a snack from the kitchen as you rise to your feet.

Sehun says, “Oh yeah! Those spicy crispy things you got from the Mexican bodega!” His eyes light up with excitement as you turn to walk to the kitchen.

You return to the couch and toss the bag over to him. He catches the bag with one hand and gives you a surprised look.

“Whoa there! I almost spilled my beer catching that!” Sehun blurts out and you give a half-hearted apology as you open up a packet of mixed nuts.

While piling some cashews in your mouth, Sehun looks over at you and says, “Hey, do you want to grab something to eat tonight? Maybe delivery? I hadn’t planned on what to eat and these snacks are already making me hungry for dinner.”

As you finish chewing you say, “Sure, delivery sounds fine. I’m sick of being around people after my 10 hour shift.”

“Yes, understood. Even me though?” Sehun says and he takes another swig of his beer.

The corners of your mouth slowly turn to a smile and you look at Sehun while your eyebrows go up. Still grinning, you say, “It’s different! You’re not people. You know what I mean. You’re you and I don’t mind being in the same space as you. It’s nice.”

Was this the weed talking or was I getting a buzz from the beer? Or both? Or was this something else entirely? Maybe Jules was right, I need to get laid.

You quickly look down at your now empty hands after having placed the bag of nuts on the table. Again, you fiddle with your drawstring pants not really knowing what to say or where to look even though one of your favorite movies is playing. You catch a quick glimpse of Sehun sitting to your right and the other end of the couch. He smoothly sweeps his fingers through his bangs and pulls them back showing off his forehead for a split second until his hair falls back into place. You snap your head forward to watch the movie and you see Sehun turn his head toward you in your periphery. You hope giving yourself whiplash wasn’t at all obvious to Sehun as he suddenly says, “I enjoy being with you as well.” You glance over toward him. You both lock eyes and time seems to crawl. The intensity is broken when Sehun then starts to make this noise he always makes when something is awkward. It sounds like a mix between a dying bird and a grunt.

“Sorry for getting sappy and introspective and shit. I’m kinda high, if you couldn’t tell,” you say and start loudly laughing.

Sehun sits upright on the couch, now aware of his shitty posture, and starts laughing along. “Nah, no way. Couldn’t tell at all.” Sehun says this and puts the bag next to his beer on the table. Your laughter dies down and the silence becomes deafening. The movie playing doesn’t seem to register in your ears.

He breaks your daydream with a question. “Any ideas for delivery? Pizza? Chinese?”

“Oh, either. Or Both. Really, order whatever and I’ll stuff my face,” you say dryly but in a sarcastic tone. Sehun chuckles at your answer and grabs his phone from the table and starts scrolling.

You glance over and see Sehun’s phone screen being reflected in his eyes. You think, wow his eyes are

“Okay, I ordered 2 pizzas and ramen. Sound good?” Sehun says as he completes the order and sets his phone down on the table again. You both stare blankly at the TV as Sehun then lights up another joint. He never smokes this much. What is going on with him? You want to ask again but don’t want to force him to say something he doesn’t feel comfortable saying.

You bend to move your legs to lay on the couch. Your feet take up the empty seat in between you and Sehun. He glances over towards you and back to the TV. He has his elbow propped on the armrest of the couch with his head in his palm. You pipe up after noticing he’s beginning to shrink into himself, “Hey, you really okay? You feeling alright? You never order pizza unless you’re stressed.”

He sighs, “I am…please don’t get upset. I invited my friend over for dinner tonight. I don’t want him to be alone. This girl he was seeing dumped him…and—,” you cut him off, “You don’t have to explain. I’m not upset. You’re a good friend.”

He sits up and turns his chest toward you, “Really, it’s okay?”

You smile, “Honestly. I’ll just eat fast and make myself scarce.”

“You really don’t have to. I think being around people will take his mind off of her. Please stay? We can watch something funny, get high, and sink into the couch,” he begs and leans toward the table to take a swig from his beer bottle.

“Sure. I will,” you start to sit up, leaning against the pillows pressed haphazardly along the back of the couch. He looks over at your sudden weight shift.

“Who is he? What’s his name,” you ask Sehun, trying not to sound completely clueless when he arrived.

“He works in the kitchen at the restaurant. His name’s Kyungsoo. He’s hilarious, but may seem serious at first. Also, he’s been quite depressed. So try not to be super self deprecating tonight,” he says and begins to chuckle.

“I’m not that bad, am I?” You ask rhetorically, a huge smile across your face, not taking his words too seriously.

There’s a lull in the conversation, as he grabs the remote, scrolling through streaming services, looking for a movie to put on once the food and Kyungsoo arrives.

You suddenly feel the blood rush to your face and your heart beating through your chest. It’s not like you were scared of men, quite the opposite. It was just a change of routine. You like predictability, schedules, and the mundanity that comes with a quiet, simple life. That, and meeting new people, even if he is Sehun’s friend, still makes you nervous and self conscious.

You have to understand that you’ve never crossed “that line” in your friendship. You’ve been wasted together, around other people and alone. It’s been the same, no weirdness. Just flirty jokes here and there and accidental physical contact. You’ve sometimes wanted a hug, just to feel safe, during a difficult time in your life. But you’ve never wanted to jeopardize your relationship with Sehun—strictly friends. Just then the doorbell rings.

Sehun didn’t seem to hear it, and so you stood to answer the door. As you turn and pull the knob, you see a meek yet serious person standing in front of you. He stands half a foot taller than you, with big round eyes, dark brown. He’s wearing black track pants with a large olive green sweatshirt that hangs from his broad shoulders. And lastly, a beanie topping his head, covering his forehead yet showing his thick eyebrows.

You’re frozen, trying not to make it obvious that you’re gawking at the stranger standing in your doorway. You snap yourself out of it, bowing your head toward him, “Come in, please.” You clear your throat and as you’re about to close the door once Kyungsoo walks through the threshold, another person is seen walking up to your door.

You immediately greet the deliverer, smiling, “Thank you. Have a good night.” You grab the pizza boxes, balancing them on your palm, grabbing the bag that contained the ramen. You push the door closed with your foot and walk into the kitchen shouting, “Guys! Perfect timing!” You hear a deep voice in the living room ask, “Can I help you with that?” He walks behind you grabbing the pizza boxes with both his hands, unburdening you. He introduces himself and you reciprocate.

After the greeting, you yell toward the living room, trying to get Sehun up off the couch. “Just a minute! I was adding some cool stuff to our favorites! Coming!” He yells back. Then, you hear his excited feet shuffling into the kitchen. Kyungsoo’s face is elated, eyes disappearing behind his smile. You notice a smirk, but just barely. His full lips spread across his face. He looks down at the table quickly, hiding his reaction.

You all crowd around the table which was filled edge to edge with food, plates, and drinks. There’s hardly any talking as you’re all enjoying the meal, except for an occasional ‘mmmm’ or ‘this is so good,” but not much else. Sehun begins to groan, rubbing his stomach, eyebrows furrowed, “Damn, I’m stuffed. I can’t. I’m done.” You start to lose it and laugh at Sehun being dramatically full, leaning back in his chair. You nod your head in agreement, “Yes, who wants to go out for a smoke?” Kyungsoo nods and stands up immediately lowering his gaze. What a sight. His deep brown eyes are mesmerizing.

Shit, Sehun opted not to join you two, instead choosing to pour himself a stiff drink. He heads to the kitchen as Kyungsoo follows behind you to the tiny balcony. It hardly holds a small potted plant and a chair. You press yourself against the railing, giving Kyungsoo enough space. He slides the glass door closed. It was gentle and quiet, in stark contrast to Sehun’s, which was loud and rough. You are able to feel it through the wood floors in your living room. If you couldn’t tell, it’s annoying. In all honesty, you don’t think Sehun realizes it’s that loud as he slams it closed.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder. You both pull out your respective cigarette packs, lighting up, and puffing. You place your foot up on the lower railing, resting your elbows on the top railing. Kyungsoo has one hand in his pocket, the other pulling the cigarette from his lips to exhale smoke down toward his chest, some escaping his nostrils simultaneously. He flicks his cigarette ash off the side of the balcony, dragging once again. You’re seeing all of this from the corner of your eye. It’s difficult to see even that, but god his he so fucking attractive.

Heat begins to flow to your cheeks again. You immediately feel hot in the frosty night. You turn your neck in his direction in an attempt to break the ice, “Sorry, I’m kinda uncomfortable around people I’ve just met.” He nods in agreement, “I get it. I’m the same way. Plus, I’m going through a breakup, in case Sehun didn’t already run his big mouth.”

“Sorry. Yeah, I’ve heard. But that’s all. Just a breakup,” you say innocently. You stub your cigarette out and slide the door back open. Kyungsoo follows you, turning to close the door. You take your cardigan off and make yourself comfortable on the couch next to Sehun. Kyungsoo sits on your left, Sehun to your right. You all begin to swap stories and laugh together, thanks to the sticky weed.

Sehun puts a movie on and the laughter grows. Joyful noises and jokes echo throughout the living room. At one point, during a fit, you instinctively begin to slap your hand down on Sehun’s leg. Then it became Kyungsoo’s thigh. You lose your breath and begin to heavily draw air into your lungs, a snort emitting from your nose. This makes you laugh harder and the two guys begin to lose it. They’re clapping their hands, giving each other high fives, which causes you to lean back, since you’re in between them, avoiding collision with your face.

Giggles and throaty laughs continue until you fall asleep with your head resting on Sehun’s shoulder. His head is tilted and rests on the back of the couch, snoring. A loud noise from the movie must have awoken Sehun when he noticed you asleep against him. He carefully frees his arm that was trapped beneath you. He places your head on a pillow, trying hard not to wake you. Sehun then notices Kyungsoo also passed out, his head resting at the other end of the couch.

He shrugs and leaves you both there. He turns the TV off and heads of to his room, shutting off any lights on his way.

#exo smut #kyungsoo #kyungsoo smut #doh kyungsoo #kyungsoo exo #d.o exo #exo #sehun x reader #sehun smut #sehun fanfic #kyungsoo x reader #sehun #kyungsoo fanfic

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skrooy · 15 days

Text

Sonic Crack Ships

So lately I've been going through a Sonic phase though its mostly a Tails phase if im being honest with myself. I've been trying to watch all the Sonic media and read all the Sonic comics that I can while playing a few Sonic games here and there. So my messed up brain came up with this stupid idea. What if I put every version of every canon Sonic characters from all Sonic media into multiple rounds of the hunger games simulator until only ones left. So I did that and even though I literally did it yesterday I already forgot who won I just remember it was something stupid. I also did it with all the diffrent canon and AU versions of Tails I could find and the winner was actually Tails from Sonic Boom. But anyways im getting off track where im going with this is that today while I was doing nothing lying in bed my brain came up with an even more messed up idea. What if I put all the Sonic characters not including the humans into a random wheel picker on Google to form a bunch of crack ships. So I did it for every character on the wheel. I now have a list. And I have decided to post this list because I find it funny. And I dare people to draw a couple from this list together or make a short cute crack story about one of these ships. And if you do please send a link to me. Ill die laughing if anyone does this. Sorry if I misspelled some names. P.S. I tried to put pictures on here for each character but I couldn't figure out how. I already have a part 2 for this in the works with even more characters.

Rosy the Rascal x Dark Doom

Scourge the Hedgehog x Trip the Sungazer

Mephiles the Dark x Silver Sonic

Ray the flying Squirrel x Rouge the Bat

Espio the Chameleon x Whisper the Wolf

Sage x Metal Amy

Storm Beard x Tumble the Skunk

Tiara Boobowski x Duck Bill Platypus

Cat (from Sonic Freedom Fighters) x Sonar the Fennec Fox

Hangry x Johnny Lightfoot

Gaia (Light, Dark, or both) x Megan Acorn

Tangle the Lemur x Silver the Hedgehog

Thrash the Tasmanian Devil x Sails

Thorn Rose x Vector the Crocodile

Monkey Khan x Fang the Jerboa

Jack x Tikal the Echidna

Prim x Chip

Werehog Sonic x Blaze the Cat

Nicole the Holo Lynx x Catfish

Knuckles the Dread x Sonic the Hedgehog

Zector the Zone Cop x Metal Tails

Wave the Swallow x Morian Blackthorn

Infinite the Jackal x Mighty the Armadillo

Vermin the Cybernik x Super Mecha Sonic

Porker Lewis x Zails the Zone Cop

Geoffrey St. John x Nazo the Hedgehog

Metal Sonic 3.0 x Manic the Hedgehog

Rocket the Sloth x Eclipse the Darkling

Marine the raccoon x Metal Scourge

Sonia the Hedgehog x Red

Black Rose x Dingo

Metal Knuckles x Nine

Charmy Bee x Neo Metal Sonic

Zknuckles the Zone Cop x Knuckles

Vanilla the Rabbit x Ebony the Cat

Rusty Rose x Perci

Mecha Sonic x Jet the Hawk

Bark the Polar Bear x Emperor Metallix

Mangy x Amy Rose

Sally Acorn x Griff

Fleetway Sonic x Tails the Fox

Bean the Dynamite x Zonic the Zone cop

Nasty Hyenas (the whole group) x Sticks the Badger

Metal Sonic x Stripes the Tiger

Batten x Storm the Albatross

Fiona the Fox x Cream the Rabbit

Anti Tails x Shade the Echidna

Bunnie Rabat x Shadow the Hedgehog

Antoine x Zooey the Fox

Sonic.exe x Jules (yes I know this is Sonics dad in the comics)

Ifrit x MinaMongoose

Rocket Metal Sonic x Tekno the Canary

Avatar x Big the Cat

Zantoine the Zone Cop x Gnarly

Chaos x Rotor the Walrus

Bunny Bones x Anti Sally

Zouge the Zone Cop x Zespio the Zone Cop

Denizen 1998 x Tails Doll

Mecha Knuckles x Honey the Cat

Rebel x Sleet

Knucks x Pseudo Sonic

Solaris x Zally

Nack the Weasel x Athair

Ball Hog x Carrotia

Grand Battle Kuku 15th x Lupe the wolf

Roxy the waiter x Lien-Da

Number 16 Speedy x Alicia Acorn

King Max Acorn x Bearenger

Lawrence x Burning Blaze

Elias Acorn x Fiest the Panda

Ari x Roller

Sallybot x Queen Aleena

Da Bearz (both of them) x Fockewulf

Julie-Su x Dr. Finitevus

Ms. Possum x Catty Carlisle

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sunasrintarhoe · 2 years

Text

For All the Nights I Lost to You p.t. 7

pairing: elliot x reader

warnings: talks about sex, infidelity, slut shaming

a/n: this is more of a filler chapter considering how short it is, but i wanted to get something out before school starts up again. i appreciate the support and love that you guys give this story, but please be mindful when you ask about updates. i am in my last year of college so i’m extra busy right now. i don’t mind kind questions about updates, but it makes me not want to update when people are rude. anyways i hope you enjoy this chapter!

word count: 1773 :((

Part 6 | Part 7

I don’t own this gif

“-and that is why he is one of the most prolific writers in history.” Everyone clapped for your classmate as she sat back down. Not you though.

You couldn’t stop thinking of Friday night.

The feeling of Elliot’s hands, rough and calloused from playing his guitar, gliding down your body. Goosebumps left in their wake. The taste of his lips against yours. The sound of his moans as he thrusted his hard, throbbing c-

“Y/N!” You flinched and focused your vision to see your teacher looking at you concerned. “Are you okay? I've been calling on you for the past three minutes.” You smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry… I’m just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well.” You weren’t lying. You hadn’t been sleeping well at home, but she didn’t need to know that your parents had been arguing in the kitchen every night for the past few days. The constant yelling and harsh words kept you up way past midnight.

Usually the arguments were about money. How your dad was spending too much money on you, how you needed a job because the amount of money you required was getting to be too much, how the grocery bill was too high because you ate too much. Then they’d move on to house work. How your dad never made you do chores, how your room was always dirty, how you refused to clean up after yourself. Then, if you were lucky, your mom would leave, slamming the door behind her as she paced off to her car.

But if not, they’d move onto the next topic… You.

She’d scream about how you were taking up too much space, but she’d also be upset about you never being home or talking to her. “She lives here for free and she’s ungrateful!” or “She’s probably fucking that boy or that girl or that dumb fucking-“ She’d call Jules a slur.

More than once you wanted to go down there and make her apologize. Especially when your dad would trudge back upstairs into his bedroom, only to sob as soon as the door closed. It hurt you to hear him cry. To know that this was only happening because you existed.

The bell rang, signaling the end of period. You got up with a soft sigh and made your way out of class. You could feel people staring as you walked to your locker. It made you uncomfortable because you had no idea why.

When you would ask Elliot, he would just shrug and say something flirty that would convince you to let him eat you out in the girls‘ bathroom.

You knew something was up, no one had ever paid attention to you, but now it was like you’re the center of attention.

Right before you made it to your locker and spotted Rue talking to Lexi. You needed answers and if Elliot wasn’t gonna tell you, she was going to. You grabbed her arm and pulled her towards an empty classroom. “Wha- Wait! Where are we going?”

“We need to talk.”

She didn’t question you further and let herself be pulled in to the room.

“What is going on?” You asked firmly. Rue tried to play stupid. “I don’t know what your talking about…” She said sheepishly, she knew you would believe her. You groaned, “Everyone is fucking staring at me for no reason and my own boyfriend won’t tell me why and I know he knows something.”

Rue sputtered, “Wait. Boyfriend? When did that happen?” You looked at her confused.

“I thought- hmm.” You frowned. He hadn’t asked you out or said anything about your relationship. “I thought it was implied when we had sex…” You said quietly. The more you thought about it, the worse it got.

“Y/N… Sex is sex. You even said so yourself, sex doesn’t equal love…” You froze, you did say that.

But you thought Elliot viewed you the same way you viewed him. You thought it meant something to him. “I… I did say that… Fuck… I’m so stupid…” You wanted to cry, but you just face palmed.

“You know what, that’s not what I wanted to talk about… Why is everyone staring at me? I know you know something.” You put your hand down. Rue froze this time.

“I… I can’t tell you…” She said slowly. “Elliot said that it would be better if we let it blow over before we tell you…”

“What?… Are you fucking serious?” You were confused. “People are staring at me like I’m some freak show and you don’t want to tell me why.”

Rue just sighed, “No one’s staring at you like that. It’s just drama. You wouldn’t even want to know about it.”

You groaned and turned around, “If you’re not gonna tell me, don’t talk to me at all.” You told her while walking to the door, you stopped right before touching the handle. “And tell Elliot that he can suck a fucking chode. I’m not letting him use me to get his rocks off anymore.”

You walked out the door, leaving Rue alone. “Fuck.”

“What?!” Elliot was- shocked? Angry? He didn’t really know. You thought he was using you? What the fuck?

“Yeah… She said, and I quote ‘tell Eliot that he can suck a fucking chode, I’m not letting him use me anymore.’ Which is honestly fucking ridiculous because wasn’t she doing the same thing to you?” Rue scoffed.

“Rue Rue, I’ve been initiating everything, She’s not using me…” Elliot face palmed and Rue looked at him wide eyed, mouth gaping. “Are you two are together? Like together together?”

Elliot furrowed his eyebrows, ”Yes…No… I don’t know. I honestly shouldn’t be all over her like I have been…” Rue wanted to scream. “Did you like ask her out?”

Elliot shook his head, “I thought it was implied… I didn’t think it was necessary. She never said anything, but now that I’m thinking about it she never said we were together either.” Rue groaned loudly, “It wasn’t! It’s never implied!”

Elliot groaned this time. “I guess… We’re not together. It was just sex…” He paused.

“I gotta talk to her.” “No, stop. She’s not ignoring you because of that… She wants to know why everyone is staring at her…” Rue grabbed his arm.

He sighed, “I can’t tell her yet. I have to fix it first.”

“You know Maddy will never believe you… She just sees you as that junkie that broke me and Jules up… You need to tell Y/N.”

“So this has to do with Maddy.”

Both Rue and Elliot jumped and turned around slowly. “How long have you been standing there?” Rue asked nervously and you gave her a fake smile. “Long enough. I was coming to apologize because I overreacted, but I heard you talking about me.”

“Fuck…” Elliot swore under his breath. “It’s nothing. Someone told Maddy that you and Nate were all over each other and theremayormaynotbeavideoofyouandNatealmostmakingoutgoingaroundtheschool…” Elliot blurted, he wasn’t intending to tell you, but looking at your upset face made him crack.

You gawked at him. You could feel tears well up in your eyes. “Is that why everyone keeps pointing at me and whispering? Because they think I was fucking Nate Jacobs?”

You hated the thought, Nate was a dick and quite frankly was sort of lacking in the department. Maybe you deserved it though. You were acting like a slut.

“This is just… great… I’m going to class…” You moved to walk away and Elliot reached out for you and you stopped. “Let’s walk together, I’m going that way anyways.”

You gave him a small smile. “Nah, I think it’s better if we stop walking together, don’t want people to get the wrong idea…” Elliot frowned, “What are you talking about?” You shrugged.

“We don’t want people to think we’re together right? I mean it was just sex.”

You didn’t wait for a response and walked away, leaving Elliot to watch you walk away.

“She heard me, didn’t she?” Rue stepped up beside him, ”She definitely heard you…”

“Fuck me.”

You were crying.

You didn’t know why you were crying. You said so yourself that sex can be meaningless, so why did it hurt so bad to hear him say that?

No matter how hard you tried, the tears wouldn’t stop. Your head was hurting, but your chest was hurting even worse.

You walked past your class and into the restroom to lock yourself in a stall.

Did it really not mean anything to him? Did he not want to be with you like you wanted to be with him?

You picked up your phone to call your dad.

The phone rang once before he picked up. “Hey sweetie, I’m just now headed into a meeting, what’s up?” Your dad answered cheerfully, but quickly switched his tone when he heard your shaky breaths and sniffling. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I-I need you to come pick me up, dad, please…” You tried your best to keep yourself from crying. He sighed, “I can’t, I’m literally walking into a meeting, I’m so sorry, baby… Call your mom, I’m sure she’d be happy to do it.” This made you sob.

She hated you with a passion. She wouldn’t do it. “Dad, please, you know she hates me, she won’t do it.”

Your dad sighed again. “All you can do is try… If she doesn’t do it, I’ll go right after my meeting to pick you up, okay?” You shakily agreed and said your goodbyes before looking for your mom’s contact.

You felt almost scared to call her. What if she didn’t pick up? You had to try.

Pressing the call button and holding the phone to your ear felt like running a marathon.

The phone rang a couple of times before the call connected. You could hear heaving breathing on the other side. What the fuck?

You stayed quiet for a bit before hearing a loud moan and skin slapping. Holy shit, was she cheating on your dad?

You moved your phone from your ear and began screen recording the call. The noises were loud enough that you could still hear them even without the phone on speaker.

You felt like throwing up. In a way, your dad deserved it, he did the same to her… Your thoughts were cut off by another loud moan.

“Oh my god! You’re so big! Fuck, Nate!”

Your eyes widened. Nate? Nate Jacobs?

“Fuck, You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned. Yup that was definitely Nate Jacobs.

You hung up the phone and ended the recording. What the fuck were you gonna do?

#elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #jules vaughn #elliot fluff #euphoria #elliot x jules #elliot x rue #elliot x y/n #elliot x you #elliot imagine #rue bennet #rue x jules #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria imagine

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hiraethhh-h · 2 years

Text

julie with a gn!reader who’s the cause of her gay awakening (Scenario)

Anonymous asked: I am begging a pleading, BEGGING and PLEADING, for some Julie x Reader where reader is Julie's gay awakening. Maybe with some added Susie teasing Julie cause that girl gives me chaos gremlin vibes.

yesss i like to think susie’s all shy and timid when she meets new people, but once she gets comfortable? *feral gremlin activated*

this takes place pre-entity :)

a loud chime came from the sliding doors as they opened, warmth blasting against her face. julie’s shoulders relaxed upon feeling the chill of ormond melting from her bones. bits of snow trailed from their shoes, leaving wet shoe-prints on the dark tiled floor. susie wasted no time in beelining it for the candy section, julie simply stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she made her way to the chips near the front. “welcome in.”

julie’s head snapped in your direction, her eyes slightly wide from the sound of your monotone voice. she did her best to keep her face neutral, clearing her throat to compose herself. “hey.” she murmured, giving a halfhearted wave. “oh. kostenko.” your face brightened slightly upon seeing the dirty blonde. you leaned against the countertop, propping your chin in your hand near the cash register. “‘m guessing you’re out with your friends?” julie nodded, she glanced at the display of chips, settling for original lays. “yeah, we’re just…” she swallowed, “spending time together.”

a soft laugh left your lips, julie’s heart stuttering at the sound. “didn’t take you for the sentimental type kotensko.” you teased, the corner of your mouth tilting upwards in a sly smirk. julie rolled her eyes with a soft snort, doing her best to fight the blush that spread to her cheeks. “julie’s fine, you don’t have to keep calling me by my last name.” she muttered, turning to walk over to you. she put the chips on the counter, glancing at you. “‘m still waiting for suse.” you gave a small nod, “calling you by your last name is badass ‘cause it rolls off the tongue, but whatever you say jules.”

a heartbeat of silence passed between the two of you, julie racking her mind for things to say. “you, uh… working the night shift?” julie cringed at her odd tone, praying that you wouldn’t notice. and thank god you didn’t. “yup.” you replied, popping the ‘p.’ your eyes drifted to the digital clock on the wall next to the register, “you want some gum? it’s on the house.” julie blinked, looking down at you. “uh… won’t you like, get fired?” she raised a brow. you simply snorted in response, “bob wouldn’t notice if his damn car went missing since he’s stoned in the back half the time, so i doubt he’ll care about a pack of gum.” you plucked the said pack from the small rack, holding it out to julie. the dirty blonde glanced between you and the gum, your smile growing as you motioned for her to take it. julie eventually took it and slid it into her pocket, the sound of footsteps causing her to look over her shoulder.

susie shuffled forward, dumping her armful of candy, chips, and drinks onto the countertop. “sorry…” she murmured, glancing between you and julie. you pushed yourself off the counter to properly stand, beginning to grab the items and scan them. “no worries, we were just talking.” you reassured the pink-haired girl, shooting her a reassuring smile. “that’ll be $15.78.” julie fished out the appropriate bills from her other pocket, handing them over to you. she nearly flinched when your skin brushed against hers. she was quick to pull her hand back as if she had been burnt, but thankfully you were too busy bagging the items to notice. susie looked up at julie, her eyes filled with concern and curiosity. julie silently shook her head at her friend, turning away to grab the straps of the plastic bag. “receipts in the bag, have a goodnight you two. tell frank and joester i said hi.” you waved at them, watching as they exited the store. susie gave you a small wave in response, julie croaking out a ‘thanks, you too.’

the door chimed behind them once more, julie letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. susie gently elbowed her side, beaming up at the taller woman. “you have something you wanna say?” she prodded, her braces gleaming against her teeth. julie rolled her eyes with a soft snort, pulling her hood over her head as they made their way back to the idling car.

“we’ll talk about this later.” “yes!”

#bee's requests #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd fanfic #dbd x you #dbd x reader #dbd the legion #the legion #dead by daylight legion #dbd legion #legion x reader #dbd julie #julie kostenko

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years

Text

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 3

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1991

Warnings: None

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: All Too Well Breakeven

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Juliette turned her back to the approaching ex, pretending to be checking the shift book. In reality, she watched him in the slightly tilted mirrors underneath the bar meant to allow the bartenders to keep an eye on the patrons behind them. She'd never appreciated the mirrors so much before in her life. As Bradley approached, Juliette saw the recognition dawn on him, evident shock flashing across his face. She couldn't help feeling a little relieved, if not her own surprise, when no anger etched itself into his expression.

"What can I get you, Bradshaw?" Juliette asked without turning around, surprising herself with how casual she managed to make herself sound. The weight of his gaze on her sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as the atmosphere between them became heavy and electrified with the past.

"Two Buds," he replied, leaning against the counter. Juliette grabbed the beers from the mini-fridge, popped off the tops, and placed them in front of him.

She moved over to the register, anything to put distance between them so Bradley wouldn't feel the anxiety rolling off of her in tidal waves. "Want to pay now? Or do you have a tab?"

"I'll close out."

Juliette nodded, finding his tab in the register and handing him the bill. Not wanting to stand there like an idiot waiting for him to finish signing the receipt, nor did she want to create an even tenser atmosphere by ignoring him, Juliette grabbed some dirty glasses and washed them while inquiring, "So, what should I call you? Do you prefer Bradley or Rooster?"

Bradley opened his mouth to respond, but Hangman's southern drawl cut him off. "I think he'll let you call him anything you want. Bradshaw hasn't been able to take his eyes off you all night."

"Seresin, if that were true, which I doubt it is-" Juliette began, forcing herself not to look at Bradley even though she wanted to gauge his reaction to determine if Hangman's words held any truth to them- "then that means you tore your gaze from me, and we both know that's not true since you're obsessed with me."

Hangman leaned against the bar. "I have to scope out potential competition."

Juliette rolled her eyes, bracing herself against the counter in front of Hangman. She'd be damned if she said she wasn't glad for the distraction Jake provided. "What can I get you?"

"Your number," he responded smoothly. Juliette opened her mouth to oblige for the sheer fact he'd been bold enough to ask for it in the first place despite being Admiral Kazansky's daughter. No other pilot had the gall to do such a thing. Still, Juliette hesitated. She shouldn't be flirting with Hangman in front of Bradley. They evidently had some sort of rivalry going on with each other, and the last thing she wanted to do was exacerbate the situation when they had a mission to focus on. Then again, why should Juliette care? Bradley gave up on her long ago and had moved on. He didn't love her anymore either and would have no reason to be upset with Jules for flirting with Hangman or even dating him if it came to that.

From her peripheral, she observed Phoenix sidle up next to Bradley, resting a hand on his shoulder and taking one of the beers. A twinge of jealousy shot through Jules, and she made up her mind. Maybe she hadn't wholly moved on from her ex, but that in no way meant she couldn't have some fun with a hot aviator.

"Better have your phone ready because I'm only going to say it once," Juliette warned, giving Hangman a few seconds to pull out his device before she rattled off her number. "All right, you want a drink before you close out?"

"Only if you let me buy you one," Hangman replied.

"I can't. I'm-"

"Free to go," Penny said with impeccable timing, coming to stand next to Jules. "I'll close up tonight."

Juliette shot her a look that said, "Really?" This had to be payback for earlier with Maverick, and judging by the gleam in her boss's eye, Juliette was confident she was right. Although, knowing she couldn't argue with Penny, Juliette acquiesced and took off her apron. She placed it on a shelf and then poured herself a glass of the strongest whiskey they had, hoping the potent alcohol would soothe her nerves and numb her feelings.

Hangman pulled out a stool for Juliette when she joined him on the other side of the bar. He remained standing, shifting closer to her and turning his back to Bradley and his friend, effectively blocking Juliette's view of her ex.

"So, tell me, what-" Hangman started to say, but he was interrupted by the female pilot.

"Watch out for Bagman, here. He's nothing but trouble," she warned, eyeing him with a mixture of displeasure and amusement. The girl extended her hand. "Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix."

Juliette shook her hand and introduced herself. "Nice to meet you. I hope to see you give these boys a run for their money."

"If anyone could, it's Phoenix," Bradley said, coming to stand beside her and bumping his elbow into his companion. Juliette smiled, proud of the female aviator for holding her own but unable to help the second twinge of jealousy at her relationship with Bradley.

"Good. I can't wait to hear the SITREPs, Phoenix. You're the only one I trust here to give me accurate ones," Juliette remarked, refusing to give in to her jealousy. Phoenix had done nothing wrong other than having great taste in men. Besides, the women needed to stick together in this male-dominated world they found themselves in.

Hangman clutched his chest. "You don't trust me? You wound me!"

"I'd sooner trust my ex than you."

"Which ex?" Bradley inquired. His response made Juliette finally lock eyes with him. His gaze remained neutral, but the insinuation in his question was still there: Did she trust Hangman more than him?

"The cheating one," she answered coolly.

Bradley nodded while Phoenix grinned, smothering her laughter by taking a sip of her beer. Regaining her composure, she inquired, "So, how do you and Rooster know each other?"

"Old acquaintances," Juliette responded before her ex could utter a single syllable. "What about you two?"

"We were stationed on the same ship for a time."

"It's nice you were able to stay in contact."

"Oh, don't be fooled," Phoenix said, elbowing Bradley in the stomach with no small amount of force. It caused him to grunt and clutch his abdomen. "He was shit at keeping in touch."

"Sounds about right," Juliette joked, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could consider the repercussions of her statement. She refused to look at Bradley, not wanting to see the look of disapproval he had to be sending her way. Of course he wouldn't have stayed in touch with her. He'd broken up with her for keeping a secret from him. A big one. A life-changing one. Who the hell was she to think he'd stay in touch with her after that?

"You going to be here tomorrow night?"

"I'll be working, but yes. Why?"

"You should hang out with us. I'll introduce you to the real men of the group next to Bradley here." Phoenix shot an antagonizing smile at Hangman, who merely chuckled in response.

"Jules, you're not working tomorrow," Penny said, sliding into the conversation once more.

Juliette frowned. "I'm not? But I just checked it a few minutes ago."

"You were looking at next week's schedule."

"Great!" Phoenix exclaimed, taking a sip of her beer. "You can join us."

"You sure the other pilots won't mind an outsider joining in?" And by other pilots, Juliette meant Bradley, but she felt he wouldn't be getting a choice in the matter regardless of the answer Phoenix or Hangman provided.

"'Course not," Hangman said confidently. "And if they do, I'll put them in their place."

Jules mulled it over. What exactly did she have to lose? "Then count me in."

"It's a date." He kissed her on the cheek, placed forty dollars on the counter, and swaggered out of the bar.

"I should probably head out too. I'm sure my dogs are missing me," Juliette decided, more so from not wanting to third wheel Phoenix and Bradley than anything else. She genuinely liked the female aviator and looked forward to getting to know her better, but not with Bradley hovering behind Phoenix. "It was nice meeting you, Natasha. Bradshaw, good to see you're doing well."

"You need a ride home?" he asked. The question took Juliette by surprise, amazed he offered to willingly be around her, even though she knew that he was only acting as the gentleman his mom raised him to be. He might've hated Juliette now, but he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"I'm good. I drove here, and a double of whiskey isn't going to make me unsafe to drive a couple of miles down the road. Thank you, though." Juliette finished the rest of her drink and hopped off the bar stool. Shouldering her purse, she bade the two aviators good night and strolled out of the bar with her head held high. Juliette wouldn't let Bradley see anything but a confident woman before him because she had no doubt he could still read her like a book. He probably already knew his presence had had some significant effect on her, but Jules would only allow him to think it happened initially, not that it continued or that it would continue until he left North Island.

Reaching her quaint, beachside house, Juliette tossed her keys and purse on the counter and plopped down on the floor to hug her two German Shepherds: Raptor and Lightning. They showered her with kisses and wagging tails that whacked her face.

"I know, I know, I'm happy to see you too," Juliette whispered once they had calmed down. "You are the only men I need in my life besides my dad and brothers, you know that?"

Raptor and Lightning responded with more kisses to the face. Juliette, laughing, stood up, handed them some new bones, then made her way to her bathroom. There, she took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the smell of the bar and the memories of the past assaulting her. Echoes of the hurtful words and harsh truths they'd hurled carelessly at each other in the heat of the moment rang deafeningly in her ears, followed by the image of Bradley storming out of her bedroom and out of her life, never to speak to her again.

Juliette stepped out of the shower and solemnly got ready to go to sleep. She crawled into her comfy, inviting bed. Raptor and Lightning took their usual positions on either side of her, sleeping on pillows of their own like humans. Juliette reached over to charge her phone and discovered three text messages waiting for her. The first was from Maverick, asking her to join him on base tomorrow. She didn't know why, but she also wasn't going to say no. If Juliette was lucky, she could convince him to take her up in the plane with him for one of the hops. If Admiral Simpson put up a fight, she could have her dad make a call.

The second, although from an unsaved number, was undoubtedly from Hangman, saying: Hey sweetheart ;)

She ignored it.

The third text came from another unsaved number, but that didn't matter. Despite having deleted it years ago to avoid the temptation to text or call it, Juliette would recognize the number anywhere. The message was short and to the point, but it read something she never thought Bradley Bradshaw would ever say to her again: It was good to see you, Jules.

#top gun #maverick #rooster #hangman #phoenix #bradley bradshaw #iceman #bob #jake seresin #coyote #payback #fanboy #fanfiction #fanfics #romance #india #lima #yankee

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capricornwriter5 · 9 months

Text

Always on time - Chapter 16c

Pairing: Jooheon x female OC

Genre: childhood friends to enemies, enemies to friends, friends to lovers, smut (later chapters), fluff, angst, slow burn, idol AU!

Warning: mentions of mental health issues, mentions of workaholic disorder, curse words

Words: 3.1k

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Chapter 16c

"Miss Seo, we weren’t expecting you today, especially with company," said the club owner.

Julie and Jooheon had arrived at the club almost four hours ago. They had stopped for coffee on the way, so they arrived after 4 in the afternoon and asked the manager to let the Doh brothers know they wanted to see them. The owners took all the time they wanted until the staff finally moved them to a private room where the eldest of the brothers was.

"My niece is a fan of yours, Mr. Lee, would you mind giving me your autograph before you leave?"

"Sure, as soon as we resolve the misunderstanding, it will be a pleasure," Jooheon replied.

"I don’t think there’s any misunderstanding," Mr. Doh replied. "We gave our rental terms to Miss Seo and her team, that’s all".

"That is why we are here, Mr. Doh" Julie began, "to understand a little the arguments that support your new terms".

"Very simple: if I close my club, I lose money; if I lose money, I can’t pay the bills at the end of the month" began the owner. "I’m a man who always puts his business before anything, so you’ll understand that I need fair compensation if I’m going to take a risk".

"The initial amount was more than fair compensation," Julie continued. "We did our homework, Mr. Doh, and we know how the numbers move in your area of business".

"We also did our homework, Miss Seo," the club owner countered with a tone of voice that pleased neither Julie nor Jooheon. "I don’t have much interest in negotiating the terms I sent you, and before you think about finding another location, let me be a good colleague and let you know that you will not find another place to rent space at a lower price. Rumors fly, miss, and rumors of high society too".

"Excuse me?"

"I imagine your companion is trustworthy," said Mr. Doh, seeing Jooheon.

Julie was losing patience. Areum had spent all morning researching the place and when Julie called her to ask if she had found anything, her friend said no. Outside of some drunken fights, the place was quite popular among young people. They had recently remodeled one of the halls and had tried to promote the new section as an exclusive room, perfect for high-level executive meetings. However, although they were trying to change their image, people still saw it as a youngsters bar.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of him" she declared.

"Well, in that case, and since it’s just the three of us, I’ll tell you what might make me rethink the terms I proposed to you," Doh began. "I guess the problem is the production budget, right? Although you always have a couple of thousand won in reserve for emergencies... Anyway, what I’m asking for is very simple and I imagine your fiancé won’t have a hard time doing you a favor, Miss Seo".

Engaged? Jooheon thought. Jules... has a fiancé? No, no, no, it can’t be that piece of a biped, can it? What the hell?

What the fuck is he talking about? Julie thought at the same time. This guy is an idiot.

"I’m sorry to tell you that I do not understand what you want from me, Mr. Doh" replied Julianne. "Although I think there has been a confusion..."

"No confusion and don’t worry, Miss Seo," the club owner cut her off. "I fully understand that in high society these things are handled with greater discretion, so my lips are sealed. I told you, we also did our homework. But don’t worry, the favor is very simple. We know that Mr. Lee Kang Dae’s company, your fiancé, has a monthly meeting with the biggest investors; that meeting is held at an exclusive club near here. All we ask is that you kindly convince Mr. Lee to do his next meeting at our club. With that, we can return to the initial terms of the contract".

Everyone was silent for a few seconds.

"I cannot help you with your request, Mr. Doh," Julie replied, breaking the silence.

"Really?" said Mr. Doh surprised, though his tone was utterly sarcastic. "I understand that the first reaction is to refuse, but I am sure that Mr. Lee will be glad to know I found a simpler and cheaper solution after our talk".

"Excuse me?" Julianne asked. "What talk?"

"Ahhh, I guess you haven’t had time to chat," continued Mr. Doh. "You see, I sent you the new proposal yesterday morning, and what a surprise it was to receive a call hours later from a person claiming to be a general manager of your company asking to sign the original contract. He told me that if I did, I would receive two checks, one from Highlight Ent, and one from the Deputy Director with the difference. You will understand that everything seemed very strange to me, so I put my people to work and you can imagine how surprised I was to learn that behind it all was Sound Wave Entertainment, a small company recently acquired by your fiancé. Anyway, since I don’t like to do things halfway, I took the liberty of returning the call, and a very nice girl communicated me with Mr. Lee. He agreed to the terms, but I thought I could show that my intention is to build a more lasting business relationship and..."

"Like I said," Julianne cut him standing up, "I can’t help you. I’m sorry to tell you that your people do not have the correct information and I very much doubt that Kang-Dae-ssi was the person you spoke to. You see, he and I are neither engaged nor have any kind of close relationship; my private life is mine and I don’t have to explain it to anyone, but since your people are incompetent, I guess I’ll have to clarify the matter: Mr. Lee and I were in a formal relationship for five years, but that relationship ended recently. We haven’t had any type of contact since, and besides, Mr. Lee isn’t in the country, so no girl with a local number would have been able to connect you to his private line. Thank you for your time, but since we can’t reach an agreement, we’d better finish the meeting here. Excuse me".

Julie quickly left the room and Jooheon was right behind her. Mr. Doh tried to stop them from leaving, but Julianne was so upset that she was barely able to evade the people dancing around her.

Jooheon’s mind was blank. He knew he must not be happy, but joy invaded him when he heard that Jules had broken up with Kang-Dae, and was afraid that a smile would come off at the worst time. Calm down, Jooheon-ah, thought the rapper. Calm down, now the important thing is to see that Jules is okay.

They both got to the car and Julie’s phone started vibrating just as she opened the passenger door. It was Kang-Dae.

Julie didn’t want to answer. She was so angry that she felt like she was going to cry at any moment. However, she needed to vent her anger and this call confirmed that what she had heard was true. There are no coincidences in life.

"You know, oppa, a few years ago you were smarter," Julianne replied in an acid-filled voice. "You would have never made things so obvious".

Jooheon stood still with his hand on the driver’s door. He stared at Julie, but she had turned her back and Jooheon could see how tense she was. He was also tense, didn’t know what to do or what to say, and couldn’t believe that idiot called her either.

"And why should I listen to you?" Julie kept screaming. Jooheon couldn’t hear what Kang-Dae was saying on the phone, so he could only guess the parts of the conversation. "No, I don’t care at all. I don’t care if you thought you had a good reason to, in the first place, have someone follow me... Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I don’t know how you work? You and all the monkeys in suits around you are always the same... I can say whatever I want! And I have every right to be angry!... Are you aware of how ridiculous you sound? What you did is almost industrial espionage... don’t you dare tell me I exaggerate... there’s no other way you knew what I was doing. Areum would never have talked to you, and just so you know, I know all the times you called her and... I don’t care about that! To be very clear, Lee Kang-Dae, you have no right to spy on my public or private life, my job is mine and in the years we were together I never asked you to pull your strings, what made you think I would appreciate you meddling in my affairs now? I don’t want to hear excuses or reasons, don’t intervene, don’t help me, don’t call me, nothing. If it’s a success or if it’s a failure I want it to be mine, not someone else’s, and keep your worries to yourself. We’re not together anymore, so my personal image shouldn’t affect yours. At the end of the day, that was what mattered most to you, right? So leave me alone. We’re done and I have nothing more to say to you".

Julie hung up the phone and Jooheon stayed where he was waiting for her to calm down. He could hear Julie’s deep breaths and knew the girl was holding back tears, as her voice broke a little before hanging up.

Before the rapper could do or say anything, Julie turned around and entered the car. Jooheon also entered and saw Julianne put on her belt, rest her head on the back of the seat and close her eyes.

She didn’t say anything and Jooheon didn’t ask. He just started the engine and started driving.

After driving quietly for about 20 minutes, Julie opened her eyes and turned on the radio. She set up a random station and they both kept going with the background music.

"I’m sorry you had to hear that," Julie said after a while.

"You shouldn’t apologize for anything in this situation, Jules," Jooheon said. "If anyone has the right to explode, it’s you."

"Still not my best moment," she continued.

"On the contrary," Jooheon said. "I mean, the situation sucks, but what did you say on the phone? UUFFFF, that was great!"

Julie just laughed dryly, and Jooheon continued:

"I’m serious. I mean, that was a knock-out, Jules, he never saw it coming and he had no way to defend himself. Besides, you have to teach me to talk that fast, in all my years in this industry, I have NEVER heard anyone spit out syllables so fast and so accurately, AND WITHOUT BREATHING!"

Julie laughed again, but this time it was a genuine laugh. She felt empty, had no energy to do anything and just wanted to be alone, but they still had an hour to go.

At that moment, she received a message from Areum telling her that they already knew how to rent the park they had seen. When reading the message, she realized the time, it was almost 9 pm, the night was beautiful and it was Saturday: it was the perfect day to go on a date.

Julie was convinced something was going on between Areum and Jooheon. While it is true that the rumors she had heard in the bathroom were a little exaggerated, everything seemed to click too well and she was convinced that she had found all the clues and subtle signs that both had tried to hide. While the idea did not make her entirely happy, neither would she lose her friend to a guy.

"I’m sorry you had to spend your Saturday night like this," Julie told Jooheon.

"Nah, Jules, I told you, you don’t have to apologize for anything," he replied. "Besides, I think it was a productive day, despite everything".

"Yes, well... although I’m sure one night with Areum-ah would have been more fun," Julianne continued. In her head, she was being subtle, although clearly that was not her strong suit.

"Auch, Jules, it hurts," Jooheon said, not understanding Julie’s message. "I know she’s your best friend, but I’m not bad, you know?"

"Yes, yes, yes..."

"Also!" the rapper continued. "I was your friend long before Areum-ah. Did you forget when I defended you in kindergarten from the kids who laughed at you for the way you drank your juice?"

"Defend me?" said Julie. "If I remember correctly, I ended up defending YOU because someone thought he could win against 4 older children"

"That’s not important here. My point is that we were friends long before Areum-ah moved to the neighborhood..."

"Okay, well, I give up... we’re not in kindergarten, you know?"

"You were the one who said that hanging out with Areum-ah would be more fun than hanging out with me," Jooheon grumbled at the wheel.

"I meant you," Julie said softly. She was taking a risk, and saying the words didn’t make her very happy either, but she wasn’t going to stop there. "I bet you would have had a better time with Areum-ah."

The comment took Jooheon completely by surprise. He looked back at Julie and the girl’s look confused him even more. She was waiting for him to say something, but the rapper did not know what, so he just remained silent for a few minutes.

"Jules, if you open the hand compartment in front of you, you will find a wallet," Jooheon said. "Can you open it?"

Julie did what the rapper asked. When she opened the wallet, she saw that it was full of old, yellow, and wrinkled papers.

"Yah, Jooheon-ah, you should improve your cleaning habits," mocked Julie. "You have pure garbage here"

"None of that is garbage" defended Jooheon. "Don’t wrinkle or throw anything away".

"It is impossible to wrinkle these papers more than they already are".

"It’s not my fault" he continued. "Years ago Kihyun-hyung had an obsessive lapse and started throwing out a lot of things we had in the dorm. You can’t imagine what I had to do to get those papers back, and I’ve been hiding them here ever since".

"Well, what do you want them for?"

"There is a triangle-shaped folded paper. It is grey and the paper is thick".

"This?"

"That" said Jooheon excited. "Unfold it".

Julie did what he asked without knowing why and when she opened the paper she found a very familiar drawing. She had sent it to Jooheon by fan mail after the first Monsta X concert. She remembered watching videos of the guys' presentations on the internet and, although at the time her grudge against the rapper had not gone down, as a friend she felt incredibly proud, so she decided to draw a portrait of Jooheon and send it to him.

Julie had completely forgotten about that drawing. It was probably one of the last ones she did before her father died, and she felt incredibly embarrassed after sending him.

"I did get it, Jules" Jooheon said after a few minutes. "You sent it to me after our first concert... as you promised you would".

At that time, Julie remembered the promise she had made to the Jooheon while they were still in school:

"Come on, Juleeees" Jooheon begged. "Make me a portrait, will you? This is my best profile".

"Jooheon-ah, I don’t have time" she replied. "I have homework to do and final exams are coming up and..."

"Come ooooooon, tell me you willllllll"

"No".

"But you’ve drawn all your friends and your family," Jooheon complained. "It’s my turn, I’m the only one without a portrait".

"Jooheon-ah, I can do it later and..."

"We may not be able to see each other later," Jooheon insisted. "The reality show is about to begin and if I am among the selected, I will debut, I will become famous and we will not be able to see each other for a while... Who knows for how long?! And you won’t be able to see my face up close to see how handsome I am".

"Look, how about this?" Julie proposed. "You let me study quietly and after exams..."

"After the exams, the reality show will be over and..."

"AFTER THE EXAMS... if you remain a common mortal, you will have your portrait," promised Julie. "And if you’re an idol by then, I’ll go to a performance of your group and draw you on stage... deal?"

"Deal".

Julie had also forgotten that promise, but maybe that explained why she needed to make that drawing at the time.

"Actually, after our debut, I was waiting for your drawing" Jooheon began. "I mean, we didn’t have much freedom to communicate with other people, but I always thought that one day I would open my eyes and there it would be".

Jooheon waited a few minutes for Julie to say something, but as the girl was silent, he continued.

"You can imagine my surprise a year later when Minhyuk-hyung opened an anonymous letter that had that drawing inside," Jooheon continued. "They bothered me for days for being a narcissist... especially because I didn’t even let them touch the paper".

"How? I didn’t..." Julie began quietly.

"I just have to see it to know it’s yours," he replied. "Don’t even try to deny it, Jules. We may have changed a lot over the years, but you’re still you, and I’m still me... The important things haven’t changed between us, as much as you want to deny it".

A couple of tears came down Julie’s cheeks and she cleaned them up fast.

"Why show me this?" she asked. "You could’ve just told me you had it".

"Receiving that was one of the happiest times I’ve ever had," Jooheon said without directly answering Julianne’s question. "I don’t know if you knew, but you sent it to me at a very difficult time for us, and knowing that you were watching and supporting us made me want to do better... Whenever I needed encouragement, you gave it to me, Jules. And I wouldn’t have preferred anyone else to, just you... because a lot of my best memories are with you, Jules, not with anyone else. And right now, I wouldn’t choose to be with anyone else".

Julie didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know what to feel, as she was very confused by what had happened in the last few days and by what was happening at that moment, so she preferred to re-fold the drawing and put everything where it was before.

She just laid her head back and closed her eyes.

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#monsta x #monbebe #monsta x lee jooheon #jooheon fanfic #joohoney #jooheon #monsta x fanfic #i.m monsta x #lee jooheon #monsta x jooheon

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writing-good-vibes · 2 years

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just for being famous

look who wrote mtl fanfic for the first time !! starring no one's favourite scream queen, jules explosion (oc) and her "will they? they won't." relationship with the host of the dethklok minute. nothing wild going on, but WARNING for mild and implied smut. oc x canon relationship.

"So, how's your brother?"

Jules sits up, unsticking her sweaty back from the starched cotton bedsheet.

This motel is quite nice, as far as motels go, and Jules has stayed in some real shitholes so she should know. The white bedsheets are clean and there's a minibar beneath the TV. The tap water is drinkable and it's pay by the night, not the hour, which is always boosts Jules' self esteem.

"He's fine," Jules replies. This motel might be on the nicer side, but she was yet to see a No Smoking sign. She leans over to the bedside cabinet and takes a cigarette from the open packet. "Thanks for asking."

"That's good, that's good..." He's leaning up on his elbows, watching as Jules lights her smoke and takes a long drag. "Anything... going on with him?"

"No," Jules snaps. She lies back down. The sheet she was holding to her chest drops back down to her waist. "And you won't get a word out of me anyway, you should know that by now."

He chuckles lightly, in that fake, showbiz way he always does. "Doesn't hurt to try."

He plucks the cigarette from between her fingers, brings it to hip lips. He takes one drag and hands it back.

They're both silent while Jules finishes smoking, dropping the butt into the empty glass on the bedside.

She knows he'll keep asking, every meeting they've had has been overshadowed by the lingering presence of her brother. In fact, most of her meetings with any one in the 'biz tended to be overshadowed by her brother. Nathan Fucking Explosion.

***

The first time Jules and the host of the Dethklok Minute met, Dethklok had only just released their debut album. Jules didn't know who he was then, why would she? He was a nobody.

The Dethklok Minute was just starting up, gaining traction through the myriad of Dethklok forums that were springing up on the web. The host of said show had managed to wrangle a press ticket to the album release party and was dying to finally get up close and personal with the five dudes he was riding the coattails of. Because without Dethklok, the host of the Dethklok Minute would still be just some nobody from Small Town, Nowhere.

Unlike Jules.

Jules was doing well for herself. Perfectly well, in fact. She'd been invited to this party because of her growing fame, she claimed, not because of Nathan. This was partly true. Her fame was growing; she was getting more jobs than ever before and people knew her. Certain people knew her, anyway.

Either way, she was at this party and Nathan could suck it if he thought it was all because of him.

So Jules made the most of it. Drinking, mingling, free food. Oh yeah, she could get used to this.

"Hey, you're Jules Explosion, right?"

Jules glances to her right. A tall, blonde somebody is looking at her, half curiously, half knowingly.

"I am, who's asking?"

"A fan. I saw your latest movie, it really was something!"

"It was, wasn't it?" Hack and Slash wasn't necessarily her best work, but it paid the bills. Besides, she'd have other jobs after this, on real films.

"What do you have lined up next?"

Jules glances down, sees the PRESS badge around Tall Blonde's neck. When she looks back up he flashes her a crafted grin.

"Is this an interview?" she asks.

"No, no, I'm just making conversation. Can't a guy talk to a pretty girl at a party?"

Jules rolls her eyes. She thought she had had enough of guys like this at college. But then again...

"Yeah, I suppose he can."

20 minutes and some boring small talk later, and Jules has to admit that the bathroom at Crystal Mountain isn't the worst place she's had a hook up before. Might be one of the best, if she stops to think about it. But, as it happens, she's being pretty well distracted, so the smell of bleach and the squeak of the gleaming marble-effect tiles fall to the wayside of her thoughts.

Tall Blonde is pretty good at this.

Afterwards, when the two of them have returned to the party, looking only slightly dishevelled, they talk some more.

"So, it must be crazy, right? Your brother being in one of the biggest bands in the world?"

Jules frowns. She ignores the churning in her stomach, "Must be crazy for him, his sister being one of the most popular horror actresses in the 'biz right now."

***

"I should get going," Jules says. She tries to sound nonchalant, "Have a thing to get to."

She sits up, swinging her legs out of bed. Jules sighs when she sees her panties are too far away to reach from the bed. Her back cracks when she stands up and stretches.

"That event doesn't happen to be the Dethklok Fundraiser for Widows and Orphans, does it? Because I'm going too, we could car-share?" There's an irritating lilt to his voice.

"I wouldn't be seen dead arriving with the press," Jules remarks, "But thanks anyway." She throws a half-way cheerful smile over her shoulder as she pulls her panties back on.

Her shirt goes back on next, then jeans, then shoes. She grabs her purse, checks for her wallet, car keys, house keys.

He shrugs, "See you there, then. I'll be sure to catch you for an interview."

#metalocalypse #mtl #nathan explosion #dethklok #dethklok minute host #mtl oc: jules #jules explosion #ahh my first mtl fic #sorry i got attached to a side character #jules and dkm host have a love/loathe relationship #and she doesnt envy nathan. she just grows to hate journalists #or at least the ones that sleep with her to hear about her brother. very gross #next up: jules meets tonje

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deadlypinks · 5 months

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𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒊𝒙𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 . 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕 && 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 !

BARBIE : stereotypical barbie , weird barbie , allan , sasha

TVD : elena gilbert , katherine pierce

OUTER BANKS : kiara carrera , sarah cameron , cleo

EUPHORIA : cassie howard , jules vaughn , maddy perez

TWILIGHT : bella swan , alice cullen

SCREAM : amber freeman , billy loomis , ethan landry , judy hicks , sam carpenter , stu macher , quinn bailey , sidney prescott , wes hicks

X FILES : maxine minx , pearl

YOU : joe goldberg , love quinn , guinevere beck , marienne bellamy

IT : beverly marsh , belch huggins , bill denbrough , eddie kaspbrak , henry bowers , richie tozier , victor criss

CHUCKY : lexi cross , nica pierce

CARRIE : carrie white

FEAR STREET : sam fraser , sarah fier

SPLIT : casey cooke

HARRY POTTER : bellatrix lestrange , draco malfoy , fleur delacour , ginny weasley , harry potter , hermione granger , james potter , lily evans , lily luna potter , luna lovegood , pansy parkinson , remus lupin , severus snape , sirius black 𝖲𝖨𝖣𝖤 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖨 𝖣𝖮𝖭'𝖳 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖲𝖴𝖯𝖯𝖮𝖱𝖳 𝖩𝖪 𝖱𝖮𝖶𝖫𝖨𝖭𝖦 && 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖱𝖠𝖢𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖲 𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖬𝖸 𝖮𝖶𝖭 𝖨𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭.

MEAN GIRLS : regina george , cady heron , janis ian

VICTORIOUS : cat valentine , beck oliver , jade west

DISNEY : alice kingsley , anna , ariel , belle , cinderella , elsa , eric , esmeralda , gaston , hans , jasmine , merida , moana , rapunzel , snow white , violet parr , wendy darling

SHE-RA & THE PRINCESSES OF POWER : adora , bow , catra , double trouble , glimmer , scorpia

JENNIFER'S BODY : jennifer check

PERCY JACKSON : percy jackson , annabeth chase

DC COMICS & MARVEL : barbara gordon , mary jane watson , gwen stacy , peter parker , harley quinn , pamela isley , diana prince , natasha romanoff , starfire , riddler

#deadlypinks muses!

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queenbirbs · 6 months

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mise en place | chapter one | everett flynt x mc

Book: Slow Burn

Pairing: Everett Flynt x f!MC

Rating: General (rating will change for future chapters)

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: On the heels of their successful first season, Jules packs her bags once again and tries to juggle all of her obligations -- to the show, to her family, and to her relationship with Everett. Or: season two of Taste of the World.

Fic playlist is linked here.

Lingering just out of frame, Jules Santos pulled out her phone and zoomed in for a quick photo of the dish on the counter.

There really wasn’t much need for stealth, seeing as she was the guest host and had already filmed her segment. Besides, the family was crowded around the oven, watching as host Christee Clark put the finishing touches on her vastly improved version.

Jules would never judge people for what they cooked at home. She had spent her fair share of paydays buying instant ramen because it was the only thing she could afford after bills. What’s for Dinner?’s concept wasn’t built on the expectation that people chosen in grocery store parking lots would be creating Michelin-star dishes. But the longer she stared at the McDavid family’s entry into the competition, the queasier she got. Tapping on her most recent conversation, she sent over the monstrosity. A few seconds later, her phone brightened with an incoming text.

Everett: What on earth am I looking at?

Jules: hotdog lasagna

Everett: Please tell me you don’t have to do a taste test

Jules: it’s part of the contract

Across the room, Christee set a timer for her lasagna and turned to speak to the camera. She cycled through two or three sendoffs before the director called cut and the crew repositioned their equipment. Jules ducked underneath a boom mic as it swung across the cramped kitchen.

Everett: Then I’m obligated to call you with a fake emergency to get you out of it

Jules: you’re sweet, but no. I’m a tough cookie 😊

Everett: It’s your funeral

A photo of a downtown skyline appeared in the chat, the towering buildings sparkling against the evening sky. Even better was the ghostly reflection of Everett in the window, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration – the kind she usually saw above a range. It was just poor luck they had both been booked as guests on shows, though at least hers was close to home. The same couldn’t be said for Everett’s episode of RSVP: Atlanta. It had only been nine days since she’d seen him last, but she missed him. The time alone did give her a chance to knock some important things off her to-do list, though.

With the upgraded lasagna in the oven for another thirty minutes, Jules made her way through the McDavid’s house and out their front door. The family dog trotted out after her and flopped onto the porch. The Ventura suburb didn’t offer much in views, so she took a seat on the steps and gave Everett a ring.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he answered, his voice warm in her ear.

“We’re on a break, so I thought I’d call. How goes the episode?”

“Good.” She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, petting the chocolate Labrador beside her and listening as Everett described the locations and their prized dishes. “Some of these restaurants might lead the city to becoming a top ten foodie destination soon, per Julian. Who, by the way,” he all but growled, “abandoned me today to go scout a possible location for season three.”

The idea sent a little flutter in her chest. A third season wasn’t a guarantee yet, but it didn’t seem preposterous, given how close they were to starting the second season.

“Always thinking ahead, our Julian,” she said with a grin.

An undignified snort sounded from the other end. “Yeah, sure. But anyway, tomorrow we’ve got an early morning at a cafe in Buckhead and then I’m off the airport. Think my flight lands at two.”

“Hmm. I don’t know if I’ll be done by then,” she lied. “Is Cam able to pick you up?”

“He said he’d be available, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I wouldn’t wish LAX on a Friday afternoon on my worst enemy.”

“I’d do it for you.”

“I know you would.”

One of the PAs called her name from inside the house, rousing her from their pleasant bubble. She tried to hide the pathetic-sounding groan, but Everett must have heard it, judging from his familiar huff of laughter.

“Wish me luck.”

“I recommend chasing that lasagna with some antacids.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled as she got to her feet. “Text me when you board tomorrow?”

“Will do. Love you.”

That little flutter returned at his words. “Love you, too.”

Yesterday, this seemed like a cute idea. It wasn’t often that she got to surprise Everett – the man was so vehemently against surprises that he was usually able to suss them out before she finished planning them. This time, however, she had a day-old set photo, Cam as an accomplice, and 2,100 miles on her side. So, when Everett texted her that he was boarding, she sent him a picture of the McDavid family’s Lab. Then she finished her laundry, exchanged emails with her realtor, stared at the messy document that was her cookbook draft, and made the forty-five minute drive to the airport.

If anyone inside the terminal recognized her underneath the oversized sun hat, they didn’t say. Which was fine with Jules, seeing as how she was trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She’d never been a fan of crowds, especially when she had to face them alone. Her grandmother once told her it stemmed from an incident at a hometown festival when Jules was seven. She got separated from her family for over two hours – not that she recalled any of it, the memories lost to trauma and/or time.

Not wanting to attract any overzealous fans, she had forgone any signage. Everett had an uncanny ability to pick her out of a crowd, anyway. Which is why, when she spotted him stalking towards baggage claim in his baseball hat, it only took another moment before his scowl fell away and he changed course.

“Hey, strange–” Before she could finish her greeting, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her close for a hug.

“I’ve waited ten days to do that,” he told her as he set her back down. “This is a nice surprise. You didn’t have to come get me, you know.”

“I know.” She leaned up on her toes, smiling into the kiss when the brim of his hat knocked into hers. “I wanted to.”

Everett reached for her hand and together, they navigated through the torrent of people and onto the escalator. After snagging his luggage, they made their way out to the parking lot. Her 1963 Rambler was a bright pop of powder blue, standing out easily from all the gray Civics and white Camrys. It had a faulty odometer and the gears were a little stiff, but her grandfather had taken good care of it for fifty years, before gifting it to her on her eighteenth birthday.

“Next time we go to that drive-in, we’re taking this car,” Everett told her as they settled in, taking off his hat and running his fingers through the dark strands.

“But yours is the one with tinted windows.”

Gripping the gear stick, she held his gaze for a long beat, long enough that she didn’t miss the sly tilt of his mouth. Just as she prepared to back out of their space, though, he moved. Leaning across the bench seat, he tipped her hat up and trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

“With our disguises are out of the way, I’d—”

Jules slid across the last few inches of leather and pressed her lips to his, silencing his suave line. It was a tender kiss, soft and slow – as were all the ones that followed until they parted for air.

“Now that’s what I was waiting ten days for.”

“As always,” he said with a grin, “I’m happy to oblige.”

Season two of Taste of the World started off in the spirited, southern city of Nashville, Tennessee. After doing his research, Julian determined it would be optimal to start their shoot there the first week of March. It would be a little chilly, but it would get them in and out of the city before the bach party season kicked off. It was too bad, then, that filming started the first week of August – mostly due to studio execs hemming and hawing over the budget.

Seated next to Jules on the plane, Vivian scrolled through a shoe store’s listings, joking about buying the gaudiest cowboy boots she could find.

“You need look no further,” Zara murmured from in front of them, making a show of glancing down the plane. Jules bit back a laugh when she followed her gaze to a man wearing a pair of turquoise-and-fuschia boots with a peacock plumage stitched across the toe box.

The second season’s first location was Birdie’s, a deli on the west side. Tucked in amongst the traditional cottages and the grayscale townhomes, its tattered awning and dull brick weren’t doing it any favors. Neither was the sign, missing from atop the pole in the tiny parking lot. Stepping into the restaurant, the dark wood paneling and chipped Formica tables only added to the dated image. Above the counter, the menu spanned across the back wall: one panel for meat-and-threes, one for daily specials, another for drinks and milkshakes and desserts, and a last panel for sides. The amount of choices was overwhelming. Looking around, it appeared that the only clientele were the folks who had been around when it first opened. The delicious scent of the daily special – fried catfish and hush puppies – gave some indication on why they would keep returning.

Delia Harris met them behind the counter, clad in a grease-stained apron and cornmeal-coated sneakers. She became the sudden owner of Birdie’s five years ago and had been struggling to keep it open for the last three. After the small lunch crowd trickled out, she talked with them in the kitchen as her wife Collins cleaned and prepped for dinner. Delia gave them the historical spiel on the business: opened by her grandparents in 1971, Birdie’s was named in honor of her great-grandmother, Beatrice. In 2001, the deli was passed down to Delia’s mother and uncle, who continued the success. When they were tragically killed in a car accident in late 2016, Delia stepped in and took over.

“The original plan was that when my mama and Uncle Jimmy were tired of running things, Birdie’s would go to his son, Anthony,” Delia continued, dabbing a napkin under her eyes as she talked. “But when the dust settled, he admitted that he didn’t want to. He didn’t spend enough time here to really know how to run the place, and he was worried he would run it into the ground.” Sniffling, she balled the napkin up and shot them a sardonic smile. “Ironic, I know.”

Used to dealing with Zara’s curt attitude, Jules waited with bated breath for her to jump in with commands to move the scene along. But Zara kept quiet, muttering only to the crew as she kept her attentive gaze on the owners. Maybe the network execs had actually talked to her like they promised. It was the first episode, though, and only time would tell.

“What do you think is the main reason your place isn’t doing well?” Julian asked, to which Delia huffed a short laugh.

“Money.” Standing beside her, Collins clicked her tongue and made a rolling gesture with her hand. Delia shuffled her feet for a moment and then sighed. “It really is the biggest problem we have. I’ve had to cut corners to pay the rising costs and the few employees we do have.”

She showed them the trash bags in the back, where the soiled rags and aprons went for her to take them to the laundromat, since she could no longer afford a company to do so. Local ingredients had to be swapped for cheaper, frozen ones, resulting in a loss of quality. When a tornado tore through the city last year, it had taken her sign and some of the roof with it. The roof was an easy, albeit costly, fix – but the sign was original, built by her grandfather. A photo of it, along with her grandparents, hung proudly behind the counter. Beside it, a more recent photo of her mother and uncle posed under the sign.

“I’ve tried to keep things the same, but we’ve had to update and adapt,” Delia continued. “I’ve been adding stuff to the menu to keep up with the competition, but in all honesty, I’m not sure if it’s helped or not. Other stuff was necessary, you know, like creating an online presence. My mama and Uncle Jimmy didn’t ever bother with that kinda stuff. I was the one who set up their Jabbr for them back in the day,” she said, followed by a quick laugh. “But with that and the Pictagram account and the Foodie page came the need for online ordering and delivery. I spent two years dealing with the industry giants, but they were more trouble than they were worth, so we’ve been doing the deliveries since.”

“She means she’s been doing them,” Collins cut in. “Our delivery gal moved back down to Murfreesboro last year, because she was priced out of her apartment here.”

“We try our best to pay people a living wage, but inflation has hit the south pretty hard. A lot of locals have left the city for greener pastures, especially with all the gentrification driving people out.” Delia fiddled with a stack of napkins and sighed. “We’ve had more than our share of offers to buy the place – mostly from developers that would raze the building and plop down another luxury apartment. But I couldn’t face myself if I let that happen without a fight. So, it’s been a balancing act to pay the bills and our employees and get customers in the door. We can handle the first two, but the last one is proving to be the hardest. That’s why we contacted y’all for help.”

“And that’s what we’re here to do,” Everett promised.

Author's notes and what-have-yous:

I have been working on this fic on and off since January 2022, figured it was high time to post the first chapter at least. I know the fandom for this book is like nonexistent but I've already written like 23k for this fic and I needed to go ahead and post something of it.

Continue on to chapter two

#choices slow burn #everett flynt x mc #everett x mc #choices slow burn fic #Kaila writes things #f: mise en place #c: jules santos

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